The Hopeless Hoyden

by Bennett, Margaret

  If Cecil meant to insult, Freddy took no notice. “Good of you to be concerned, Caldwell." He affectionately rubbed, then patted his paunch with both hands. “Gab made me eat. Feel quite the thing, now."

  With a sneer, Cecil drawled, “Wonderful. I suppose we've little choice but to allow the invalids to join us."

  “We're hardly invalids," Gabriel said, sounding irritated. Other than looking a bit pale, he appeared normal to Emily. And while concerned for his well being, she assumed Gabriel would know if he was taking unnecessary chances. Thus, when he looked to her for a greeting, Emily gave him a welcoming smile. She did not know, however, how to respond when he walked over to Marabell, covered her hands holding the mare's reins and asked, “Are your stirrups properly adjusted."

  Like a mute, she nodded her head. And for the life of her, she could not put down the heated blush she felt in her cheeks as he gazed warmly into her eyes.

  “I already did that," Ellison retorted.

  Gabriel squeezed her hand. “It never hurts to double check."

  Ajax was brought out, and to cover her own embarrassment, Emily fiddled with the drape of her skirt as Gabriel mounted up. The party trotted down the drive, and, reaching the main road, turned south. Immediately, Sylvia and Deborah maneuvered their mounts so that they rode abreast with Gabriel and Chesterfield, respectfully. Emily allowed herself to be crowded back to the rear where Ellison joined her.

  “Glorious day for a ride," Elision offered inanely.

  Emily recognized that the dandy was uncomfortable with her silence so offered him a smile. “Yes, and on such a day, sometimes it is nice just to enjoy the scenery rather than worry over what to say to another."

  He was forced to turn his whole body to better look at her as his starched shirt points would have severed his neck otherwise. “Do you ever really do that?"

  “All the time. I love the forest. There is beauty in the dark green of the woods, the yellow-green of open fields, the blueness of the sky and the cloud formations overhead."

  “Do say," Ellison breathed in awe. “I believe you mean it. See that meadow over there," he said pointing to a gently raising slope topped with a band of chestnut trees. “Most females I know would only see an old hill."

  “And what do you see?" she asked, surprised by the dandy's hitherto unexpressed poetic side.

  “Colors," was Ellison's succinct reply. His eyes squinted to see up ahead. “The different greens like you said and a blue heaven for a backdrop with splotches of yellow and periwinkle. Sort of a painter's palette, eh? See that patch of ground there? The dirt is more red than black."

  As they rode, much in harmony with one another, Ellison continued to give Emily uncharacteristic insight into his penchant for brightly colored clothes. It seemed that Ellison liked to dabble in oils, painting nature scenes.

  The winding road rose steadily, so the going was slow to make the steep climb easier for their horses. At last, rounding a stand of pines near the top of a ridge, Cleeve Hill, a vertical limestone precipice, topped with a flat grassy top, confronted them.

  As Emily and Ellison joined the circle of riders at its base, they heard Gabriel explain that the cliff was the highest point in the Cotswolds. “The Hill made up a large hill-fort centuries ago during the Iron Age. You can still see the ditches that were dug for defenses around the cliff."

  Sylvia, guiding her horse over to a shady spot under a stand of pine trees, rolled her eyes. "It hardly seems worth the trip. It is nothing more than a very big rock."

  The riders dismounted on the verge on the side of the road. From this vantage point, they had an excellent view of the formidable cliff.

  “Maybe to you it is not so grand," Chesterfield chuckled. “But I'd hate to be the enemy faced with charging up that hill."

  “Up on top," added Emily, “you can see in any direction for miles around."

  Deborah gave Emily a smile too sweet to be sincere. “Is this where you came to play 'King of the Hill'?"

  “'Queen of the Hill'," Emily corrected with a grin.

  She heard Gabriel's chuckle as he came up behind her. “What a whisker, Emily," he said playfully, then turned to Deborah. “The wind coming down off the mountain can be very strong, often gale force, in fact. Cleeve Hill is not a place where locals come to play."

  Deborah threw Emily a reproachful glare. “Well, it would not surprise me if Miss Pendleton did come here to play her silly games."

