The Jane Austen Marriage Manual (32 page)

“I think you should try the dressing gown, too,” he offered and held it up for me. “I won’t look.”

He shut his eyes. I let the towels drop to the floor so that he knew I was naked. But as I stepped into the bathrobe my back went into
spasms again and I yelped in pain before falling backward. I clung on to the chair while managing to wrap the robe around myself so he couldn’t glimpse my naked body. He opened his eyes and rushed over to ease me into the chair.

“Thank you,” I said through the pain. If I had been attempting a seduction it would have been a laughable effort.

“You need some muscle relaxants,” he offered. “I’ll ring our local GP and see what he can offer you.”

“That would be great.” I forced a smile. “I can’t exactly walk down the aisle like this.”

“We have walking sticks,” he said. “Quite nice ones.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” I grinned. Then I paused. “No really, Griff, thank you.”

“Helping a damsel in distress, especially one who is paying to be here, is part of my job.”

I nodded slowly, not appreciating the implication that I had bought his kindness. “So, you’re heading out to London now?” I asked, fighting off a feeling of disappointment.

“It’s too late for today.” He smiled. “I may go tomorrow. But I’ll check in on you later, if you like.”

“I’d like that,” I stammered. “Oh, can you please ask Doris to get my cell phone? It’s on the dresser in my room.”

When he’d left I felt a twinge of regret. How ridiculous! I was merely reacting to the pain and was thankful that Griff was there when I needed him. There was nothing more to it. I had to stop thinking of Griffith Saunderson and call Scott to tell him what happened.

“If I’d known he was here I wouldn’t have come,” I told Clive and Emma. They had driven up as planned the following day. I had told them all about my accident and my rescue.

“Bollocks,” Emma teased. “You’ve been obsessed with Jane Austen all your life. This is your dream location and you know it. Though in this weather it looks more like Manderley than Pemberley.”

We all nodded in agreement.

“Besides, what does it matter if Griff is at your wedding?”

“It doesn’t really,” I said vaguely. Though the truth was it did matter. It mattered very much to me that my attraction to Griff had only intensified since I’d been at Penwick. But I wasn’t about to confess it to anyone.

After our visit, I took one of the walking sticks that Griff had left for me and went for a stroll. The doctor had prescribed drugs and they had taken the edge off the pain, but he had warned that it would take a couple of weeks for me to be 100 percent. It was no wonder I was in a foul mood. But it wasn’t only my pain, or impending wedding that had me irritated. It was also my fiancé. Scott had been sympathetic but hadn’t offered to drop whatever wheeling and dealing he was doing to help me or see that I was in one piece.

“You’ll be fine,” he had said. “Take the meds and a martini, while you’re at it. That will kill the pain!” He had laughed. I had not.

As I ambled along, I was so deep in thought that I found myself in the stable yard without realizing I’d been walking in its direction.

“Hello there,” Griff called out. “Nice to see you up and about.”

“Thank you,” I said and hobbled over. He was saddling up a horse. It snorted and I took a step back.

“You really are afraid of horses,” he said with a look of astonishment.

“Petrified,” I admitted. “They hate me.”

“Horses don’t hate anyone,” he said and led the animal past me and into a riding ring. I limped after him and leaned on the railing. “They are the noblest creatures,” he said earnestly. “You know where you stand with them.”

“Yes, at least twenty paces back,” I joked. He didn’t laugh. He seemed disappointed and I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t like him thinking less of me. “What do you like about them?”

“Aside from their strength of character and physical beauty?” He smiled. “I like that they trust me enough to let me ride them. That
they work with me and we create harmony, a partnership, a relationship of mutual respect.”

“Sounds nice,” I admitted.

Griff tightened the girth and ran the stirrups down, then looked at me with a sly grin. “Why don’t you try it?”

I shook my head. “No way, I’m already crippled.”

“Ah, but you see, it’s great therapy for a sore back,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” I answered. “I have a starring role in my wedding. I can’t take the risk.”

“Sounds like you can’t risk not riding,” he said and led the horse toward a wooden step in the center of the ring. “You sit on this horse every day and just walk around and it will loosen your back and undo all those knots.”

