Page 12 of Nothing But a Rakehell
Hope stood at the edge and looked out over the valley for a while, then wandered over and sat next to her in the shade.
“Not going down this time?” Glory asked.
“Once was enough.” Hope shuddered. “It took me days to get clean again.” She raised a brow. “You’ve not been down. Are you not tempted to go down with them?”
“Not at all,” she said vehemently.
“Prepared, did you?” Her sister glanced at the book.
“Always.”
“Well, put it away for a moment and tell me what you think of Lord Keswick.”
“Why?” She closed the book. “He is your guest. I should think it matters what you think of him, not me.”
“Well, I find I quite like him.” Hope sounded surprised.
“He’s amusing, I’ll give you that. Quick.” He’d been quick to change the subject of conversation when he wished, too, she’d noted. She tilted her head at her sister. “You’ll never guess who doesnotlike him,” she teased.
“Who?”
“Tensford’s mama.”
Hope blinked. “He told you so?”
“Yes—and he thought better of me when I told him I’d earned her disapproval, as well.”
“Well, now I know I like him.”
They both laughed.
“You seemed comfortable with him,” Hope said tentatively. “I was thinking, perhaps we could invite him to the dancing lessons, to—”
“No.”
“But, it might give you a chance to practice with a real gentleman—”
“No.” She said it flatly. With a tone of utter finality. “If you even tell him about the lessons, I will quit them.”
“Glory—”
“No, Hope!” Her skin crawled at the thought of stumbling and lurching around the handsome viscount.
“Very well.” Her sister sighed. “I did want to thank you for allowing me to include Miss Munroe, though. The poor girl could use some companionship. Her mother is a bit of a . . . an eccentric, shall we say. She does not like people about. I think the girl is often lonely.”
“Miss Munroe seems nice enough,” Glory admitted. She straightened as the sound of voices drifted from the pit. “They are coming back up.” Standing, she pulled Poppy close and tucked the book away again. Gripping the extra strap that hung from her saddle for support, she stepped up onto the tree where she’d been sitting. She placed her good foot into the stirrup and hopped into the saddle, pulling her right leg up and settling it around the pommel and into the special cradle.
Hope watched, frowning.
“I’m going to walk Poppy for a bit, to be sure her hoof is fine.”
Hope only nodded, staring with narrowed eyes, then strode back to greet the men.
Glory took a slow turn around the top of the hill before making her way to the excited group.
“You barely look dusty, my lord,” she said, leaning down toward the viscount with a grin. “Did you not lend your shoulder to the efforts below?”
“No, no. The men were at their break. But they were kind enough to share their meat pies and I shared my own supplies.” He patted a pocket where she assumed a flask resided.
