Page 41 of Finding Hope
“The gamekeepers will have laid other scents. It could be quite the adventure.”
“How clever,” Hope mused. “The whole point is a good ride, after all.”
The Duke had a famous string of hunters and was able to provide mounts for most of the guests, supplemented by the Cunningham stables.
Hope had never been on a proper hunter, and she was eager to make the most of the opportunity.
“This is Pegasus, miss,” the groom said as he brought the beautiful chestnut forward. His bearing and disposition indicated he would be a lovely companion for the day. “Hallo, Pegasus. You look a marvellous beast,” she said as she held her palm upright to offer the pieces of apple she had purloined forhim, then stroked his neck. Pegasus nickered in response as he eagerly chewed the apple.
Brosner assisted her into the saddle and adjusted her stirrup and girth before mounting beside her as she smoothed her skirts. They moved their mounts to where the others were waiting.
The hounds were barely held in check by the whippers-in, baying and circling, ready to be off.
The Duke led at the front, as Master, when the horn sounded and they set off. They fell in behind, Patience paired with Montford, and Max with Caroline. Joy and Lady Susan were keeping pace right behind the Duke.
It was hard to tell what was going on from her position, so she simply enjoyed the chase. And a chase it was. The hounds ran forward, noses down, communicating with their howls and bays. The gamekeepers must have had a time laying the scents as they zigzagged across the open field to begin.
It seemed as though they ran for a mile across the home farm before the hounds thought they had something. Hope watched as they set up an unholy howl and surrounded the covert where they had their false quarry cornered. After being rewarded for their good work, the hounds then took off through the forest on a winding path, up and down, until they came to another covert.
Hope noticed the whipper-in rewarded them with scraps of meat thrown on the ground before calling them away with his horn and back down towards the river. They continued in this vein for mile after mile, the Duke still pressing on, his cheeks flushed from the exertion. It was hard not to be affected by his enthusiasm.
They broke for the morning at the fishing pool to let the horses rest and drink. A small repast had been prepared for them with sandwiches, meat pies, fruits and ale.
Hope was covered in mud and feeling glorious, if a little saddle sore. It was easy to forget and minimize her troubles amongst the exercise and camaraderie of the group.
Max hadto confess the ride to hounds had been a good idea. His father was happier than he had seen him in years, and perhaps that was from knowing his time was limited.
Even Max was having fun on the ride, despite watching Brosner fawn over Hope.
Max kept trying to remind himself that he had no right to feel jealous when he himself was considering other ladies as his potential bride.
Lady Caroline was painfully shy, and once they began riding, he no longer had to try to converse but enjoy the chase—except she was timid, even in her riding. He had hoped her personality would not have carried over to her horsemanship, although to be fair, the hunt was very different from a normal course. You had to go at the hounds’ pace and take whatever came at you—fences, hedges, or even water. Not everyone liked the danger or unpredictability.
It looked as if the Whitford ladies were enjoying themselves, at least. He had never doubted they would be game for the sport.
Max would have to think of another way to draw Miss Montford out. Like most timid people, he felt once she was comfortable with him she would lose her bashfulness. Maybe Monty would have some suggestions.
They were at the back of the field, and he found himself trying to find ways around every obstacle yet keep up with the others. When they finally stopped for a rest, he could only feelrelief, and even wondered if she might wish to retire from the field for the day.
How uncharitable he was. Did it matter if his bride was a mediocre horsewoman?
They pulled to a stop, and Max looked up to see Freddy and Monty’s looks of pity. They drew alongside the rest of the group of their friends and dismounted. Waiting grooms led their horses to drink.
“You are riding like a slug-a-bed, Caroline,” Monty scolded. “You should change partners so Rotham can properly enjoy the chase.”
“I told you I could not do this,” she said quietly, while her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“I am enjoying myself, Monty.” Rotham felt for her, even though he been thinking the same thing. If Monty had mentioned his sister did not enjoy riding, he never would have asked her to join the hunt! He could berate him later.
“I am growing tired. We must have covered ten miles already,” Diana said. “Perhaps Miss Montford would like to return to the house with me?”
Miss Montford looked relieved and grateful at the suggestion. He did feel for her and wondered why Monty had embarrassed his sister like that.
“I did not realize you did not care for hunting, Miss Montford. You need not feel uncomfortable in saying so.”
“Thank you, my lord. I like riding, but had a bad fall over a hedge when I was young and never really took to it again. Monty thinks it is time I conquered my fear.”
Max thought if she had not conquered it yet, she was unlikely to do so now.
