Echoes of Tomorrow (26 page)

The horses were already at the front of the house when she stepped onto the veranda.  Angeline's perfect blond curls gleamed under her perfect riding hat while Reed helped her to mount a sleek Arabian.  Elise fantasized about ripping those curls from her head, until she noticed how Angeline was mounted.

Oh, damn.  I forgot about sidesaddles.

Another torture device for women designed for appearances rather than health.

Jeffrey gave a tug to the cinch, then led a beautiful, chocolate brown filly to the mounting block.  Elise took her time stepping onto the block, trying desperately to calculate exactly how to go about getting into the saddle.

When she could delay no longer, she took the reins from Jeffrey and lowered herself onto the leather.  A split second after her leg wrapped around the pommel and her full weight was on the saddle, the horse whinnied with pain and bucked violently.

Elise tightened her leg and sawed at the reins, but there was no way to grip the horse.  After struggling for what seemed like forever she found herself flying over it's head.  Seconds later the hard-packed ground knocked the wind from her when she landed flat on her back.  Pain shot up her spine and into her shoulders.  A cool breeze danced across her thighs while the world was treated to a lengthy view of sun-tanned legs and the lacy French cut panties she'd arrived in.

"My Heavens!  She'd naked under...Someone settle her skirts, for pity sake."  Angeline mustered up an adequate amount of outrage, but apparently not enough to stir herself into action.

Elise lay very still for several seconds and waited for the pain to subside and her breath to return to her lungs.  Someone alternately rubbed her hands and gently tapped her cheeks.  When she opened her eyes, it was to gaze into Reed's worried countenance.

When their eyes met, Reed froze, his hand just a whisper on Elise's cheek.  His eyebrows lowered in question, as if Elise held the answer to a memory he was searching for.

Think, Reed!  Remember!  Just open your mind!

She stared up at him, willing him to remember.  Her arms slid around his neck, and she moistened her lips for the kiss she could feel was coming.  His face inched its way toward hers.  Their eyes never wavered from each other.  His warm breath caressed her face, and she could see herself reflected in the blue of his eyes, could almost taste his lips on hers.

"Reed, sugar, is poor little Elise all right?"

The pair on the ground jerked as if they'd been shot.  Reed was the first to react.  He muttered a heartfelt "Damn" under his breath, then scooped Elise into his arms and swept her onto the veranda.  Gently, he sat her in a wicker rocker.

"She seems to be," he said, teeth clinched.  "Elise, how do you feel?  Do you hurt anywhere?"

She looked into her lap and mumbled, "If I did would you kiss it and make it better?"

She knew he heard her, but he gave no reaction at all to her words.

She was so disgusted at the interruption she wouldn't have felt pain if her back had been broken.  She shoved Reed and the now-hovering Jeffrey out of her way and jumped from the chair.

"Nothing hurt but my pride," she said as she shot a few daggers at Angeline and clomped down the steps.  She noticed the twit hadn't bothered to dismount.  She was too busy studying her fingernails.

Angeline's eyes widened when she looked up and saw Elise walk back to her horse and grab the reins.

"Surely you do not mean to ride after all.  Why, you should remain here and rest.  And perhaps a little more experience before..."

Angeline's voice trailed off when Elise grabbed the cinch strap and tugged it free.

Both hands slid under each end of the saddle.  Elise swore when something pierced her right thumb.  She slid the saddle from the mare's back and dropped it into the dirt.  A thorn-studded twig still clung to her upraised hand when she peered over it at Jeffrey.  He was the last person to check her horse.

"Gee, I wonder where this came from."  Her voice dripped with sarcasm when she held her thumb up, a crimson bead  around the thorn.  Jeffrey's only reaction was a look of concern.

Reed's gaze flicked toward Angeline before he took the steps in one stride to stand beside Elise.

"I am sorry, Elise.  Sometimes these burrs stick to the saddle blankets.  I'll have a word with Big John to be more careful."  He pulled the thorn from her skin and pressed a snowy white handkerchief against the wound.

"Don't bother.  No harm done," was all she said.  She handed back the blood-speckled square of linen and sucked the pad of her thumb.  She continued to glare at Jeffrey.

"Elise, sugar, we insist you go straight up to bed and rest.  I will have Nell bring you a tisane to ease any pain and..."

"Get real, Angeline.  All I did was fall off a horse.  And by the way...sugar...my name is Elise Amalie, not Elise sugar.  See if you can remember that, okay?"

Elise rolled her eyes when she peered over the back of the animal and saw Reed watching her.  His mouth was suffering a series of spasms which looked suspiciously like a man trying not to laugh.

Angeline huffed and her eyes narrowed as she watched Elise.

"Well, if you intend to ride, why are you pulling off the saddle blanket?"

Elise tossed the blanket onto the ground beside the saddle and dusted off her hands.  With a devilish smile, she hitched up her skirts to a scandalous height, stepped onto the mounting block and swung astride the horse's bare back.

"Does this answer your question?"

Elise felt a warm sense of satisfaction spring from within when she looked at Angeline's stunned, speechless expression.  She made a token gesture of flicking her skirts down when she saw matching looks of shock and admiration from the two men.  Angeline whirled around to glare at both of them.

A sense of freedom coursed through Elise's bloodstream.  She yanked the hat from her head and flung it behind her as she wheeled her horse toward the road.  Her body leaned low over the mare's neck, and the three stricken observers were left standing in a cloud of dust.

*******

Reed was still speechless over Elise's now famous horseback ride two days earlier.  And thanks to the servants' grapevine and Angeline's efforts, the whole countryside now knew of it.

