Fenella J Miller (10 page)

Her lips curved – how quickly
things had changed between them.

She had no interest in the
details of floral decorations for the ball that was to precede her wedding.
Neither had she any desire to be involved with the menu for the wedding
breakfast. Both Aunt Lucy and Mrs Weston were more than delighted to take joint
charge of everything.

The mantua-maker from Ipswich who
made all her clothes had been sent for and was expected to arrive the next
morning with up-to-date fashion plates from
La
Belle Assemblée
and
Ackermann’s
Repository
from which she could select her trousseau.

She already had a prodigious
amount of new garments which had been made up for her when she came out of
mourning for her father. But both ladies had assured her that as a countess she
would require even more. Penny hurried upstairs to her chamber determined to
escape from the house for an hour or so. She would take her horse for the
gallop round the park. This should blow the cobwebs away and restore her
equanimity. She was descending the second flight of
stairs,
whip in one hand, the skirt of her riding habit in the other, when she was
waylaid.

‘Miss Coombs,
how are you? I have been hearing from Ned about your exciting excursion this
morning.’

‘Mr Weston, good afternoon. I am
fully recovered and have no wish to dwell on it.’ Penny grinned. ‘I can assure
you anything aeronautical is now very low on my list of enthusiasms.’

‘You’re wise to avoid them. I
have never understood Ned’s fascination. If I wish to fly, I jump a hedge.’

‘Exactly my
sentiments.
Pray excuse me, Mr Weston, I’m intending to ride out and
don’t care to keep my mount waiting.’

‘You must allow me to accompany
you. I’m certain Ned doesn’t want you to ride alone. Although the militia
searched the area, one cannot be too careful.’

‘If Ned cannot come with me then
you would be my second choice.’

The young man bowed and, smiling,
offered his arm and they strolled down the stairs and out of the house.

Phoenix was saddled and waiting at
the foot of the steps. He was plunging and stamping almost lifting the
unfortunate stable boy from his feet. There were two grooms standing by their
own mounts, obviously intending to escort her.

On her appearance one of the men
handed his reins to the other and stepped forward to toss Penny aboard. She
turned smiling ruefully at James. ‘There, Ned has already thought of it. You’re
free of obligation, sir. Thank you for your kind offer, but as you can see I
have no need to ruin your afternoon.’

‘In that case, Miss Coombs, I
shall bid you farewell until this evening.’

He disappeared into the house and
her brow creased. She had offended him; he was obviously displeased at her
dismissal. But his mount wasn’t ready – he hadn’t been intending to ride even
though he was dressed appropriately. She would have been obliged to wait whilst
his horse had been fetched and Phoenix was in no mood to stand.

She shrugged,
dismissing the incident. She ran her hand along the gleaming chestnut neck of
her horse. ‘Shall we go, Phoenix? I wish to go down to the sea? Is that
possible?’

Perkins replied cheerfully. ‘Yes,
miss. If we cut through the park there’s a path that leads down to the beach.
It’ll take about half an hour.’

‘Then I shall follow you. I don’t
know my way about.’ She gathered her reins and forced her excited horse to drop
in between the two grooms. She thought she caught a glimpse of a pistol tucked
in to the pocket of the leading man, but dismissed her idea as fanciful.

Chapter Eleven

Ned swore causing a nearby
gardener to snigger. He glared and the man instantly lowered his head, tugging
his forelock and muttering as he scurried off. He had been trying to speak to
his beloved the past three hours, but each time he had ventured in it was to be
told, ‘Miss Coombs is still in the library with the ladies, my lord.’ And now
she had gone out on her horse.

He didn’t hesitate. ‘Saddle
Bruno,’ he shouted as he raced round to the stable yard. Tom coachman had heard
his call and the huge bay stallion was already outside the loose box being
tacked up by two nervous under grooms.

With a cursory nod of thanks he
vaulted into the saddle and was cantering after his errant beloved scarcely
five minutes after she had departed. He already knew where she was heading.
Penny’s voice had carried and he had heard her question about visiting the sea.

He was glad he had had the
foresight to arrange for Perkins and Reynolds to be ready to accompany her if
she wished to ride. There was no reason for her to suspect these two men were
other than they appeared. After the near catastrophe this morning he didn’t
want Penny upset again.

He knew exactly the direction she
would take and was quite content to catch up with her at the bridge. She was in
no real danger. He was just being overcautious. As he cantered through the sun
dappled avenue of trees he was smiling. He had good news for her; Mr Plum had
agreed to read the banns tomorrow at morning service.

Penny slowed her mount to a walk as
they approached the narrow wooden bridge that was the only route down to the
shore. She viewed it with disfavour.

‘Phoenix will never cross that.
I’d have difficulty persuading him on to a sturdier version. That looks
decidedly rickety.’

Perkins dismounted and tossed his
reins to Reynolds. ‘It’s perfectly safe, miss. I’ve been back and forth a dozen
times. Why don’t you get down and walk over it, see for yourself how safe it
is.’

