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Authors: Karla Darcy

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BOOK: The American Bride
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"Do you really want everyone to know that you have been in the garden with me?" Tallworth asked, his eyebrow raised in mockery.

Cara bit her lip in her frustration. She would die before letting Julian find her in another awkward situation. Damning men in general and Tallworth in particular, she began to struggle anew.

In an instant Cara realized that her strength was inadequate against Sir Edward's athletic build. She searched for a way out of this frightening assault. Tallworth pressed her body backwards until she was almost lying on the bench. Taking a chance, Cara let her body go limp. Accepting this as a sign of her surrender, Sir Edward loosened his grip and prepared to conduct his seduction more slowly. As his hands reached for the hem of her skirt, Cara rolled sideways knocking the man off the bench as she sprang to her feet preparing to run.

A rasping cough cut through Tallworth's cursing as he staggered after the girl. The two protagonists halted, frozen by the unknown presence in the garden.

"Begging your pardon, Sir Edward, but Miss Farraday's wanted at the Hall."

"Who's there?" Tallworth snarled.

"Pennyfeather, sir," came the reply.

The giant stepped closer so that the moonlight glinted off his grizzled hair and seamed face. He ignored Cara totally although he was aware of her every breath. The air in the garden pulsed with the tension between the three figures; each of them statues in a tableau.

"It's Belin, Miss Farraday," Pennyfeather mumbled, breaking the spell. "She's woke up with a powerful nightmare and is carrying on somethin' awful. Mrs. Clayton thought as how you would be able to settle her down."

"Of course, Pennyfeather. I'll come back with you at once." Cara drew her cloak around her as she passed the malevolent figure on the bench. "Good night, Sir Edward."

As she hurried along the paths toward the Hall, Cara felt hot tears roll down her cheeks. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into Pennyfeather's arms and sob out her fear and anger. Almost as though the enormous man recognized her need, he placed a fatherly paw on her shoulder and slowed his pace.

"Just take some deep breaths and it'll be better," Pennyfeather suggested as though to a frightened child.

Cara followed his advice and was surprised that she did in fact feel better. She turned to the older man and smiled. "Thank you, Pennyfeather. I was incredibly stupid," Cara chastised herself. "I thought Tallworth was more of a gentleman. I’m afraid I was mistaken."

"Just remember that there's no animal in the woods that you can ever fully trust." Then the man gave a throaty chuckle as he looked down at the young woman. "'Sides, Miss, you didn't appear to need much help. Once you broke his grip it was clear sailing. You could always outrun him."

At the hint of amusement in the old poacher's voice Cara managed a watery giggle. Her mood lightened and they walked to the Hall in companionable silence. At the door to the children's wing Cara held out her hand in thanks. "Should I check on Belin before I go to bed?"

"No, Miss. The child sleeps ever so soundly now that you've come to the Hall." Touching two fingers to his cap, Pennyfeather slid silently back toward the woods.

Chapter Six

The sun, only minutes old, was visible as a promise above the line of trees as Cara hurried out to the stables. Glum stood in the stable yard holding the reins of a slim-legged mare. Since the beginning of her experiment with Richard and the colt, the wizened headgroom had been eager to set Cara on the best of Julian's cattle. Preferring to ride at dawn before the rest of the household was about, she managed to secure a carefree hour to herself before she had to take on the restrictions imperative in her role as a proper governess. Somehow after the morning ride Cara was able to fulfill her duties without chaffing under the confinement of her designated role.

"It's going to be a beautiful summer's day, Glum," Cara stated, rubbing the mare's nose. "Morning, Gentian."

"She's a mite frisky this morning," Glum cautioned. "Better let her run a bit before you put her to any of those jumps."

Although his gruff voice held disapproval the twinkle in his eyes belied the words. Cara had infinite respect for the venerable horseman and realized the compliment he paid her by letting her ride the horses unattended. Although she had ridden others she had come to love the dainty little Gentian whose mischievous streak turned every ride into a challenge.

"Now, Glum, you know I'll treat her like the lady she is," Cara said straight-faced. "Gentian and I have worked out a very nice arrangement. She gets to have her way on the ride out and I get to have my way coming back to the stables."

