“There’s no need to be grateful.”
“But I am. After all, it’s true.”
“It’s been my absolute pleasure to have you here,” he said with a warm smile. And that was true. Every word.
Her eyes glistened with tears.
He wanted to reach out to her, but feared she’d misinterpret it.
She straightened her hat. “I’m sure you are keen to return to your history books.”
“Do you think me a boring bookworm? I am happy to delay my work until you have left for London.”
“So, I am to blame?” She ducked her head, failing to hide the blush which painted her pale skin a rosy pink.
Nicholas drew in a slow breath. “It’s entirely possible. I fear you will persuade me to fall in love with the Romantics,” he said in mock seriousness.
She shook her head with a small laugh.
His words lingered between them as they rode on in silence.
Chester burst out of the shrubbery, having abandoned his search for a rabbit, and danced around them, tongue lolling.
“It’s so beautiful here.” She gazed over the fields where sheep sheltered from the sun beneath the oaks. “I shall miss it.”
“You will soon have dashing gentlemen waltzing you around a ballroom. Much more exciting.”
“But I shan’t waltz. Gwen tells me I may only dance the waltz with a relative or my fiancé. I must be presented to the queen. And gain the approval of the Almacks’ patronesses.”
“That seems an unnecessarily strict rule. Everyone should be able to waltz.”
She skewered him with an unflinching look. “Oh? I thought you didn’t care for the waltz.” A smile lifted her lips. “I have heard it’s quite enervating.”
That she would feel slighted when he’d refused to dance with her had not occurred to him. What a fool he’d been. “I believe I can manage a few steps, Carrie,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. She laughed at him, but he disliked the suggestion even so. Right now, as he admired her delicate mouth and the dimple peeking from her cheek, he felt young and full of juice. “We might waltz, sometime, perhaps, before I need a walking stick.”
She grinned. “I should like that, Nicholas.”
Why had he said it? A rush of blood to the head. He had forgotten his determination not to waltz with her. She was entirely too lovely, with the soft rays of sunlight filtering down through the leaves to alight on her face. As if nature, too, was applauding her beauty. He forced his spine upright in the saddle. “Although I’m not sure when that will be. I shan’t stay long in London. Shall we join the others?”
“Of course.” She slapped the reins and urged her horse into a fast canter that seemed like a rebuke of him. When he caught up with her, Carrie didn’t look at him. Beneath her riding hat, her set profile made her appear unapproachable.
They continued on with the crunch and crack of twigs beneath the horses’ hooves in the still air. Nicholas tried to order his churning thoughts. As a single man, he must be careful. It wasn’t his standing in society that worried him. It was Carrie’s reputation. She should not be here, governess or no. Gwen had visited to put the seal of approval on it, but tongues could still wag. They had never intended Carrie to stay at Elm Park. She was to go straight from Yorkshire to his sister in London. But for Bella’s plea that she come for a few weeks, she would have done so. But this was not something he could have refused them.
Jeremy and Bella were well out of sight when Nicholas and Carrie rode up the drive toward the house.
In a blur of reddish fur, a fox darted out from the woods straight through the legs of Carrie’s horse. The fox vanished in a flash, but it spooked her mount. The mare whinnied and danced on its back legs. As Carrie fought to hold on to the pummel, the reins slipped from her fingers. Jumping from his horse, Nicholas reached up to grab the reins to steady the animal, but the mare danced around like a mad thing. Before he could grasp hold of them, with a cry, Carrie slipped off the saddle.
Nicholas caught her as she fell. She gripped his shoulder, her face close to his. Wide eyes met his. He held her tight against him and moved away from the horse’s stomping hooves.
The horse galloped away toward the stables.
“You’re not hurt?” He spied three tiny gold freckles on her nose.
“I am fine now, thank you.” Her sweet breath touched his cheek. “You may put me down.”
“No danger now,” he muttered, suddenly aware he still held her. He set her back on her feet.
His head groom ran from the stables.
“Milord. When the horse came back, I thought…”
“As you see, there’s no need for concern, Henning,” Nicholas said. “A fox startled Miss Leeming’s horse. Take Aquilo back to his stall. And see to the other horses.”
“I’m a bit shaky,” Carrie confessed.
He took her arm as shudders rocked through her. “You’ll feel better after some brandy.”
When they entered through the front door, Abercrombie hurried over to him. “Dear heaven, my lord, I saw the groom run past. What has occurred?”
“Miss Leeming fell from her horse,” Nicholas said. “No harm done, Abercrombie. Have Bella and Jeremy arrived back from the stables?”
“Not yet, my lord.”
“Send for them and have the tea tray sent in.”
They entered the morning room. “Some brandy?”
“Yes, please.”