‘Thank you. I’ll do exactly
that.’ She didn’t wait for the groom to assist her. She reached up and stroked
the chestnut’s head. ‘You’ll have to go across, my boy, if you’re to have your
gallop along the sand.’ The horse nudged her shoulder leaving a trail of
slobber down the shoulder of her smart green riding habit. Laughing she rubbed
it off with her glove.
‘Stupid animal!
Mary will be
most displeased with you for smearing my jacket.’

She led the gelding to the bridge
and allowed him to sniff at the railings. ‘There, you see, it’s just a piece of
wood. Now, you stand here with….’ She looked at the groom.

‘Perkins, Miss Coombs.
Me
name’s Perkins.’

‘So, you stand here with Perkins
whilst I investigate this evil structure.’

She held on to the rail and
jumped noisily startling all three horses. Reynolds, who had been distracted by
something he’d seen in the dense undergrowth on the far side of the river,
released his hold on his friend’s horse and it galloped back down the path.
Perkins, made of sterner stuff, managed to hang on to Phoenix, but had his feet
trampled in the process.

‘
Buggeration
!
The varmint - he’ll be home before we
can catch up with him.’

‘Mind
yer
language,
Reynolds .
Ladies present.’ Perkins snapped.

Penny watched the unfortunate
groom turn beetroot and turned away to avoid him further embarrassment. ‘I do
apologize,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘that was entirely my fault. I’m
afraid I couldn’t resist. When I was small my father used to take me to
somewhere very similar and we would pretend there was an ugly troll hiding
beneath the bridge. Only by jumping up and down would it be safe to cross.’

She heard the men chuckling and
knew she had put matters right. She was to be their new mistress in a few weeks
and did not wish to alienate the staff before she was even married. ‘I shall
walk sedately from one side to the other. I shall not make the same mistake
again.’

From her vantage point on the far
side of the river she watched the two grooms talking. They were obviously
deciding whether it was worth one of them riding back to fetch the missing
mount.

There was a rustling in the
undergrowth, but she wasn’t worried. Being a country girl she was well used to
hearing small animals in the hedgerows.

She looked longingly down the
path that led to the sea. The waves were small, no sign of the huge breakers
that had crashed against the beach that morning. A summer storm could be as
ferocious as a winter one.

As she turned she spotted
something glittering between the planks and, picking up her skirt, made ready
to drop to her knees to investigate. Before she completed her descent she felt
the wood under her fingers move and her heart jumped. Carefully moving into the
centre of the narrow bridge, she flicked out the coin trapped in the mud
between the planks. Perkins called her and she dropped her find into the pocket
of her riding habit. She would examine it more closely later.

‘Miss Coombs, your gelding’s
getting mighty impatient. If you still wish to cross we need to do it now.’

She hurried back making sure her
boots make no noise this time. ‘I think it would be better to leave it. Once
Phoenix becomes upset only a gallop will settle him. I don’t think it wise to
risk the bridge today.’

‘Very well, miss. I’ll give you a
leg up and then we can ride double. Luckily it ain’t far.’

Penny quickly rammed her boot
into the single stirrup iron before her horse could toss her to the ground. ‘I
must allow him to stretch his legs. On a single mount you can’t keep up.’ The
groom was about to protest. Surely it was she who was the mistress here? ‘I
shall see you back at the stable yard. I noticed we passed a meadow on the way
here; I intend to ride around that.’

Allowing them no time to voice
further argument she touched her heel to her horse’s flank and trotted down the
path. It took all her expertise to retain control. She must keep to a collected
canter until she reached the open field.

An overhanging branch whipped
through her hair dislodging her hat; she laughed and rode on. Spotting the gate
that led into the field she steadied her mount before urging him forward. They
sailed over the obstacle with feet to spare. Phoenix felt the soft turf under
his hooves and danced sideways, eager to race ahead.

‘Steady, boy,
we mustn’t take it too fast.’ She slackened the reins a little and sat deep in
the saddle. The horse lengthened his stride, breaking into a canter. She held
him there for a few yards until he settled, before lowering her hands and
giving him the office to gallop.

Hatless, her hair tore free from
its pins, and by the time she pulled up, breathless, but exhilarated, it was
tangling round her face and hanging damply down her back. Her attempt to push
it back from her mud-spattered face was ineffectual. Leaning forward she
slapped her mount’s sweating neck.

‘Well done,
boy,
that
was wonderful.’ He whickered, swung his huge head and nuzzled her
knee, leaving a second trail of slobber down her habit.

She clicked her tongue. ‘Come
along; let’s go back to the lane.’ She spotted a break in the dense hedge and
jogged towards it. The gap was filled by another large five-barred gate,
fastened securely with hefty rope. She peered at the knots in annoyance. She
had no choice; she would also have to jump out. She leant forward and saw the
path beyond was just wide enough for a safe landing.

She trotted Phoenix back, needing
to give him the necessary momentum for his leap. Facing at the correct angle,
she shortened her reins, and lent down. ‘Right, off we go.’ He needed no
further urging and broke into an extended canter and they flew into the air to
land in a shower of mud, in the narrow lane.

