by Leenie Brown
“I will ride Pythias tomorrow.” He patted Damon’s neck. “Today is your day to show me what you can do.” He leaned forward. “Take to the sky,” he whispered as he winked at Miss Atwood who smiled.
Damon snorted and was off. Hooves pounded the ground at a furious pace even after having run as much as Damon had. Robert shifted his weight from the saddle and fully into his toes. He pumped the reins against Damon’s neck, urging him onward. This was a horse who delighted in running and who could most certainly be a champion. They rounded the end of the course, which was marked by Tom and Faith, and returned to where Miss Atwood and Miss Price waited.
“I should have agreed to giving Camden a thousand pounds,” Robert said as he drew close to Miss Atwood after allowing Damon a time to walk. “He is good for it.”
“I told you he was the best,” Miss Atwood teased.
“Well, Hugo did beat him.”
“Once.”
Robert laughed. “Yes, well, I suppose we will have to hope it was only once and that Damon can be the victor on the day when it is necessary.”
“Hope?” she asked in a teasing tone, though her eyes contained sadness. “Can you not guarantee it, Mr. Eldridge?”
“I wish I could,” he answered honestly as he swung down from Damon.
He could get used to helping Miss Atwood from Hugo. He held her waist after her feet were on the ground instead of releasing it. “I wish I could make this all go away,” he whispered.
“As do I,” she admitted softly.
One at a time, he peeled his fingers away from her, willing himself to release her rather than pull her to him.
“Do you wish to change your costume here?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I have wished to ride astride for these past seven years. I should like to take full advantage of the necessity. I will just gather my things, and Stuart can see to the extra saddle.” She started toward the trees where she had changed. “You will return to Silverthorne with me, will you not? I should enjoy a bit of company.”
“Whatever you wish,” Robert assured her.
Whatever she wished? Yes, that was exactly what he wanted to do for her. Could one lose his heart to a female he had only just met, or was it the way those breeches embraced her figure which was addling his thinking? No, it was likely not that, for he had felt the same when she was wearing a dress. However, it could still just be her beauty calling to him. Or, he thought as he turned away from watching her and toward Tom, who had joined him while Faith went with Miss Atwood and Miss Price to disassemble the dressing room in the trees, it could be her love for horses which drew him to her like a moth to a flame.
“You have a good chance of winning,” Tom said.
“Did you doubt I would?”
“No. I know your skill. How many times have I lost to you?”
“Nearly every time.”
Tom nodded. “You have a skill with horses that most do not.” He drew and released a breath. “Addie seems to share that whatever it is with you.” He shook his head. “It would be a sight to behold the quality of stables you and she could create.”
Robert turned and looked toward the trees where the ladies were. He had to admit Tom was right. Miss Atwood was special. She knew horses better than any lady he had met, and he had met several who claimed to know horses. Of course, at least one of those ladies had been attempting to seduce him. However, marriage should likely be about more than the way a lady looked in a pair of breeches and how well she sat on a horse, right?
Tom nudged Robert’s shoulder with his own. “Faith approves of her.”
Robert chuckled. “Is that your true purpose in speaking to me?”
“No, your sister did not direct me to tell you that. I thought you might wish to know.” He shrugged. “And for what it is worth, I think you would suit.”
Robert pulled in a deep breath and released it. “I think we would, too,” he admitted. “And I am almost entirely certain it is not the fit of her breeches or the cut of her jacket making me think so.”
Chapter 9
For a week after that first day on which Addie had presented her idea to save Damon, she, James, and Mr. Eldridge met to race their mounts against one another. For the same week, Mr. Eldridge rode either Damon or Pythias while Addie rode Hugo and James rode whichever of Silverthorne’s horses Mr. Eldridge was not riding. For that same week, the three of them would afterwards return to Silverthorne Hall and have tea. And, for that same week, Addie slept more in the chair in her father’s room than in her bed.
However, one week and a day after that first day on which Addie had presented her idea to save Damon, she did not venture from her house. The horses remained in the stable. The chair beside her father’s bed was taken away, and she no longer had to wonder whether she would have to give up her father or Damon first, for she knew the answer.
Within three days of her father’s passing, all that needed to be done in seeing him quietly laid to rest in the churchyard next to his wife and parents had been done, and while the churchyard grew just that much more crowded, Silverthorne Hall was left with a gaping hole.
However, it was not just the house which seemed incomplete, so did Addie’s heart.
“Are you going to come with me?” James asked five days after their family had shrunken by one. “I cannot ride two horses at once.”
“Take Stuart. He is an excellent rider.” She barely glanced up from the toast she was breaking into pieces on her plate rather than eating. It was better if all the heartbreak was done with at once. She simply could not bear to ride Damon knowing that tomorrow, he would leave with Mr. Eldridge and likely never return.