  Instead of answering this snide remark, Emily moved away. She was aware that Gabriel followed her, joining her under the shade of a weathered pine. He looked weary, the purple circles under his eyes appeared darker, and she could not refrain from asking if he truly felt all right.

  “Don't you start, Em. I've endured about all I can of solicitous females. You're the last one I expected to coddle me."

  She responded with an unrepentant laugh. “You force me to defend my sex. We cannot help ourselves."

  He smiled at her sally. Her unaffected gaiety was the best balm for any ill he could have, he thought while intently watching her animated face. “And why is that, pray tell?"

  She shrugged her shoulders, drawing his attention to the snug fit of her cherry habit. Gabriel noted, yet again, her small waist and wondered if his hands could span it.

  “It natural to our species," she supplied.

  Raising his eyes from Emily's slender waist to her violet orbs, guiltily he realized he'd lost the gist of their conversation. “What comes naturally?"

  “Coddling the sick.”

  “Ah, but that's not true of all women. Take Jane Taber, for example. She only asked me once how I felt," he said perversely. His intent was to tease her, to see if she were jealous. But the effect was spoiled, for Freddy came sauntering over to them.

  “What's this about Jane?"

  Gabriel, aware of his friend's interest in the young woman, answered, “Emily was relating her estimation of Miss Taber's sterling character."

  Thoughtfully, Freddy nodded his head while his eyes fixed on the young lady herself, standing quietly beside Sylvia Raines. “A delightful gel," he corroborated. When he realized he'd been staring too long at Jane, his round face turned a ruddy hue, and he gave them an embarrassed smile, dislodging the heart-shaped patch by his mouth and causing it to quiver.

  Emily chocked on a giggle, which caused Gabriel to chuckle and Freddy to ask, "What's so funny?"

  “You're losing your heart," Emily replied, then laughed riotously as Gabriel winked at her.

  Completely puzzled, the baron clutched a chubby fist to his chest. “My heart?"

  “No, silly," Emily giggled, pointing one slender finger to the curved corner of her own mouth. “Your heart patch."

  “Oh, damme...er, beg pardon. Meant no offense. Forgot myself," sputtered Freddy, preoccupied with trying to catch the black patch as a gust of wind plucked it from his cheek. He sadly watched it flutter to the ground. “Just as well."

  “What's just as well, my friend?" Gabriel could not help asking.

  “Used glued on the thing twice today already."

  “Come along, Freddy." The Viscount clapped the baron good-naturedly on the back. “We'll get you back to the Park in plenty of time to make yourself over for dinner."

  It appeared the others were ready to leave as well. As the gentlemen were expected to assist the ladies in mounting up, Emily eagerly took Marabell's reins, hoping Gabriel would help her. When Sylvia grabbed Gabriel's arm, thus obliging him to help her, Emily was deeply disappointed, though she tired to hide it with a bright smile as she accepted Ellison's hand up.

  The last to mount his horse, Gabriel gathered Ajax's reins. Emily noticed how the stallion pulled away, making it difficult for Gabriel to get his boot in the stirrup. He was about to throw his right leg over the saddle when the horse reared, throwing Gabriel off balance. Then, Ajax bucked, causing Gabriel to loose his hold on the saddle. His foot became entangled in the stirrup, and Gabriel landed heavily across the saddle. Ajax neigh
ed and bucked furiously.

  All the while, the ladies along with Ellison, who was an indifferent horseman at best, were scrambling to get their own horses away from the Viscount's crazed beast. Emily saw that Freddy and Chesterfield held their own in check, waiting for a chance to help their friend. Yet, Gabriel was in danger of being thrown or trampled at any second.

  Urging a reluctant Marabell along the right side of Ajax, Emily reached out her hand. "My lord, take my hand."

  It all came about so fast, seconds really, that no one could later agree on what occurred. But Gabriel saw his chance and grabbed Emily's arm with one hand, using the other one under his body to hoist himself up and over the horse's back. Though Emily tried to hold the mare, Marabell was understandably skittish of the nearly crazed stallion and sidled away. Emily was unprepared for the pull of Gabriel's full weight and lost her leg hold on the saddle horn. She would have tumbled to the ground expect Gabriel anticipated this. He let go of her arm and lunged to grab the front and back of her saddle with both hands.