As they flew
over she saw the lane wasn’t empty as she’d thought. Penny struggled to keep
her seat as her mount, startled to find the lane already occupied, reared, his
flailing hooves adding to the chaos. Only when calm was restored and she was in
full control, did the significance of both
riderless
horses register. It was Bruno – Ned’s mount. Surely such an expert horsemen
hadn’t taken a tumble?

 
Then, to her astonishment, the hedge parted
and two hands appeared in the gap. ‘Whatever are you doing in there, Ned?’ No
sooner were the words uttered than she wished them back. The language that
greeted her ill-considered remark made her ears burn. She reached down, grabbed
Bruno’s flapping reins, and led him away from the heaving greenery, concerned
the horses would take fright again.

She watched from a safe distance as a head emerged, followed by a pair
of broad shoulders.

‘I can’t get free of this damn
bush. The thorns have snagged me and I’m stuck fast.’

‘As you can
see, I’m not in a position to assist you. But Perkins and the other groom are
not far behind me. If you remain still and be patient they’ll be here in a
moment.’ She was having difficulty keeping her face straight. ‘The more you
wriggle the more embedded in the hedge you become.’

‘I’m not
standing in here like a tom fool. Take the horses away from me whilst I get
myself out.’

She watched her beloved struggle, becoming more enraged as the thorns
bit deeper and was relieved to see the horse carrying both grooms approaching
at a canter.

‘Perkins,’ she called, having to raise her voice to be heard over the
crashing coming from the hedge. ‘Can you get Lord Weston out before he has an
apoplexy?’

Perkins slid expertly from behind the other groom. ‘You get over there
and help Miss Coombs with them horses. Lord Weston, you’re scaring the beasts,
sir. If you’re quiet, my lord, I’ll cut away the branches.’

Immediately he was motionless.
‘You’re right; my struggles are making the situation worse.’

Perkins unsheathed a knife that
was tucked into his boot top and pulled his gloves back on. The thorns were
vicious and bare-handed he would be severely scratched.

‘Hold still, sir, I don’t want to
cut you.’ The groom started the laborious process of releasing his master. This
task was only partially completed when the sound of a rider approaching from
around the bend in the path was clearly audible.

‘Good God! Am I to have an
audience now? How much longer are you going to be?’

‘Five minutes, my lord, no more.’

‘Too long; I’m coming out, stand
clear, man.’ With a herculean effort Ned wrenched himself free, the sound of
ripping material made Penny wince. With a final oath he was out. His release so
sudden he staggered across the lane and, losing his balance, fell face first in
the dirt.

It took all her skill to maintain
her precarious grip on Bruno who skittered nervously, thoroughly alarmed by his
owner’s emergence from the bushes like a rat from its bolthole.

‘Steady boys,
steady. Stand quiet. Stand,’ Penny soothed, holding her hands low and bringing her
own weight forward, disturbed by the distinct possibility of Ned’s imminent
demise, crushed under the feet of plunging horses. Equally worried Reynolds
leant hard on his horse’s chest, forcing it into the hedge and away from the
man spread-eagled on the ground.

Ned rolled and in one movement
sprung to his feet. She saw his hands were shaking as he brushed the worst of
the mud from his garments. She feared he didn’t trust himself to speak until he
had his fury under control. She watched, feeling more worried by the second.
This wasn’t all her fault, but she doubted that he would see it quite like
that. This was a different man to the passionate and gentle person she had
grown to love. He was a stranger to her.

At least aboard her horse she was
relatively safe from physical retribution. The red head slowly lifted and she
was impaled by a pair of arctic green eyes.

‘What the devil were you playing
at? Have you taken leave of your senses?’ Penny opened her mouth to answer but
thought better of it. ‘Not only have I been plunged headfirst into a hawthorn
hedge, but narrowly avoided being killed under my own horse’s hooves.’ He
stepped forward, his eyes not leaving hers. She swallowed; was he going to pull
her from the saddle?

He froze as Mr Weston arrived on
the scene. ‘This will keep, Miss Coombs. But be very sure this is not the end
of the matter.’ His severe expression vanished to be replaced by a shiny smile
as he turned to greet his cousin. ‘James, what brings you this way? I thought
you busy playing billiards.’

Her fingers slowly uncurled their
death grip on the reins. She was safe, for the moment at least. Then it
occurred to her that she could make good her escape whilst he was occupied with
Mr Weston. Quite forgetting she was clutching Bruno’s reins as well as her own,
she clicked her tongue and dug her heel hard into Phoenix’s side. The huge
animal responded and, with his horse at her side, she raced off down the lane.

When her brain once more engaged
in rational thought it was too late. They had left the others far behind. Penny
reined back to a walk, horrified by her foolhardy action and at a loss to know
how to put matters right.

If he had been furious before now
he would be baying for her blood. She sat back, ready to continue her flight, but
something stopped her. She couldn’t let him walk the remaining few miles, he
had suffered two accidents already today.

Reluctantly she turned the horses
round and trotted back the way she had come, returning scarcely five minutes
after she had left. Ned stood, arms folded, his face impassive. He was talking
to Mr Weston but watching the path. How could he have known she would have the
courage to return?