At Glum's snort of mirth Cara gave him a dazzling smile, warm and free of restraint. The old man cocked his head to the side studying the girl as she patted and caressed the mare. It always surprised him that no one had been able to discern the beauty of the girl despite the dowdy clothes and the all-encompassing headdress. It amused him when she arrived at the stable all bland looks and prim airs in case anyone was near. When they were alone the girl opened up, making him privy to the warm-hearted natural grace beneath the fusty disguise. He supposed that it was necessary to hide her looks in order to hire out as governess but it certainly was a shame.

Glum nested his fingers to give the girl a leg up, marveling at the featherweight in his hands. He watched while Cara arranged her knee on the sidesaddle and smoothed the skirts of her oversize riding habit. Despite it's poor fit the dove gray color became her, Glum noted. As the girl and the mare trotted sedately out of the yard, the groom shook his head, knowing that just beyond the band of trees that hid them from sight they would be flying along the track that led to the high fields. His leathery skin wrinkled in amusement as he remembered the first time Cara had ridden out.

He had followed the girl that first morning. Unsure of Caroline's expertise and concerned for Wilton's bloodstock, he had remained out of sight and had almost stumbled on her when she stopped at the trees lining the first clearing. Easing himself into the sheltering underbrush Glum had moved to the edge of the opening. His old eyes had almost started out of his head when the governess pulled off her headdress to display a wealth of burnished curls that fluttered like a pennant as she raced across the field.

Thoroughly intrigued, Glum had followed Cara to the high fields staying well within the cover of trees as he watched her. In growing respect he had observed the care with which she worked the horse. Each tested the other for weakness but the young woman always maintained a firm control. Finally both the governess and the horse rode as a single unit. Her jumping skills were apparent as she started slowly and then increased the height of the jumps until she felt the horse hesitate. Then leaping off the horse's back she rubbed the sweating animal with sweet-smelling clumps of grass, humming as she worked. From that day on, Glum never worried when the girl rode out in the morning.

Unaware of Glum's reminiscing, Cara and Gentian sniffed at the dewy smell filling their nostrils. As the track wound up through the woods the gray capered under Cara's relaxed rein. When they reached the high field the mare, accustomed to the routine, stood whickering as Cara untied her loathsome headdress and unbound her hair. In the quiet of the early morning she was free of the restrictions of her self-imposed disguise. For an hour she was back again in America riding her father's horses, loose hair flying in the summer wind.

"Hold on a minute, Gentian," Cara laughed as the dainty mare stamped impatiently. "We'll be off soon enough."

Cara ran her fingers through her hair, letting the riot of red-gold curls tumble unchecked down her back. Her head felt lighter, free of the weighty braid of hair she had to bind close against the nape of her neck. It was the part of playing the frumpy governess she hated the most. Unbuttoning the collar of her habit she stretched her neck trying to catch the morning breeze on her perspiring throat.

"What a wonderful morning," Cara sighed aloud.

At the unladylike snort of annoyance from her companion, Cara kneed the mare into a gentle trot as she breathed in the fresh air, her mind busy with her own thoughts.

It had been over a week since she had had her angry confrontation with Julian in the stableyard. It still amazed her that he hadn't dismissed her out of hand for her ill-advised verbal attack. Since then Cara had tried to maintain exemplary decorum but she was aware of his disapproving eyes following her whenever they chanced to meet. Thankfully he had not summoned the children for a further audience.

Gentian blew, the muscles under her skin jumping to indicate her readiness for a more vigorous workout. With a start, Cara brought her mind back to the business at hand. She settled herself more securely in the sidesaddle then nudged the mare into a blur of movement. Tearing across the fields and up into the flatter meadows Cara reveled in the wind against her face. The blood pulsed in her veins as she blended with the movement of the horse, giving Gentian her head although directing the horse to the area where the jumps were located.