  Once Gabriel cleared the stallion's back, Ajax bolted. When he saw that Emily wasn't in danger of falling, Gabriel pushed off Marabell and hit the dirt ignobly on his rump.

  Freddy and Chesterfield shouted, "Well done!" and "Great show!" while Ellison interjected, “Have a care!" amid shrieks of concern from the ladies. Emily, after regaining her balance, slid off Marabell and landed on her knees beside Gabriel. With both hands anxiously fluttering over his chest, she asked, “Are you injured?"

  Gabriel slowly rose up on his elbows and was about to reassure her when Cecil came up behind Emily. Reaching around her, Cecil offered Gabriel a hand up and drawled, “In need of help, Cuz?"

  Gabriel caught Emily's violet eyes narrowing at the sound of Cecil's voice. He recognized trouble brewing and quickly accepted his cousin's hand. “Thanks," Gabriel said as he bent down to brush his clothing off.

  “Are you all right, my lord?" Emily asked again.

  Gabriel gave her a lopsided grin. “All save my pride."

  “Be serious," retorted Emily, stamping her foot in the dirt. “You might have been killed."

  “She's right," said Freddy, still sitting atop his horse.

  “I’m fine." Gabriel retrieved his hat, which had somehow escaped all damage except a little dusting, and slapped it against his thigh. “I fell off a horse, nothing more."

  He could tell Emily wanted to say more. But he leveled her with a look that said he didn't mean to discuss the incident further. Thankfully, she understood, as her lips remained tightly pressed together.

  “What a horrid experience." Sylvia edged her bay closer to where Gabriel stood. “Are you absolutely sure you are unharmed?"

  “Absolutely," Gabriel said, then turned to Fordyce to quell any further queries. “Freddy, mind if I hitch a ride back with you?"

  “Well, ah, tell you what," the baron hedged. “Need to think of me horse." At Cecil's wicked laugh, Freddy's cheeks turned beet red. “Ride with Ellison, why don't you?"

  Gabriel's head had started pounding again, so he didn't argue but climbed up behind the dandy for the trek home. When Emily eased Marabell beside Ellison’s mount, Gabriel thought she meant to keep an eye on him. But as he listened to the dandy entertain Emily with a detailed discussion of the various shades of the color green, Gabriel found he was irritated with the dandy for having developed a possible tendre for his wood sprite.

  ###

  Tom arrived for dinner, and Emily watched with disgust as he proceeded to make a cake of himself over Prudence. While she didn't begrudge her brother his little romance, she did think it traitorous of him to completely ignore her as she sat off to the side of the drawing room, banished as she was by the other ladies.

  The conversation naturally centered about the Viscount's disastrous day. After Gabriel joined them, however, he flatly refused to hear another word of the hunting accident or his tumble from Ajax. And while he stood somewhat apart from where Emily sat, she was willing to swear he'd voiced his decree staring straight at her. It was of little consequence, though, for he never came within ten feet of her the whole evening.

  The evening dragged on. Gabriel may not have wanted to discuss those suspicious accidents among the others. But if she had to sit up half the night, she planned to waylay the Viscount Lindemann. He owed her a few explanations, to say the very least. Finally, Emily, with her bruised ego, trudged up the stairway before the others were prepared to retire.

  Gabriel frowned. He hated to see Emily exit the drawing room. The moment she'd left, he was conscious of a lack of genuine warmth in the atmosphere. He acutely missed her bright smile, twinkling eyes and spontaneous laughter whenever she wasn't about. Life was fun to Emily, and she made it fun for him. But he couldn't afford to give her the opportunity to ask any questions.

  He had successfully eluded her, though it had hurt him to do so. He wasn't fooled, either, when she excused herself so early. Thus, to avoid passing her door and possibly being hauled into her bedroom, he slipped up the servants stairs after everyone had gone to bed.

  The next morning, he rose earlier than usual and went to the stable to check on Ajax. His head groom had sent word last night when the stallion had returned around dusk.

