WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

by When Dreams Come True(Lit)

  Eden felt a wave of triumph. However, at the end of the small concert, Lady Penhollow stood without a word of praise. “Come, Miss Eden, the hour grows late. We must go to our beds.”

  “But doesn’t she play well, Mother?” Lord Penhollow asked sardonically.

  Lady Penhollow’s face, so much like her son’s, never lost its expression of cool indifference. “She’s passable.” With that, she walked out of the room.

  Lord Penhollow turned to Eden. “I thought your performance superb.” He lifted her hand and lightly kissed it.

  She closed her fingers around his, not wanting to let him go.

  “Trust me,” he said quietly, and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “She will come around.”

  Lady Penhollow had apparently gone up to bed. Lord Penhollow walked Eden to her room. “Until tomorrow,” he whispered, and pushed a stray curl away from her face.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” she said.

  “And I don’t want to leave you either, but we’re going to do it that way, Eden.” His lips brushed hers for the briefest of seconds before he backed away from her.

  “Good night,” he whispered.

  “Good night.”

  She leaned against the door frame and watched him walk down the hall before turning the handle and entering her room. Betsy waited for her and Eden realized his wisdom in not honoring her request for a private moment alone.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Since she was standing close by, Eden opened it. Lady Penhollow stood there.

  “You’re not going to get him,” she said. “I won’t let that happen because you don’t deserve him.” Without waiting for an answer, she left.

  Again, Betsy had to wake her the next morning. She swept open the drapes. “It’s time to rise, Miss Eden. I’ve already brought your chocolate and a little surprise, too.”

  Eden frowned, hugging her pillow closer. “I’m not ready to get up yet.”

  Betsy leaned down over the bed and said softly, “Ah, but Lord Penhollow is waiting to give you a riding lesson.”

  That statement popped her eyes open. “Riding lesson?”

  “Yes,” Betsy continued airily. “He told me he’ll meet you in the stable yard. Plus, here is my surprise.”

  Eden rolled over to look at her. Betsy held up a brown riding habit. It was quite old and the color had faded on the shoulders. At one time, the habit’s hat had been stylish with a jaunty plume. Now the hat brim appeared as wilted as the plume.

  “It’s the best I could do on short notice,” Betsy said. “I told Mrs. Ivy, Lady Penhollow’s dresser, that you needed a habit to go riding. I made sure she knew I thought you’d make a fool of yourself in front of his lordship, and she provided me with this in no time. Oh, come now, get up. Lord Pierce is expecting you.”

  Eden didn’t want a riding lesson, but she wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to spend time with Lord Penhollow, especially without Lady Penhollow. She hopped out of the bed.

  Twenty minutes later she was dressed and tripping over the extra-long hem of the habit on her way to the stables. She’d removed the moldy plume but still felt slightly ridiculous under the lopsided brim. No amount of blocking would ever return this hat to any semblance of style.

  Lord Penhollow cooled his heels talking to Jim as he waited for her. He appeared very handsome this morning in buff breeches, boots, and a bottle-green riding jacket. Between the two men stood a bay horse with white stockings.

  “This is Velvet,” Lord Penhollow said, introducing the horse to Eden. “She’s as gentle a mare as ever walked the face of this earth. You’ll believe you are sitting in a rocking chair instead of riding a horse.”

  “I doubt that,” she said under her breath, absently petting one of the foxhounds that had charged up to greet her.

  “You will,” he promised. “Now come and let me help you mount.” He led the horse to a mounting block.

  Eden didn’t move. “I’m still not convinced this is a good idea. I mean, I’ve managed to make it this far in my life without riding, so it isn’t a necessity.”

  Jim guffawed his response while Lord Penhollow said, “If you are going to live in the country, Miss Eden, you must learn to ride.”

  If you are going to live in the country—? Now Eden had motivation to learn.

  But it wasn’t easy.

  He might describe Velvet as docile but the animal appeared wild-eyed and shifty to her. Furthermore, she was expected to ride sidesaddle.