Julian usually did not ride at such an early hour. However since his houseguests had all abandoned him to rusticate in the country he had been rising at dawn. He did not miss them; he had to admit that their continued company had begun to pall on him. Since he had been at Weathersfield he was becoming more interested in the property. Perhaps he ought to spend more time on the estate despite the lures cast out by the departing Valencia.

"Darling, you can't possibly stay here," the blond girl drawled, peeping at him through a flutter of eyelashes. "The Regent and simply everyone will be in Brighton. Couldn't you come with us?"

"Really, Valencia. You needn't carry on so. I'm sure you will have gallants aplenty to hover around you," he countered.

"But, Julian, I'll miss you."

Julian was surprised to discover that he was quite impervious to the pleading tones of the golden girl framed in the carriage window. She had always preened and pouted to force him to do her bidding. He knew that there were others who had sampled the delights of the winsome girl posed as a picture of wounded innocence. Her kittenish ways had amused him in the past but now he wished an end to her guises and false emotions. He shrugged off a vision of angry blue-green eyes as he kissed the wrist of Valencia's extended hand.

"Truly, my dear, I must be about my estate. I have been neglectful of my household and my tenants," Julian explained.

It was true Julian thought, as he sat his horse on the edge of the clearing. Since his houseguests had left he had delved more than usual into the business of the estate. He had always been conscientious about his holdings but had left a great portion of the details to his agents. Lately he had become aware that he ought to spend more time on his estates. Perhaps he had become bored with the social set in London. He had felt a building ennui which dissipated as he became more immersed in the day-to-day events on his property.

If only Edward Tallworth had left with the others, Julian's peace of mind would be complete. He was aware that the man was bored by Julian's sudden enjoyment of estate business but still lounged around, unwilling to accept the hints thrown out to take himself off. Though Tallworth grumbled and complained about the country hours and lack of entertainment, he had made no move to find more kindred spirits.

Julian's quiet reverie was shattered as a horse bolted through a thin band of trees to his right.

The sudden appearance of the horse and rider had an almost magical quality. Under cover of the trees Julian watched as the rider set the gray to the first set of jumps. At first he believed that the rider was a child but on closer scrutiny he realized it was a young girl. Her figure, almost at one with the horse, appeared to be slender but the swell of bosom indicated more mature characteristics. Sun-burnished curls blew behind her like a shaft of fire. Although at this distance Julian could not make out her features he sensed that she was a rare beauty.

As each of the obstacles was jumped, a tinkling sound of pure joy floated across the field.

With bated breath Julian watched in fascination as the twosome sailed over the low hedges, working toward the stone wall set at the far end of the meadow. The girl approached the high jump, but did not try it immediately. She walked the mare along the wall, talking and patting the neck of the sweated animal. Then Julian heard a low chuckle as the girl swerved away from the stones and trotted on the little capering gray down the field. Horse and rider thundered toward the wall and Julian held his breath as the mare's muscles bunched for the jump. At the last minute the mare shied, swerving and dumping her rider in a flurry of skirts.

Expelling his breath in a quick explosion, Julian dug his heels into the sides of his stallion.

Cara tested her limbs and was grateful to discover nothing but her pride was injured. She rubbed her grass-stained hands against her skirts then approached the grazing gray.

"You ungrateful hussy," Cara grumbled reaching for the reins. "After all the apples and sweets I've given you. That's the third time this week you've refused the wall. One of these days you'll have to take it, you know."

The mare nuzzled Cara's shoulder by way of apology and the disheveled girl affectionately stroked the neck of the beautiful animal. As she leaned over to brush the dirt off her riding habit she heard the sound of an approaching horse. In alarm she squinted at the figure at the far end of the field, recognizing Julian even at that distance. Without thought Cara grasped Gentian's reins and standing on a nearby stump catapulted herself into the saddle. Fear of discovery set Cara's heart pounding but she forced down her emotion as she once more rode the mare at the wall.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Cara crooned into Gentian's ear as they pounded across the field toward the rough pile of stones. "We can make it."

The horse must have sensed Cara's desperation because her muscles bunched and without hesitation she took the wall with inches to spare. In full flight the horse and rider raced for the trees and disappeared.

BOOK: The American Bride
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