“What?” His hands relaxed, and he rubbed them on his thighs. “Whyever not?”
“I’ve never ridden a horse,” she confessed in a choked voice. “I cannot do it. I just cannot.”
“People ride horses all the time.”
“Other people.”
“You’ve never been on a horse. What makes you think you won’t like it?”
“I didn’t say I’ve never been on a horse. I said I’ve never ridden a horse. Papa put me on one once, in Hyde Park, when I was eight. I was up so high, and this thing under me moved, and I screamed until he pulled me off. I swore I’d never get on a horse again.”
Colin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They needed to be on their way, and now. “You’re not eight anymore, Amy.”
“I cannot. I just cannot. The thing is ten times my weight, it has a brain all its own—why, it could buck me off, or run under a tree and make me hit my head on a branch, or—”
“Now you’re babbling.” He reached for her hand to pull her out.
Snatching it back, she burrowed even further into the corner and tucked the blanket tighter. “I’m sorry. If I cannot walk, then I’ll just wait here. I have a blanket, a book, and food. I’m prepared to stay until Benchley returns.”
“This storm could last until morning,” Colin argued, though he hoped to good heavens it wouldn’t. “You’re coming with me, and you’re coming on the horse. I’ll hold on to you. You’ll be fine.” He flung open the door, grabbed her hand from beneath the blanket, and pulled her up and out of the carriage in one smooth motion.
Glaring, she shivered in her blanket while Colin unhitched the horse. He watched her surreptitiously, his earlier annoyance rapidly turning to amusement. Imagine, an intelligent and educated young woman being scared of a perfectly harmless animal. Surely once she was riding, she would see it wasn’t frightening.
When the horse was free, he motioned her over. “I suggest you ride astride—you’ll feel a lot more secure that way than sidesaddle.”
“Sidesaddle?” She shot him an accusatory glare. “There’s no saddle.”
“Up you go,” he said cheerfully, his laced fingers providing a foothold to boost her.
“You go first.”
“Amy,” he said with an exasperated sigh, “if I get on first, I won’t be able to help you up.”
She huffed, then clenched her jaw and stepped onto his hands, swinging her leg over awkwardly.
And nearly fell off the other side.
Her screech pierced Colin’s ears even as he leapt to right her. Seated at last, her eyes wide with fear, she wrinkled her nose. “It smells terrible.”
Her skirts were hitched up in disarray, and the look on her face was so comical that Colin had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
“It feels warm,” she reported. “And scratchy. And very alive.” The horse took a small step backward, and she shrieked.
“It’s all right,” Colin soothed. “He’s not going anywhere.”
He turned back to the carriage, muttering to himself.
“Wh-where are you going?” she yelled after him. “Come back! You cannot leave me alone on a live beast!”
He leaned into the carriage to fetch Kendra’s basket of food. “I was just getting our dinner.”
After swinging up easily behind her, he held the basket in one hand and Amy firmly against himself with the other. His arm reached almost all the way around her waist.
“Better?”
She nodded. He waited until she relaxed back against him, then urged the horse at a slow walk toward Greystone.
They moved—an entire twenty feet.
“Stop!”
Colin didn’t. “You’re doing fine, Amy.”
“No! I mean, we have to go back!” She twisted, trying to face him. “We left my trunk!”
He reined in, swearing under his breath. “Oh, no. We’re not lugging that deuced trunk to Greystone. It’ll be here when we get back.”
“No—it must come with me,” she insisted, sounding panicked. She looked up and back at him, bumping her head on his chin in the process. “I’ll get it myself if I have to.” To emphasize her threat, she leaned to the side as though she were determined to slide off.
Colin clutched at her. “What on earth is in that trunk that makes it so important?”
She gritted her teeth. “Everything I own.”
The same answer she’d given before. He was certain she was hiding something from him, but then tears filled her eyes and he found himself climbing off the horse. He set the basket on the ground and headed back to the carriage.
“Thank you so much,” she called to his back.
It was the first civil thing she’d uttered to him all morning. He hadn’t a clue how he’d manage to carry Amy, the trunk, and their dinner on one horse, but he supposed it would be worth the effort, if she would act pleasant as a result.
Another shriek rang out as he stepped into the carriage. “It’s moving! The beast is about to run away!”
“Pull back on the reins,” he shouted.
“The what? Oh, dear heavens, it’s leaning down! It’s going to roll over on top of me and crush me!”
Alarmed, Colin backed out of the carriage. The horse had moved, all right—all of three feet. His head lowered, he was munching contentedly on a clump of grass by the roadside.
“Dear heavens is right.” Colin hefted the trunk and made his way toward her. “Heaven save me, please.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I hope you’re pleased I’m saving your trunk.”
When he heaved the small but heavy trunk onto the horse’s back, the poor animal turned its head to look at him dolefully. Colin sighed. He found it hard to believe the lengths he would go to in order to placate Amethyst Goldsmith.
“All right.” He looked to her. “Now move back so I can ride in front of you.”
“In front of me? How will you hold on to me?”
“I cannot hold on to you and balance the trunk, Amy.”
She tightened her knees around the horse’s middle, as though she expected him to haul her off. “I’ll balance the trunk.”
He looked at the
