The Guise of a Gentleman (13 page)

Elise trotted Prince out of the manicured gardens. Once out in the open, she let him have his head and they galloped across the fields. She relaxed into Prince’s smooth gait, letting her body melt into his. How easy to lose herself in the pure joy of motion, the thrill of speed, the allure of freedom.

They reached the main road bordering her land. She’d ridden much further than she’d planned. If she failed to return soon, Matthews would worry and no doubt lead a search party. She paused at the top of a rise and looked out over the land. The clear day allowed an unimpeded view.

A solitary rider cantered along the main road as it wound along the hills and vales, the figure little more than a speck in the distance. She let her eyes rove, taking in the green, rolling hills, the neatly furrowed fields, the faint shimmer of the ocean in the distance. She imagined herself a medieval queen surveying her kingdom, with brave knights vying for her favor.

Shaking her head at her fanciful thoughts, she turned Prince around and let him gallop toward home. A lurch in his gait gave the only warning before Prince stumbled and went down.

She sailed over Prince’s head, flailing, and landed hard. Sharp pain shot up her foot and leg.

The terrible scream of a horse sent chills through her limbs. She lay stunned, desperate to draw a breath. Her chest seized convulsively. Dark panic overtook her.

Finally, with a gasp, air flooded her lungs. Grateful to breathe, she opened her eyes. That chilling scream continued. Prince lay with his back to her, writhing and shrieking.

“Oh, Prince ….”

She tried to rise, but pain shot through her foot and up her leg. She crawled to him, calling him and murmuring comforting words. When she reached him, she caught him by the reins.

“Easy boy, easy. I’m here.”

She tore off her gloves and rubbed his quivering neck. Under her touch, his screams faded to cries of distress. She ran her hand down his neck and heaving side, her eyes following the lines of his legs. His left foreleg hung in a sickening angle, broken beyond repair. Her stomach lurched.

“No. Oh, no.” Her eyes burned.

“Elise!” a distant voice called.

Only then did she hear hoof beats. A blue roan galloped toward her, barely discernable through her tears. The rider reined and leaped from his horse. He fell on his knees at her side.
Her watery vision cleared enough to reveal Jared Amesbury.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded urgently.

“No. But Prince has broken a leg,” she managed through her tears.

He turned his head toward Prince and let his breath out slowly. His sorrowful gaze rested on her. “He’ll have to be put down.”

With tears running down her cheeks, she rubbed her hand over Prince’s quivering sides. The stallion whimpered.

“I’m sorry,” Jared added.

Through her grief came the burning need to know why he’d fallen. She’d ridden over her land countless times without mishap. She looked back at the divots made by his hooves, but saw nothing that could have caused such a terrible fall.

Jared followed her gaze and went to investigate. “A snake hole.”

The utter senselessness of it left her alternating between rage and despair. She pressed a hand over her mouth.

He ran his hands along Prince’s neck. “He’s suffering. Do you want me to do it?”

She heaved a breath and nodded. “I couldn’t.”

The compassion in his expression almost undid her. Unable to speak, she rubbed Prince’s face, whispering a goodbye.

Jared helped her to her feet. When she tried to take a step, she cried out as pain lanced her ankle. In her distress, she’d forgotten her injury.

Alarmed, he lowered her to the ground. “Where does it hurt?”

She held out her left foot.

He carefully removed her riding boot and rubbed gentle hands over her ankle. It had already begun to purple and swell, but his touch did not aggravate the pain. It soothed.

“I don’t think it’s broken, only sprained.” He scooped her up, and she shivered within the warmth and safety of his arms as he carried her to his horse. “Wait for me in that grove. I’ll be with you shortly.”

She settled herself sidesaddle as well as she could on a saddle not meant for a lady in a riding habit. Once she found a position she could maintain, she urged his horse forward. After a few steps, she looked over her shoulder.

Jared retrieved a gun from his coat pocket. He looked back at her and waited.

She clicked to his horse and headed for the grove. Just as she reached the stand of trees, the gunshot cracked. She jumped. Jared’s horse didn’t flinch.

She sobbed. Prince had been a wedding gift from Edward. Losing him reopened stark pain as another part of Edward vanished. And Prince was one more friend to leave her. Their rides together would be no more. He’d never give her one of his affectionate hugs. He’d never nicker in greeting when she came to him. He’d never nose about her pockets looking for an apple or a carrot. She would never again feel his velvety coat, his sweet scent, his hairy nose tickling her neck as he nuzzled her. Her shoulders shook.

As Jared approached, she pulled herself together and wiped her tears, but fixed her gaze downward. Jared removed his gloves, took her hand in his and ran the pad of his thumb over the back of her bare hand. His rough hand was warm and soothing.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Let’s get you home so you can have that ankle tended.”

Grimly, he swung up behind her and settled her in front of him. When they were comfortable, he urged the horse forward. At first, she sat stiffly, aware of the impropriety of their close contact. Yet the warmth of his body against her side and his arms encircling her was comforting. Her muscles unclenching, and the knots in her stomach easing, she relaxed against him. He tightened his arms. Well-being crept over her, calming her, easing her grief.

As they rode, her ankle throbbed in earnest. She hooked her right foot behind her injured ankle to keep it from being jarred unnecessarily. The roan danced against the reins, but Jared kept him at a walk. Elise wondered if he held her so close because he feared she’d fall riding across on a gentleman’s saddle, or for another reason entirely. She rested her head against his chest.

His scent tantalized her, and she turned her face toward him, inhaling his smell. His muscles flexed as his arms tightened around her. Her heart thudded with more vigor.

After a moment, he loosened his grip on the reins and put his hands on her hips. She drew in her breath. He shifted her slightly and moved behind her. When he had her settled more comfortably in front of him, he removed his hands from her hips and simply put his arms around her, holding the reins in one hand, the other resting benignly on her arm.

