Page 60 of The Burdened Duke
Miss Brookford slowed her horse to a brisk trot, and Cinnamon slowed accordingly. William let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding, his lungs burning. Sweat beaded on his forehead, sticking his hair down to his scalp. Lifting a shaking hand to his face, he wiped away sweat.
They slowed even more, finally stopping when the summit flattened out into a plateau.
“Well,” Miss Brookford said, sounding breathless, “You did it. Here we are.”
Letting out a shaky breath, he risked a look around. The view was spectacular, his own grounds spreading out below, the eaves of the houses far, far below. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. He wanted to say something, but his words seemed to have deserted him.
In the end, the decision was made for him. The overcast clouds seemed to give a shudder, suddenly darkening with rain. Miss Brookford glanced up and winced.
“Oh, dear. I think perhaps we’d better head down again, before we get caught in the rain.”
A lock of her hair had come loose, hanging around her face. William couldn’t help but stare at it.
“Yes,” he managed at last. “Perhaps we should.”
Chapter Twenty
The first few fat drops of rain started to fall as they neared the bottom of the hill.
Lavinia had kept a close eye on the duke, making sure that he was safe and well. It had occurred to her, more than once, that perhaps she’d been a little too hasty, strong-arming him into riding a horse before he was ready.
Her doubts had been put to rest fairly quickly. It was clear that the duke, despite his fears and misgivings, was in fact a good rider. Muscle memory for a thing like that tended to remain. The mare was a steady, good horse, and William sat well in his saddle. Their descent was much slower than their ascent, with William gripping the reins a little tighter than before, his face pale. Lavinia kept pace with him, talking easily and lightly about everything and nothing, mostly to distract him from his own fears, which were doubtless clamouring for attention.
He managed well, straight-backed and clearly nervous, but keeping his composure and keeping control of the reins.
For a first ride,she thought wryly,we certainly started out in a hurry. Perhaps I should have only let him sit on the horse, and get used to that, before we galloped up a hill.
She wanted to laugh. It had worked, though, hadn’t it?
Back in the courtyard, the groom waited, arms folded and his lips pressed tight in disapproval.
“I thought you wanted me to accompany you, your Grace,” he said, as soon as they were within earshot, clearly annoyed. “You didn’t wait. I was concerned about you, your Grace. Anything could have happened.”
William had the grace to look embarrassed. “I am sorry, John. We ought to have waited. Next time, I will, I promise.”
“The fault was mine,” Lavinia confessed, leaping nimbly down. “I hurried his Grace away. I apologise, as well.”
The groom looked a little mollified. “As you say, your Grace, your ladyship.”
A gong rang out distantly in the house. Wincing, Lavinia turned to William.
“I had better go in. My mother might have noticed my absence. She’ll worry, I think.”
He nodded, something odd in his face that she could not quite identify. She had caught him looking at her several times during their ride and convinced herself that it was only to see what she was doing, so that he might copy her.
Now, it seemed… well, she thought it might be something else. Warmth spread through her chest.
The moment was ruined by the groom coughing pointedly.
“Shall I take the horses in, your Grace?”
William blinked, seeming to recover himself. “Yes, yes, of course. Thank you, John.”
Smiling nervously, Lavinia handed over Stepper’s reins and turned towards the house. A movement at an upper window caught her attention, but aside from the flick of a dove-grey skirt, she could not see who had been looking down at her, or even if they had seen her or not. Perhaps it was just a servant passing by.
Lavinia bit her lip, an uneasy feeling starting up in her gut. She put her head down and began to walk faster. If she hurried, she might get inside before the rain started in earnest.
She was not quite correct.
