Page 12 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke
Thea gave a gurgle of laughter and smiled down at him when he had boosted her into the saddle.‘Perhaps I should have tried it.’
Hal fought the temptation to fan himself with his hat.Instead, he mounted Juno and pointed down the avenue.‘If we ride down there to that grove of trees on the right, then cut through there towards the church, I believe we will emerge at the new garden.’
* * *
They walked the horses down the first, steep section of the avenue, then let them have their heads.This time Juno’sgreater stamina showed and she drew away from Nero until Hal reined her in so they were riding side by side again.
Thea looked across and found Hal was grinning at her.She grinned back.It felt good to ride like this with someone who let themselves show their feelings, and did not find it necessary to pretend to be bored by a simple pleasure.
London’stonirritated her.It was necessary to be fatigued by everything, to find it all a great drag, to need to chase novelty at every turn or be thought insufferably unsophisticated for enjoying simple pleasures.
They slowed to a canter, then a trot as the house loomed ever closer.Hal pointed and they turned towards a ride cut though a plantation to their right.Water glimmered ahead.
‘I could see the lake from the tower.Look, there’s the church tower, close to the house.We make for that.’
‘Hmm.It is difficult to judge how it will look when it is finished,’ Thea remarked when finally they stopped at the edge of what had, until very recently, been a building site.The garden looked stark, a rectangle with a lowered central section containing a pool and fountain.The flower beds were in formal patterns, the planting young and insignificant against the bare earth.A raised flagstone walk ran around the edge.
‘It is deserted.It must be time for the workers’ luncheon,’ Hal said as the church clock struck twelve.
Wheelbarrows and gardening tools stood around and trays of young shrubs were set beside the beds, waiting to be set in place, but there were no gardeners to be seen.Nor were there any workmen on the scaffolding surrounding what looked like an orangery at the end of the new garden.
‘Strange how there is this return to formality now.The knot gardens of our ancestors were swept away by the creation of landscaped parks with little temples scattered inbosky groves and winding, informal lakes and waterways.And now here we are, back to creating the artificial.I do not believe that Godmama would find this appealing.’He shook his head as he studied the bare earth.‘And then there’s all the cost of raising hundreds of bedding plants each season.’
‘Quite.I certainly do not think she’d like it,’ Thea said, turning Nero’s head away from the new garden.‘Nor do I.I like mystery and romance in a garden, and all this shows is how much money its owner has to create it and maintain it.’
‘Then let us find a mysterious grove—hopefully one not infested with earwigs and irritable badgers—and see what is in these bulging saddlebags.’
Irritable badgers?
The man had a diverting sense of humour, Thea decided, as she followed Hal.Or perhaps he was reacting defensively to the wordromance, which was more likely, now she came to think about it.Most men seemed to consider that romance was the preserve of silly girls, or a weapon for luring the foolish into a compromising situation.
What they found was not a grove but a gently sloping grassy bank beside a large pond, or perhaps a very small lake.
‘The grass seems dry, even after yesterday’s shower,’ Hal said, dismounting and crouching to feel the ground.‘I can’t believe how the weather is holding so well.It will all be rain and mist and damp falling leaves before long.’
‘And there are no signs of badgers,’ Thea said, deciding to take that observation as a joke.‘I refuse to hunt for earwigs.’
She kicked her foot out of the stirrup and slid down before he had a chance to come and help her and led Nero to the pond to drink.
Hal flapped open a rug that had been rolled up behindhis saddle and unstrapped the bags of provisions before taking Juno to the water.They loosened the girths and tied the horses so they could graze and sat down side by side to see what Cook had given them for luncheon.
‘Two slices of chicken and ham pie; two cheese scones, buttered; two apples and two fruit buns, also buttered,’ Thea announced, laying it all out on the red-and-white-checked cloth it had been wrapped in.‘What do you have?’
‘Two bottles.’Hal removed corks and sniffed.‘Cold tea in one and lemonade in the other.A knife, two horn beakers and two napkins.All very efficient.What would you like to drink?’
‘Lemonade, please.’Thea laid out the two napkins between them and divided the food.‘This is just right after a morning’s ride.I am famished, despite that breakfast.’
They ate almost in silence, gazing out over the pond, occasionally exchanging comments when a kingfisher flew past in a flash of cerulean blue, or a deer appeared on the far side, nervously scenting the air before drinking.
It was companionable, and Thea felt no pressure to make conversation.It seemed that Hal did not either.She found it relaxing after the social pressures of London, where silences were awkward and one was expected to chatter on, even if all that escaped your lips was banalities.Which were then answered by even more trite observations or opinions.
When they had finished, Hal gathered up the napkins, flapped the crumbs over the water for the fish and came back to where she sat, leaning back on braced arms, her face tilted up to catch the precious autumn sunlight.He joined her, settling down in much the same position.
One of the bottles tilted and he moved to catch it and set it upright.As he sat back, his hand touched hers on the rug between them, fingertip to fingertip.He went very still.
Thea froze too, a wash of heat passing over her.What was it?They had been touching casually all day—he had helped her to mount, they had passed food and drink back and forth—this had no more significance than those fleeting contacts.And yet he was utterly still and so, she realised, was she, holding her breath, her eyes fixed on a rowing boat tied up on the far side of the pond.
Then Hal shifted position, just a little, the faint pressure was gone and she could breathe again.