  Lord Penhollow showed her how himself, ignoring the laughter of the grooms as he sat in Velvet’s saddle, one leg hooked over the horn. “See? Nothing simpler.”

  “Oh, yes, it should make tumbling off much easier,” she replied tartly. “Perhaps if the horse’s back was a bit flatter?”

  Lord Penhollow laughed. “You’ll go on all right once you get your balance.” He jumped to the ground. “Now it’s your turn.” He held out his hand. “Don’t worry. If you start to fall, I’ll catch you.”

  Right there was a tempting reason for her to climb onto Velvet’s back. Eden came forward. Taking his hand, she stepped up on the block of wood and then gingerly seated herself in the saddle.

  Or thought she had.

  With a nickered protest, Velvet sidled away. Eden lost her balance and started to slide out of the saddle. Lord Penhollow stepped forward and attempted to catch her in time and push her back up into the saddle.

  One hand rested on her thigh, while his other arm looped her waist, but it wasn’t enough and she slid down his body to land on her feet on the ground. Once she got over the surprise, Eden decided that, maybe, learning to ride could be great fun.

  He spoiled it by saying, “Let’s try this again and see if you can stay in the saddle.”

  Eden answered him with a sigh—but the second time, she did manage to keep her seat. In fact, she rather enjoyed the height of being up on the horse.

  “Now you’re going to ride her,” Lord Penhollow said and he gave Velvet a little pat on the rump.

  The horse started moving. Eden tensed.

  “Easy, relax,” Lord Penhollow said. “Pull back on the reins gently when you want to stop.”

  “You are sure of this?” she asked cautiously as the horse ambled forward.

  “It’s worked for me every time. And smile, so I know you are all right.”

  Eden was concentrating too hard to smile. She pulled the reins and Velvet stopped. She shot a surprised look in the direction of the watching grooms. “I did it.”

  “Aye, you sit in the saddle well, Miss Eden,” Jim answered.

  “Now make the horse go,” Lord Penhollow said.

  “Go? How?” Eden asked.

  “Nudge Velvet with your knee. She’s a well trained animal. She’ll understand.” And Velvet did.

  “I think I like this,” Eden said as she circled the stable yard a second time.

  “Good,” Lord Penhollow said. He motioned for one of the grooms to bring Cornish King forward. “Now we can have our ride.”

  “You mean this isn’t it?” Eden asked with a stab of dismay.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “You don’t want to stay in a stable yard all of your life, do you?”

  “What I want to do is stay close to that block of wood so I can get off Velvet when I feel a need to,” she answered honestly.

  Everyone laughed, only Eden wasn’t being funny.

  Lord Penhollow climbed into his saddle and led Velvet and Eden toward the main drive.

  Eden held the saddle, reins, and a hank of Velvet’s mane for good measure.

  Cornish King pranced, anxious to charge off over the countryside, but Lord Penhollow kept him firmly in check.

  He was completely at ease on a horse. He reminded Eden of a picture she’d seen of an ancient knight and his horse in full armor. If they had lived five hundred years earlier, that was the way he and Cornish King would have been, a formidable team, eager to vanquish all invaders.

  Slowly
, she began to relax as they walked down the drive. “Ride with the horse,” he suggested. “Move with her. You aren’t going to become a first-rate horsewoman in one lesson. Right now, I just want you to take pleasure from the ride.”

  Eden tried his advice and found riding more comfortable. They walked their mounts, in no hurry to go anywhere fast.

  Soon she understood what he meant about needing a horse to get around in the country. She became accustomed to the feeling of Velvet beneath her and could enjoy the sights. It had rained last night and the fresh, clean air felt good. A bluebird landed on a hedgerow and took off again, singing.

  They rode through the village of Hobbles Moor. Built around a great circular pond and communal pump, the village was a quarter the size of Plympton but far more attractive. Thatched-roof houses lined unpaved streets leading from the pond. Many of the houses had small front yards with flower and vegetable gardens growing in them. Eden wondered which house Betsy lived in.