She let out her breath, relieved and yet, unexplainably disappointed.

He leaned down and spoke into her ear, his breath fanning her neck. “You’re trembling.”

She tilted her head back to meet his blue-green gaze. His mouth hovered tantalizingly close, his lips slightly parted. The urge to trace the contours of his face almost raised her hand. She’d never wanted to be kissed so badly in all her life. She wanted that, and so much more.

And it terrified her.

His expression softened. “You have no need to fear me, Elise.”

She didn’t fear him as much as she feared herself.

A wicked, yet familiar glimmer entered his eyes. “I’m not going to ravish you right here and now.”

“Are you planning on ravishing me elsewhere?” She snapped her mouth closed, horrified she’d just uttered such a scandalous statement.

His mouth slowly curved. “You wouldn’t believe how badly I’m tempted to do just that. But I won’t. Not unless you wish me to.” His lips pulled into a sly smile. “Do you?”

Fearing her expression would give her away, she turned forward. “Certainly not.”

His chin brushed against the top of her head. Her body tingled in awareness of his nearness, his virility. He moved the reins into the other hand and smoothed her hair back. The contact felt achingly pleasant. Only then did she realize she must have lost her bonnet in the fall. She no doubt looked a sight with her hair probably sticking out in all directions. He gave no hint that he noticed. Instead, he pulled her in closer and pressed his lips to her temple.

The quiver in her stomach intensified. She felt both safe and threatened. Relaxed and alarmed. Aroused and frightened.

“You’re still trembling.” His chest rumbled against her.

She closed her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I am relieved to hear that.”

They rode without speaking with his arm wrapped around her. His heart beat against her shoulder. Strong. Steady. Safe.

Every nerve ending throbbed in awareness of him. She craved more of him, yet feared what ‘more’ entailed. She’d never been so keenly aware of a man, or ached so badly. He was thrilling and forbidden.

And yet, underneath it all, a sense of belonging arose. She closed her eyes and burrowed against him.

As they crested the next hill, hoof beats pounded toward them. Elise opened her eyes. Matthews thundered to them, his expression murderous. The groom reined in, eyeing Elise in concern, and sent Jared an open glare. His eyes moved back to hers.

“Are you all right?” he demanded angrily.

“Prince fell, Matthews.” Her voice shook as sharp sorrow returned.

The groom paled. “Are you hurt?”

“Just a sprained ankle. But Prince broke his leg. Mr. Amesbury came to assist.” Elise swallowed and battled her tears. “Prince’s leg was snapped,” she managed through her tears.

Matthews’s pallor became almost grey. “Where is he?”

“On a rise at the eastern border near the road.”

“I’ll go take care of him.” His voice sounded strangled.

“I’ve already seen to him,” Jared said quietly.

Grim and tense, Matthews nodded. “I’ll get someone to help me with the body.” He paused, glancing alternately at her and Jared.

“I’ll see her safely home,” Jared assured him.

Matthews appeared to size up Jared. Whether he approved of something he saw in Jared, or whether Elise’s expression convinced him, she did not know. He nodded again and spurred his horse back to the stables. By the time Elise and Jared had arrived in front of the house, Matthews and another stable lad were racing off together in a cart.

Jared dismounted, turned, and scooped her up. Safe and protected, she put an arm around his neck. How lovely to depend on someone else instead of being always the one to whom everyone looked for decisions. Before Jared mounted the front steps, the doors opened and a small army of servants poured out.

The head housekeeper, Mrs. Chambers, led the group. “Matthews sent me word you’d been thrown. Are you hurt?” Her eyes moved to Jared and narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing worse than a sprained ankle,” Elise said. “Mr. Amesbury kindly aided me.”

Mrs. Chambers’
gestured to the doorway. “Come inside. You can put her on the settee in the parlor.”

Jared raised a brow at Elise. “Wouldn’t you rather lie in your bed?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you can’t go into her boudoir!” Mrs. Chambers cried.

Jared directed an amused smile toward Mrs. Chambers. “I’m not going to compromise her, just put her in her bed where she’ll be more comfortable.”

Blustering, Mrs. Chambers turned an interesting shade of red. Some of the servants looked horrified, others stifled laughter.

“Would you prefer to have one of the servants carry you up?” Jared asked Elise.

“No. You may take me. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all.” Jared showed no sign of expending effort. As he carried her up the stairs, his breathing remained even and he spoke in a normal voice.

Mrs. Chambers sent for Elise’s maid. Continually protesting the indecency of a gentleman in her lady’s boudoir, she led the way up the stairs and opened the door. She stepped aside and glowered at Mr. Amesbury as he carried in Elise.

“A moment.” Mrs. Chambers pulled back the covers and stacked the pillows. Resigned but watchful, she gestured toward the bed and stepped back.

Under her glare, Jared carefully placed Elise upon the bed. He paused and looked deeply into her eyes. “Will you be all right?”

She finally gave into the impulse to touch him and laid a hand on his cheek. “Yes. Thank you. For everything.”

“I’m glad I happened along when you needed me.” Sympathy shone in his eyes, as if he somehow understood how much Prince meant to her.

She swallowed hard and looked away.

He straightened and stepped back. With a grin at Mrs. Chambers, he said, “I leave her in your most capable hands, madam.” He bowed slightly, paused at the doorway and flashed a brilliant smile before he quit the room.

Mrs. Chambers humphed. “Scoundrel. To even suggest such a thing as to enter a lady’s room.” She continued to expound on Mr. Amesbury’s faults as she brought pillows to prop under Elise’s foot. Her tirade lasted until Elise’s maid entered the room.