  “Come tearing into the yard, he did, milord," Gresham explained to Gabriel. “And a fine mess he was, too." The grisly old man punctuated this by spitting on the ground. “Lathered like a rabid fox. Ain't no wonder, though. Found this devil's piece of work under his blanket." He opened his gnarled hand and revealed a thin, bloodied plank of wood pierced with several brads.

  After inspecting the stallion, he returned to the house and purposely hid in his study. He despised such a cowardly maneuver but felt the circumstances warranted extreme measures. The longer he could evade his inquisitive imp, the better.

  But mid morning, when he heard Emily address the butler out in the hall, he knew his luck had run out.

  “Where's the Viscount, Pickering?"

  “I believe his lordship is busy this morning, Miss Pendleton." Good man, thought Gabriel. If anyone could divert her, it was Pickering.

  “Ah, so he is in the study. Thanks, Pickering."

  So much for diversionary tactics, Gabriel mused. Maybe if he didn't answer her knock.

  But no knock sounded. The door was simply pushed open. Gabriel kept his head bowed over the papers scattered on the desk, pretending ignorance of her presence. However, he was startled into glancing up by her demand, "Teach me to shoot, Gab."

  “Don't you know when a door is closed, you should knock before entering?" he asked, raising an imperious eyebrow for emphasis.

  “Oh, pooh, you cannot put me off with that sort of silly nonsense." She dismissed his argument with an airy wave of her hand. “Besides, you probably would not have answered."

  “Now why would I try to avoid you?"

  Angry sparks danced in her violet eyes. “Because you refuse to face facts." She marched up to the front of his desk. “Someone wants you dead--"

  “Now, Emily--"

  “And that someone was at Cleeve Hill yesterday!"

  *** Chapter 7 ***

  "Gabriel, you must teach me to shoot!"

  Gabriel dropped his eyes to the estate reports he'd been studying, then stacked them into a neat pile and slid them to one side. When next he raised his eyes and met Emily's, they no longer sparkled with anger but had dulled with worry. Getting up, he came around to the front of the desk, leaned against it, and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Listen, Emily--"

  “I examined Ajax's back this morning and talked with your head groom."

  “You shouldn't have done that."

  She studied his face before replying. “You really are not going to let me help you, are you? So far, there have been two attacks on your life, yet still you refuse to take the matter seriously."

  “If memory serves me right, you attacked me on our first meeting. That would bring the tally to three," he said, attem
pting a lighthearted tone.

  “So you admit I can take care of myself," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Frowning, he shook his head. “That's not what I meant to imply. Besides, Em, you can hardly call falling off a horse life threatening."

  “You were also shot."

  “By Jove, Em--"

  “You could have been grievously injured. You could be laid up long enough to contract a putrid fever, and then you would die."

  “I'm not hurt, nor am I bedridden, and I boast a hale and hearty constitution."

  “But for how long?"

  “Emily!"

  “I know, a lady of Quality would not argue with her host," she said, lowering her lashes.

  For a moment he was non-plussed by her submissive demeanor. But before he could recover enough to take advantage of her docility, she half whispered, “It is just that you may not be so lucky next time."

  “There won't be a next time," he said with deadly calm.

  “How can you be so sure? Besides, you will not let me help."

  “And just what is it you propose to do?"

  “First, you must teach me how to shoot."

  “Why must I do that?" Egads, she was a real beauty, and so alive, he thought, taking in her flushed cheeks framed by her honey-colored locks.

  “Because I do not know how to shoot," she said tossing her head back, giving him a challenging glare.

  “Why is that?"

  “Because my brothers would never teach me. Well..." she amended reluctantly, “they did try once. But they never really gave me a chance to perfect my aim."

  “Exactly how bad was your aim?" he asked suspiciously.

  She hesitated, a mere fraction of a second, enough to put him on his guard. “I do not precisely recall."

  “Try."

  “I never hit the target."

  “Which was?"

  “A tree, way off in the distance."

  “And probably as broad as a barn."

  “Will you teach me to shoot or not?" She propped her fists on her hips.