  Even at this early hour, people were out and about. Dane was already at work in his smithy. The air rang with the sound of his hammer striking the anvil. Children ran to the side of the road, waving and calling to Lord Penhollow by name as they passed. A young, blonde girl, little more than ten years of age, stepped forward and offered a small bouquet of daisies to Eden.

  Eden reined Velvet to a halt but didn’t dare reach down for the bouquet, afraid she would topple off her precarious seat. Lord Penhollow took it from the child and passed it to Eden who made the girl smile when she said, “Daisies are my very favorite.”

  The child bobbed a curtsy. “We all know that, Miss Eden.”

  “Make him bow,” a chubby lad called to Lord Penhollow. “Make your horse do his tricks.”

  Lord Penhollow did exactly that. Cornish King bowed to the young girl who curtsied back. All the children laughed.

  “I thank heaven Velvet doesn’t know any tricks,” Eden said fervently, holding her bouquet and reins with both hands. “Or else I would be sent sprawling onto the road.”

  “Oh, but she can,” Lord Penhollow said. “All I have to do is tap her shoulder three times like this—” He reached to do so but Eden caught his hand.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said with a laugh.

  He’d leaned over in his saddle and they were now practically nose to nose.

  “And what will you do to stop me?” he asked.

  It was an invitation for a kiss if ever she’d heard one and she stared at him with incredulity, uncertain if she’d heard him correctly.

  “Oh, go ahead and kiss her!” a man’s voice shouted. Eden and Lord Penhollow both looked up in surprise to discover they were the center of a ring of villagers. Dane had been the one who shouted. He stood by his fire with his massive arms crossed.

  “Why, Dane, I shall do exactly that,” Lord Penhollow said, and gave Eden a light smack on the lips. It was the kind of kiss a man gave a sweetheart on a summer’s day, affectionate and carefree, but no less potent to Eden.

  The villagers shouted their approval, except for Dane who claimed that Lord Penhollow would have to do better than that if he wanted to win a “handsome lass like Miss Eden.”

  Lord Penhollow laughed and led Velvet through the crowd and down the road. From the corner of her eye, Eden glimpsed the Widow Haskell. The woman stood apart from the others. Her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight.

  Their gazes met and held as Eden rode by. And then the Widow Haskell smiled. Eden felt as if she’d received a blessing of some sort.

  Outside the village, she followed Lord Penhollow across a field toward an aged oak.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I want to show you the famous money tree.”

  “Oh, Betsy told me about it. She says that’s why Hobbles Moor is special, because it has its money tree. I didn’t imagine such a thing really existed.”

  “It does, and here it is.” He reined in beside Eden.

  The oak’s branches spread out almost ten feet from the solid trunk. It was the type of tree children could climb easily to play in its boughs. Adults would use it as a landmark.

  “But can you believe it’s magic?” Eden stared up into the leafy ceiling over her head.

  “Yes,” he said.

  She looked at him. “You’re not joking.”

  “I’d never joke about magic.”

  “I’ve never known magic,” she admitted soberly. “And I don’t know if I believe in money trees. Everything I’ve ever been given has in some way or another had conditions attached to it.”

  “Just because you haven’t seen something, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

  Eden searched the tree’s heavy limbs. “I don’t see money hidden among the leaves.”

  “And what about love?”

  She jerked her head to stare at him. Love?

  He reined Cornish King closer to Velvet. His leg brushed against Eden’s. He looked down into her eyes.

  For a second, Eden felt he was going to kiss her again. Her heart stepped up its beat in anticipation.

  But instead he said, “I’m going to teach you about magic.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a handful of copper pennies. He offered some to her.

  They felt heavy in her hand. “What do I do with these?”

  “You throw them, Eden. Up in the sky as high as you can.” He demonstrated, tossing his handful of coins up into the air. She heard them hit the leaves of the tree and then fall to the earth like hard raindrops.

