Page 33 of Miss Harvey's Horribly Lovable Fiancé
She was a good horsewomen and Admiral was not only swift, but used to her romps at odd hours. She checked her looks in the mirror. No time for vanity. Only utility.
She ran her hand along the soft nap of her coat. In the dark of night, she might appear to be a dapper young man. A merchant perhaps. With her hair, pinned to a fare-thee-well to her scalp, she snatched up their groom’s old felt cap and shoved her hair inside. By dawn, she might make it to her Great Aunt Elizabeth’s little house along the River Dun. No need to stop. But she’d oft traveled that post road and recalled an inn or two where she might take a room if she tired or Admiral did.
She sucked in a breath and fought her fears.
Never had she ridden at night. In the dead of the night. Alone.
She shook off another twitch of trepidation.
And screwed up her courage. She would ride tonight. An adventure she would always be able to tell…no one about. Not a daughter. Or a son. Or Giles. Never Giles.
Her heart wrenched that he’d hate her. But she’d save him. Save him.
Papa, however, would howl.
Mama would scream.
No matter!
She stuffed her pounds into a pocket inside the valise.
What if it rains?
It won’t.
But the weather’s been cold.
And if it rains…
I’ll find an inn.
Because…now it was the time to leave.
Waiting longer posed threats of discovery.
She stuffed her knit shawl into the bag. Glanced around her bedroom.What else?
What else does a woman need when she’s running from the altar?
She sagged.
Oh. Heaven help her. She ran her shaking fingers over her quivering mouth. She needed hope that Giles could forgive her, forget her.
He would. Must.
She secured her superfine red scarf around her neck and grabbed her sleek leather riding gloves.
She paused, biddingadieuto her room, her first little doll and wooden doll’s house, her delightful collection of novels, her charming wedding gown. Her old self.
With one midnight ride, Young Esme—obedient to her mother, honorable to her father, ever hopeful of acceptance by her friends, in love with one magnificent man—was gone.
Here was born the new Esme.
She planned to admire her.
And if not, well…ten pounds did not pave the way to heaven, did it?
Boldness was a useful trait. She’d find all she required. She must.
