Page 51 of The Best of Friends
“My family occasionally goes out to Richmond Park,” Colm said. “We could all meet there for a ride and perhaps a picnic. There are enough married couples among us and enough siblings to add propriety to the gathering.”
“Propriety?” Tobias shook his head. “Anyone who saw that atrocious attempt at dancing would not believe this group capable of any semblance of propriety.”
“Or any sense of rhythm,” Mater added, to the laughter of them all.
Toss watched Daria, wondering what she thought of the proposed excursion. She didn’t always feel comfortable putting forward her preferences. He was ready to eagerly agree with or make an argument against the proposal, depending on her preferences so she wouldn’t be alone in whatever she wished for.
“I’ve not ridden in some time,” she said, but not in a way that indicated she didn’t want to ride again.
Toss opened his mouth to suggest she seize this opportunity, but Colm spoke first.
“You ought not be denied the privilege any longer, Daria.” For that, he received the smile of gratitude Toss would have liked to have had sent his way.
The group was soon engrossed in planning this impromptu outing and determining how quickly they could make arrangements. Toss did not consider himself easily snagged by the green-eyed monster of jealousy, but he couldn’t deny that reaction was part of the reason he grew increasingly anxious about the outing.
He could ride, and he enjoyed it. But Colm Greenberry had fought in the war against Napoleon in the Thirteenth Light Dragoons, a mounted regiment. And the Greenberry family were very well-known for the highly prized horses they bred. Toss wouldn’t make a fool of himself, but Colm would undoubtedly be shockingly impressive.
A penniless musician whose own family was ashamed of him.
An athletic war hero whose family was well-connected, well-heeled, and well-liked.
Tosshadasked about getting points for being pathetic. If that were allowed, he suspected he would be about to win mountains of points.
Chapter Twenty
Richmond Park was a lovelyspot in the late morning. Toss had visited the expansive parklands on a couple of occasions when in London on term break, though he’d never been among those traversing the grounds on horseback. The park was quiet on this particular day, which was likely a very good thing because the group he had come with was decidedly not quiet. Everyone was present who had been at Lampton House when the excursion had been planned, apart from Mater, who had been replaced in her role of “wise member of the older generation” by Mr. Layton.
The snowy-haired gentleman had provided a few horses, as had the Falstone House and Lampton House stables. Laurence had been unwilling to allow Toss the use of one of his. The O’Doyle sisters had horses in Ireland but none with them in London. They had been provided with very fine-looking animals from the Greenberry family stables.
Tobias and Daria rode horses belonging to their family, but Daria looked a little uncomfortable and unfamiliar with her mount. Was she forbidden from riding, or did she choose not to do so? Her parents had shown themselves too often neglectful of their daughter and indifferent to her happiness.
Toss couldn’t understand any parent treating their daughter that way. Did Rosamond remember their parents well enough to know thatshehad been loved by them? Was he doing enough to make certain she knew?
The group intended to enjoy a very friendly and rustic picnic once their riding was over. Sometimes picnics among their class were almost ridiculous in their finery. Entire dining rooms were brought out into nature and set up just as they would be inside, but this groups’ version would be of the blankets-cushions-and-hampers-of-food variety. For the moment, though, all were enjoying the cool morning breeze as they rode at a slow and peaceful pace.
Toss knew, theoretically at least, that to be in the dragoons, one had to be an excellent horseman, but as he had predicted during the planning phase of the outing, there was something awe-inspiring in how well Colm rode. Awe- and jealousy-inspiring.
There were certain gentlemanly accomplishments that Society found more significant than others. Composing music was not precisely high on that list. Toss didn’t consider himself entirely unathletic, but he knew his skills didn’t precisely shine in that area. His fencing was mediocre. He’d learned boxing and was not entirely inept at cricket. He could ride but wasn’t the sort to earn gasps of amazement at his skill.
That had never rankled. Until now.
He was seldom in a miserable mood, but it well and truly bothered him that Colm’s skills outpaced his so much. And to make things even more frustrating, it bothered him that it bothered him.
He had no understanding with Daria, no declarations of mutual affection to give him reason to be protective of his connection to her. He’d imagined holding her, even kissing her. But he hadn’t the right to be jealous over a romance that existed only in his imagination.
“While the park is empty,” Eve said to them all, “we should undertake a race.”
Mr. Layton didn’t seem enthusiastic about the idea. Toss might have thought he disapproved if not for the almost immediate explanation he offered. “The windswept look loses its appeal once a gentleman has a six at the front of his age.”
“I’ve a two at the front of mine, and I am not clamoring for the experience,” Ellie said.
Nia slowed her horse enough to be riding beside Ellie. “You and I and Mr. Layton can adopt a more sedate pace.”
A great deal of good-natured ribbing passed through the majority of the rest of the group, with most predicting Colm would be the winner. Toss knew he was unlikely to match, let alone best, Colm, but he was determined to at least make a good showing for himself. He was, in fact, determined to.
So, when Mr. Layton gave the signal for the race to begin, Toss urged his horse through its paces to a run.
He was doing well. He wouldn’t be last to reach their designated ending point, and as he raced, his thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Daria. He glanced back, hoping she was noticing that he wasn’t showing himself to be entirely inept. But all thoughts of being impressive and showing off his skills, such as they were, evaporated. Her horse was tossing its head and champing hard. Daria’s frantic expression told him she wasn’t entirely sure what to do.