  “It’s your turn,” he said. “Throw your pennies. We haven’t much time.”

  Eden did as he asked. Her pennies didn’t go as high or as far. Velvet moved as one hit her. Lord Penhollow reached out and steadied the horse. He kept his hands on the reins as he pulled her round.

  “Come.” He started Cornish King and Velvet in the direction of a large clump of bushes by a stream. They rode around to the back of the bushes where they could not be seen from the road.

  “What are we waiting for?” Eden asked, and a second later had her answer. She heard the sound of voices, children’s voices.

  “Peek around and watch,” he told her.

  She did and a second later saw the village children come running down the road. There must have been two dozen of them.

  “Is there money under the tree today?” one of the older children asked rhetorically and the younger children made a mad dash for the tree.

  “There’s money! There’s money!” the youngest shouted and began scooping up pennies from the ground.

  “Here now, make sure we all get a share,” a girl called, hurrying to join them. “The tree doesn’t like it when we’re greedy.”

  Eden watched the children laughingly gather the pennies. It was a magic moment. She knew what those pennies meant to a child. There’d been a time when she would have sold her soul for even a halfpenny to buy a loaf of bread.

  “Do you do this often?” she asked without taking her eyes from the scene.

  “About once a week or so. I started it when Cornish King won his first race. That was over sixteen years ago. Another favorite place to throw pennies is down by Hermit’s Cove. The fishing is good there and the children go often.” He tapped her shoulder. “Come, we must go now.”

  Reluctantly, Eden reined Velvet around to follow him. He took them home in a different direction, through the forest on the other side of the stream so the children wouldn’t see them.

  “Do you think the children know you are behind their money tree?”

  “The older ones do, but they keep it a secret for as long as they can from the little ones.”

  Eden looked down at the daisies she held in her gloved hand. “Why would they do that?”

  He looked puzzled. “Do what?”

  “Keep a secret like that. Why should they care if the little ones believe the tree is magic or not? Why wouldn’t they want all the pennies for themselves?”

  Lord Penhollow pulled Cornish King to a halt. Velvet stopped too. “B
ecause it wouldn’t be any fun if they kept all the pennies themselves. It’s the sharing that creates the magic.”

  Eden considered this new concept, this idea of everyone sharing, no, giving so that others would be happy.

  He brushed her cheek with his gloved hand. “Eden, everyone needs to believe that life holds a little magic. If we didn’t, it wouldn’t be worth living.”

  “And the children protect that belief because they care for each other.”

  “Of course,” he said, and urged Cornish King on.

  Eden rode in silence beside him for a moment, digesting these new ideas. “And is Hermit’s Cove considered magic too?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he answered. “After all, it’s where I found you.”

  His words shot straight to her heart and, for a moment, she was dazzled by the most incredible magic of all. It swept through her like a clean, bracing wind, and changed something within her.

  Now she saw Lord Penhollow with new eyes. Life was suddenly richer and more valuable—especially in his presence.

  Because Eden had discovered the unthinkable, the unbelievable.

  She had discovered love.

  Chapter 11

  That afternoon, Pierce had two visitors, Lord Danbury and Captain Harry Dutton. He’d been sitting at his desk in the study thinking of Miss Eden and their ride that morning. His thoughts were so distracting that after an hour’s work, he’d only made three new notations in the open ledger on his desk before him. He closed the ledger and greeted the men warmly, inviting them to sit down in the chairs in front of his desk. He rang for wine.

  Ten minutes later, he almost threw them out of his house.

  “We’re concerned for you,” Harry said quickly, realizing his suggestion to turn Miss Eden’s care and welfare over to the parish was the cause of Pierce’s fury. “That’s the only reason we’re here.”

  “Besides, it’s your mother who asked us to talk to you,” Lord Danbury added. “People are speculating. They say you kissed her right in the middle of Hobbles Moor. Really, Penhollow, you must think of your station in life.”