Addie was uncertain which was most painful, to know that Damon would be gone forever, or that Mr. Eldridge would be. It was likely both. She had come to view Mr. Eldridge as a very good friend, much as she did Damon. They both seemed to understand her and wish for her to be as she was and not as society demanded her to be. Neither cared how much she loved horses or the interest she took in understanding the workings of an estate and stable.
Such acceptance reminded her of her father and was what was missing and had made her brother such a ninny after he had left for school. When he had come home at that first holiday, he no longer viewed her as he always had. He saw her through the eyes of his friends, and they viewed her as no different than any other female of their acquaintance.
“Adela, please.” James sat down next to her and stopped her hands. “You cannot waste away in the house. Think of how distressed Father would be to see it.”
She clenched her teeth together and swallowed the immediate sorrow which rose at the mention of her father. Shaking her head, she whispered, “I cannot. I simply cannot.”
How did one abide so much loss all at once?
James released her hands and rose. “Then, I am going to find Camden and tell him that Pythias is the better horse.”
Her head snapped up. “No, you cannot! What will he do to you? How shall I live if you are not here?”
“You got on well without me before.” He shrugged and brushed at his sleeve.
“I had Father!” She paused to contain her emotions. “And Damon. Now, I have neither.” The tears would not remain contained any longer.
“I shall never forgive myself,” her brother muttered. “Not in a thousand years. I deserve whatever Camden does to me.”
Before he could get more than two steps closer to the door, she had him in her arms. “Do not leave me. I would trade a thousand horses for you.” She sniffled and attempted to smile. “Even if you are a monstrous fool.”
“Then come with me,” he begged. “It is not like you to allow life to happen without your approval. You have not eaten a proper meal in nearly a week, and you do not sleep as you should. I fear for your health. At least, come out and see the sun.”
She squeezed him tighter. This was the brother she remembered from her childhood – the one who teased and taunted her but would have run through a
cold winter night with only his nightshirt and slippers to keep him warm if she had required such to see her safe and happy. This was the brother who had vanished four years ago and been replaced with the one who rarely gave her a second glance on his way to do whatever it was which caught his fancy.
“I have missed you,” she whispered.
“I have missed me, too,” he answered before giving her hair a kiss. “Now, change your clothes. We are going riding.”
“Wait,” he called before she could exit the room. “Eat this.” He snatched what was left of her piece of toast off her plate and thrust it at her.
She thanked him and resumed scurrying up to her room to don her breeches and a green jacket which fit much better than the blue one Faith had given her at first. She sighed as she slipped her arms into its sleeves. The fabric of the coat wrapped her in its comfort, and the familiar scent of horses and fresh air, mingled with a hint of cedar, brought to mind images of the coat’s former owner for that was precisely how he smelled whenever he lifted her down from her horse.
Several minutes later, though not long enough to have her hair as neatly coiffured as her maid would have liked, Addie joined her brother, who shoved another piece of almost warm toast at her along with a piece of lovely stinky cheese, and together they made their way to the stables.
“I was beginning to wonder if I should come find you,” Mr. Eldridge said in greeting to James. “Miss Atwood, I am happy to see you.”
And he looked it. His lips were curled into a smile wide enough to give a bit of plumpness to his cheeks, and his eyes shone with delight. She had not realized until this moment, as she stood in front of him while he smiled at her and she desperately attempted to swallow her dry toast quickly enough to give a proper greeting, just how much she had missed him. Seeing him somehow made her world seem a little less barren. She pushed the unwelcome thought of his eminent departure from her mind.
“It was a lonely few days riding without you,” he admitted as he helped her mount his horse. “I believe even Hugo missed you, did you not, boy?” He stroked the beast’s nose as he asked it. Hugo tossed his head as if nodding yes, and Addie did something she did not think she would ever do again, she laughed.
This was where she longed to be. This was where things were perfect in the world, even when they were not. Here, with Mr. Eldridge.
“That is a wonderful sound,” James said. “But then, I knew if there was anything which could rouse your spirits it would be a horse.” He winked at her and then clucked to Pythias.
While her brother was right about horses being excellent at lifting her out of a blue mood, it was the gentleman swinging up onto the back of Damon who was truly responsible for the smile she not only wore but felt. Her smile faltered as the unwelcome thought she had pushed away before refused to remain tucked away. Tomorrow, her world would once again turn bleak for Mr. Eldridge would be gone.
“Are you well?” Mr. Eldridge drew alongside her.
She nodded.
“Truly?” He did not sound as if he believed her.
“As well as can be expected.”
“Allow me to extend my condolences once again,” Mr. Eldridge said.
“Thank you, but it is not just that.”
“It is not?”
She shook her head. “You are leaving tomorrow.”
“Ah, and so is Damon.” He nodded. “I understand.”
She shook her head once again. “You are leaving tomorrow,” she repeated, adding emphasis to the you. “I will miss more than just Damon.”
“You will?”
“James is only capable of being mildly entertaining.” She should just admit to loving Mr. Eldridge, but she had not felt so nervous about anything since climbing back onto a horse after having lost her seat when she was twelve. What if he did not feel about her as she did him? She was not certain her heart could withstand such a disappointment.
