Page 46 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
‘Then, now you are more comfortable in company, we should invite people here, so you may establish your own social life and be less dependent on our company.’
She held the hand that had reached out to her. ‘Thank you. I would like that.’
25
Rob leaned down and checked the saddle’s strap underneath the horse Caro would ride, ensuring the buckle was secure, and tight enough to hold the side-saddle safely.
From his bent position beneath the horse, he saw the skirt of her habit swaying with her strides as she approached. He straightened up, and then his mouth dried.
She wore a dark-blue riding habit that was tight over her bosom and trim at her waist. He had not seen that habit before. If it was new, he hoped it meant she would continue to ride when he left. She would be sweltering wrapped up in layers of undergarments and that velvet, though. The air was heavy with heat. He was dressed as casually as he might be if he rode with a male friend; he wore no morning coat, nor gloves or a hat, and he had rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows and removed his neckcloth so his shirt hung open in a v at his neck.
She had, at least, left her hat and gloves off. Her hair was pinned up in one big, swirling knot at the back, with a few stray curls framing her face.
‘Caro.’ He nodded a welcome. They had spoken very little all day because they were in Drew and Mary’s company.
He bent and braced his hands together, forming a step. She lifted her skirt and placed the sole of her boot in his palm, held one of his shoulders and the pommel of the saddle, as he lifted her up, boosting her into the saddle.
He left her in the care of the groom, then, and mounted his own horse.
His carriage horses whinnied in their stalls.
Perhaps he should have taken her out in his curricle, they could have talked more easily. But they could probably both do with blowing away the cobwebs of emotions with a good gallop.
He looked at Caro and smiled as he tapped his heels and rocked his pelvis forward to set the horse into a walk. She drew alongside him.
Over the last weeks they had found numerous topics on which to converse, but now he could think of nothing to say.
When they left the courtyard Rob noticed the colour of the sky in the distance, a hazy brown and grey. It looked like storm clouds. A warning that the hot weather was about to break in style, but a good rainfall would freshen the air for his journey tomorrow.
He looked at Caro. ‘I feel sorry for you riding in a habit in this heat. I have heard some women ride in breeches.’
‘I would not.’
He laughed. No, he could not imagine it. She was too feminine for such rash behaviour.I will miss her.
He should regret their kisses, but he did not. He would never forget this summer. He had been content here… But now, all he had was this last hour alone with Caro and one evening with Drew and Mary, and then this summer would be over.
The war of emotions burst into life in his chest: sadnessbecause he would be leaving here and leaving Caro, and excitement because tomorrow he would ride to London to begin his life. The future was a canvas for him to paint. He could not regret his need to leave any more than he did not regret this time with Caro. He had respected and admired her and then discovered a precious bond that was so much more than friendship.
Caro lifted into a trot and led the way along the drive. She turned the horse to the left when they reached the road, riding towards the home farm, beneath the shade of the trees that lined the road. As a cart passed, he rode in single file behind her.
When they reached the farm, they had a choice: to follow a track into the woods, which was on Drew’s land, or to turn into the home farm pasture fields which led on to John’s land. Caro rode through the farmyard, then urged her horse to jump the gate into the field. They had planned to ride through the trees, but the sun was no longer blazing down, it was struggling to break through a dense mist of cloud.
Rob kicked his heels and urged his horse to follow. Once he’d leapt the gate, he pulled up. She had stopped.
‘I want to ride on John’s land and gallop for a long ride,’ she said.
He nodded; he felt like doing the same.
She kicked her heels and set off into a slow trot so as not to disturb the herd of dairy cows in the field.
The perfume from her hair carried in the humid air. Lavender. He rode closer to her as she neared the next gate. She pulled the reins, slowed the horse, leaned down to lift a loop of rope from the post and walked the horse forward to open the gate for them to pass. She pulled the gate with the rope to close it again and lay the loop back across the post to ensure the dairy cattle were safely penned.
The next field was fallow pasture. They lifted into a canter. The horses’ hooves thudded on the thick turf.
The whole sky was turning the colour of stained linen, but Caro showed no sign of turning back and he did not have the heart to end their ride. Perhaps the storm would pass over.
They rode parallel to the woodland on the other side of the stone boundary wall. In places, the wood was the boundary between John’s and Drew’s lands, in other areas the woodland crossed the boundary. The next gateway, Drew constructed when he bought the manor and its land from John. It connected Drew’s pastures and John’s parkland.
