Page 42 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

“You’re doing it,” I say, impressed.

She lets out a shaky breath. “I am.” The horse lifts its head, making a raspberry sound, and Macey lets out a tiny whimper.

“You’re fine,” I say in a calm voice.

“Am I?”

I chuckle. “I’ve got to hand it to you: You said you would do it, and here you are.”

“Here I am,” she says. “Do you think I can be done now?”

“Come on,” I say, nodding toward the pasture. The grass is a mix of green and gold, droplets of water still clinging to some of the blades as they shift in the breeze, with bushes of little red berries breaking up the view. “You’re riding a horse; you might as well go for a short walk.”

“Okay,” she says, giving me a nod, and off we go.

MACEY

A text exchange between Macey and Amelia, Monday, September 16, 7:42 p.m.

Macey:This could be the very last text I ever send you

Amelia:Haha, very funny

Macey:I have to ride a horse tomorrow

Amelia:You’ll be fine

Macey:I’m leaving you my I’m looking for a Mr. Darcy shirt

Amelia:I’ll wear it with honor

Amelia:Also, stop being a drama queen

Macey:It’s like you don’t know me at all

“ZANE?” I YELL, BUT NOT so loud as to scare my beastly companion.

He doesn’t hear me; he’s too far ahead. This is probably how I die—on the back of a freaking horse. One that won’t move but would rather eat some red berries off a bush. Berries that I really hope aren’t poisonous.

You are strong, you are brave, you can do hard things. You willnotdie.

At least, if I do end up dying, I’ll look good doing it in this riding habit. Maybe they can bury me in it?Focus, Macey.

“Nice horsey,” I say, nervously reaching up and lightly petting Thunderbolt’s mane. I try again to press my right leg into its muscular side, like the stable master told me to do to get him to move forward, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, possibly sensing my fear, Thunderbolt tosses his large head back, pulling against the reins, and lets out a few grunting sounds.

“Oh gosh,” I say on a shuddering exhale.

“Macey?” I hear Zane call out to me, now probably twenty-five feet away, having finally realized that I’m not next to him like I’m supposed to be. No, my strong and steady horse is really a stubborn and, apparently, hungry one.

I look up to see Zane is now turned toward me on the back of Dandelion, a horse that apparently follows instruction. Why on earth would they give Zane a horse named Dandelion, and me Thunderbolt? How did the stable master take one look at me and think,This petrified woman should get the scariest of our horses? Strong and steady, my butt.

I know why. It’s because I didn’t say anything. I believe my exact words to the man were,Thunderbolt is perfect, thank you,as I gave him my well-practicedeverything is finesmile. It’s very toothy.

Why didn’t I say something? Curse you, stupid people-pleaser gene. But I didn’t want to bother the employee with my anxieties about horses, especially because it would probably sound ridiculous to him. It was seventeen years ago, after all. Besides, it’s not like Lady Catherine would let me out of this. It wouldn’t be canon. Blargh.

Zane could tell, though. He urged me to say something, once again, but I turned that toothy grin on him and told him I’d be fine.

Well, I’m not fine. Not as I sit here with a horse that clearly doesn’t want to listen to me. Or maybe I’m doing somethingwrong? It’s possible my panic caused me to miss some of the instructions. I push my leg into the horse even harder.

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