“And what of Miss Price and Faith? My sister is remaining at Mansfield for a time. If Tom’s father continues to strengthen, then she will join me for the races when Tom does. However, if Sir Thomas should decline, then, I will return once the races are done.”
He looked at her expectantly, and, if she was not mistaken, a bit hopefully. The expression gave her the confidence to push forward.
“Life is not very long, is it?”
He blinked. “No, it is not.”
“I had not realized just how short it was until I became an orphan.” Her lips quirked upward. It seemed odd to call someone as old as she was an orphan. It was not as if she was without care. She was just without parents.
“I can appreciate that since I am also an orphan.”
“One should not be too slow in acting on that which one wishes to do.” Her heart beat wildly behind her ribs. She could not allow him to leave without making her desires known.
He tilted his head as he studied her with a look of concern.
“I have not lost my senses,” she assured him. “I am just struck by the brevity of time to accomplish what one wishes to accomplish is all. Did you not feel the same when you came into your inheritance?”
He shook his head. “I was too terrified to consider that at the time.”
He was terrified? It was dashed hard to believe. He had always appeared so confident to her.
“I was a bit like James,” he explained. “I spent more time indulging my desires than preparing for my future.” He smiled sheepishly at her. “Thankfully, like James, I have a sister with a great deal of sense. She did not allow me to hide from my new-found responsibilities. I think I was struck more by the fact that life is not just a lark than I was the brevity of life when my father died, and my frivolous nature was drawn along to become a trifle more sober.”
“And my more sober nature is feeling it should perhaps be more frivolous – but not rash,” she added. Rashness was never wise. Even seemingly spontaneous decisions must be given some consideration before they are made – such as the one she had just made to share her admiration with him.
“To answer your question more directly,” she continued, “while I love Miss Price dearly, for one could not find a better friend, and I very much enjoy spending time with Miss Eldridge, neither of them is you.”
“Come with me.” His request was immediate and eager as if he had just been waiting to be given permission to make it.
Go with him? To his estate? It was a shocking idea, and yet it also felt as if it was perfectly natural.
“Please. Come with me,” he implored.
“Alone?” She needed to think this through. She could not just blurt a yes as she wished to do, for she could not stay with him at his home alone and retain any sort of good reputation.
“No, no, of course not. I meant with your brother, though I will admit that your brother will be little more than a chaperone.” He smiled. “A chaperone who can ride quite well – well enough to enter a race.”
Right. The race. For her plan to work, her brother would need to be at the race to offer Pythias to Mr. Camden. “That would be best, I suppose. It would seem odd for you to show up with two of our horses for Mr. Camden.”
“Yes, there is that,” Mr. Eldridge agreed. “But I was truly only asking so that I might not have to be separated from you.”
Surprisingly, a heart that had just suffered great grief and was expecting further sorrow was not incapable of being excessively happy. He liked her so much, then? She had realized when they had been riding each day before her father died that even when his sister and Susan were with them, he had paid her marked attention, and she had hoped he might admire her as much as she admired him.
“I should like to discover if we might suit.” He glanced to where her brother was just ahead of him. “I know your father has just died, and to ask to court you or anything else is not proper, but…” He shrugged. “Life is short.”
“Indeed, it is,” she agreed. “I will see what James says.” He would say yes. She would make certain of it.
“Then, perhaps we should catch up to him.”
“No, he can wait.” She was in no hurry to have her brother intrude upon the wonderful way she was feeling at this moment. Mr. Eldridge liked her – enough to wish to court her. “I wish Father had gotten to meet you.” Her thoughts would not stay contained in her mind. She felt compelled by some unseen force to share them with him.
“I would have liked that. From seeing his stables, I would have to say that I think he and I would have had a great number of things about which to converse. Was he always good with horses?”
“As far back as I can remember.” Her father had been a bit like Mr. Eldridge. He was fabulously good at getting a horse to do just what he wanted the creature to do. And to see him ride. She sighed. He would fly along the field as if he and his mount were one. Her desire to be like him was why she rode as she did whenever she could – fast as the clouds before a mighty north wind, that was how her father had described it.
In front of her, James rose from his saddle, leaning forward, and urging Pythias onward – up one incline, down another, around a stone tower that he had built just for the purpose of having a place to turn, and then back towards them before repeating the circuit.
“He is not half bad,” she muttered.
Mr. Eldridge chuckled. “No, he is not. There is a great deal of potential both in Pythias and your brother.”
“Do you truly believe so?” When she turned to look at him, she expected to see him near her, but not so very close that his leg was brushing hers.
“I’d like to collect on the race I won.”
His gaze slipped from her eyes to her lips and then returned. She swallowed.
“A kiss?”
He nodded. “And your promise to go home with me when your brother does.”
Heat spread across her cheeks. “You did win it,” she acquiesced as she leaned towards him, meeting him halfway on his quest for her lips.