Fortunately he'd heard no murmurings of the display - or lack - of undergarments they'd all been witness to.  His blood still stirred every time he thought of that lacy scrap of fabric.  He'd never seen the likes of it.  Where did one come from who wore that apparel?  Not even the girls in the "houses" wore that manner of garment.  And the very thought of Vancoeur's expression when he looked his fill...By God, he'd been tempted to call him out.

More and more disquieting thoughts had focused on Elise, even before the riding incident.  Now, try as he might, he could not get her out of his mind.

He grinned and shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose to rest his eyes.  Even as he found her actions outrageous and totally unpredictable, he'd felt a glow of admiration when she'd yanked off that saddle and mounted her mare astride. Unexplainable pride had swelled in his chest when he'd watched her race down the avenue of oaks and leave the rest of the party standing there, gawking.  He'd had to resist again, however, the overwhelming urge to call Jeffrey out when the man had blatantly admired the expanse of leg dangling beneath her skirts.

The woman could certainly handle a horse, as she seemed to handle everything else, including Angeline.  Most women balked at coming head to head with his betrothed.  She was known to have a double-edged tongue and could slice a person into shreds without ever actually saying anything opprobrious - all the while wearing an angelic expression.  Elise had neither cowed from nor taken any of Angeline's veiled set-downs, and had been in the enviable position of leaving his future wife speechless.  Angeline seemed to have been born with an opinion, and except for the confrontations with Elise, she had yet to cease expressing them.

Strange, these traits in Angeline had never bothered him before, but now he found them most irritating.

He decided to give up his attempts at working on his accounts.  The numbers were beginning to blur, but his mind had strayed long before his eyes had wearied.

It occurred to Reed to check with Elise and make certain she had all she needed for the ball.  The idea of her company was enough to send him pushing out of his chair and trotting up the staircase.  He was merely doing his duty as a host.  Nothing more.

The door to her chamber was closed, so he tapped lightly.  He didn't want to wake her in case she was sleeping.  There was a faint sound of movement on the other side, and he became concerned when he heard the sound of strained, laborious breathing.  Fear that she was perhaps ill had Reed shoving the door open and bursting into the room.

What he found made his blood run cold.

Elise lay on the floor, her hands behind her head and her knees bent.  With each struggling breath she curled forward, only to drop back to the floor again.  She rocked forward over and over again.

He was at her side in a heartbeat and had her face cupped in his hands to check for any signs of a fever.

"Elise!  Elise, what's wrong?  Where is the pain?  Can you speak?" 

Elise stopped rocking.  Her shoulders hovered above the floor, her hands still behind her head.  She quirked an eyebrow in Reed's direction.

"D'ya ever hear of knocking?" she asked, her tone and expression amused.  He sat back on his heels, mystified now that the fear was gone.  His right hand plowed through his chestnut hair while his heart slowed its beating.

"You nearly gave me apoplexy.  If you are not in pain, then why...?"

"I'm exercising," she explained with a smile.  A dimple appeared in her right cheek.  "After all, if I don't watch my figure, no one else will."

He was not sure which of those two statements shocked him more.

"Ex...er...ci...Good Heavens, Elise.  I thought you were having a relapse."  The relief hit him with a rush and he hugged her tight against his chest.  His lips brushed back and forth across her hair.  He inhaled the scent of gardenias - a scent that surrounded her like a halo.  Tendrils of fire crept into his limbs and wound their way through his ribcage and along his spine.

He felt Elise's arms steal around his waist, and he opened his eyes to gaze down at her.  Her eyes tightly closed, a furrow between her brows, she looked as if she were absorbing an exquisite pain.  Even as he watched, she inhaled sharply, as if drawing the sensation deeper into her soul.  It was then he realized with a jolt that she wore only her chemise and pantalettes.

It was like having fire and ice dumped in his lap at once.  He jerked, then gently set her away from him and rose stiffly to his feet.

"I am terribly sorry, Elise.  You must think me a monstrous cad.  I cannot hope to excuse my behavior.  I can only offer that I was so relieved you were not ill that my relief precluded good manners."

When he moved away from her, she looked up at him with hurt in her eyes. 
Hurt because I no longer hold her?  Or hurt because I treated her so shabbily?
  He watched as she lowered her head with a look of defeat.

He stood there for several awkward seconds, then moved to the door.

"Reed?"

His hand froze on the doorknob.

"I don't think you're terrible.  There isn't a man alive that I respect more."

She couldn't let him leave thinking he'd insulted her.  The feel of him holding her, kissing her hair, the restrained love vibrating from him - she had only wanted to be engulfed by the moment.  And the ecstasy of it had been painful because she didn't know when or if he would ever hold her like that again.

Damn his honor!  And damn Angeline!

She was beginning to wonder, even if he did fall in love with her, would he break off his engagement to that little blond witch?  These things were not taken lightly in Reed's time.  People didn't jump in and out of engagements - even if there were very good reasons.

She heard him mumble a few unintelligible words, a look of regret stamped on his face, before he closed the door behind him. Was the regret from having to leave her, or from ever coming through that door in the first place?

She sat on the floor for several minutes and stared into the distance.  What should she do now?  Everything she did was wrong.

She forced herself to shake off her doldrums and rise to her feet. 

There was going to be a ball here tomorrow night, followed by a day of picnics and outings, and she had more important things to do than sit around feeling sorry for herself.

As a guest, she had little to do with the preparations, but she planned to check with Lil and Nell to see if there was anything she could do.  And there was one last fitting for her gown.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

A refreshing breeze blew away the humidity on the morning of the ball.  The scents of bougainvillea, honeysuckle and earth mingled with the smells of hundreds of fresh cut flowers, beeswax and baking bread.

Elise kicked the sheets from her and stretched her legs until they shook.  She bounced from the bed and swept back the draperies, blinding herself momentarily, then reveled in the cool breeze and pure sunshine caressing her skin.  The air in the twentieth century never smelled so good.