“Are you serious?” I asked desperately.

“I will hold the reins the entire time. You don’t have to be afraid,” he said convincingly. “I’ll take care of you.”

I was no horse, so trusting a man didn’t come easily to me. But I had to try something. I took a deep breath and stepped into the ring, walking slowly toward the horse with my cane. The horse looked askance at the walking stick and I stopped.

“Does he think I have a weapon?” I asked nervously.

“Horses aren’t used to seeing a person with three legs,” Griff said cheerfully. “That’s what it looks like to them.”

I smiled and walked closer, but as I got within reach I felt my legs shake with fear. “I can’t,” I stammered. “I’m too afraid.”

Griff stepped toward me and took my hand. His skin was soft but his touch was strong, masculine. He held my hand the final steps until we were standing beside it.

“You just need confidence,” he said soothingly. “Horses know when you’re nervous and they can take advantage.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” I snapped.

“Shush. I’m talking,” he snapped back. “If you behave in a calm, assertive manner they will have confidence in you and respect you. It’s no different to how you behave with people.”

“I can be assertive,” I said sulkily.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “But can you be calm and confident?”

“I
am
confident!” I said and yanked my hand from his.

“Really?” he said unsmiling. “You strike me as a beautiful woman who lacks confidence and instead relies on sarcasm and fashionable clothes to give you the appearance of it.”

I stood there, anger and frustration welling up inside, unsure of what to say, no doubt because on some level I knew he was right.

“You’re forty years old,” he continued. “It’s time you overcame your fears.”

“You really are something,” I said and was about to make a brisk exit when my walking stick snagged on a rock and I tripped. Once again, Griff was there to catch me. He held me, folded over his arm like a sack of grain. It was the closest I’d come to crying since my grandmother had died. The pain, the pressure of the wedding, and the humiliation of my horse phobia were overwhelming. I managed to stand again and tried to shove him away but he held on firmly. I thumped his chest with my fist. “Who are you to suggest I’m insecure?” I said angrily.

“Come on, Kate,” he said gently and relaxed his grip. “I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

“Weren’t you?” I snapped as I stood on my own again.

“It’s just that you’re like a jigsaw puzzle with its pieces scattered about,” he went on. “I’ve tried to put it all together but some vital piece is missing. I can’t make you out at all.”

“I’m easy to figure out,” I retaliated. “An open book.”

“If the book is a mystery, then I’d agree.” He smiled. “Accept my apology for my boorish behavior?”

“Are you really angry that I’m marrying Scott?” I asked bluntly.

“It’s not my business,” he said and looked away.

“That’s true. But you did kiss me,” I pointed out.

“I remember,” he said dryly. “Water under the bridge. Your life. Your marriage. As long as you love him, then I’m happy for you.”

I bit my lip. Griff was the last person I’d confess the truth to—that despite my best efforts, I still wasn’t in love with my future husband. Instead, I gestured to the horse.

“What’s his name?”

“Ratina,” he said. “He’s a she.”

I inched toward the mare and held out my hand. Ratina stretched her neck out so that her muzzle touched my fingers. I yanked my hand back and yelped. Ratina shook her head and pawed the ground. I sighed. So much for bravery.

“Give me your hand,” Griff said. He covered my hand with his as you would a child’s and we stroked the mare’s neck. It was silky smooth but I could feel the taut muscles beneath her coat. She was the color of dark chocolate, with a black mane and tail and a white star on her face and three white socks with small black polka dots on them that Griff said were called ermines.

“She must be some sort of horse princess to have ermine.” I laughed and stroked the horse on my own. Ratina turned her neck and watched me. Feeling braver, I stroked her face and muzzle again. It was like velvet. She lifted her head high so that her nostrils brushed my cheek and I felt the warm air against my skin as she exhaled.

“Blow gently into her nostril,” Griff instructed me.

“Are you kidding me?” I said, aghast at the suggestion.

“They like it,” he explained and stepped to the other side and blew into her nostril. The horse lifted her head and placed her nose next to his. He blew again and this time she blew back. I tried the same thing and Ratina leaned closer to me and exhaled again. The warm air on my cheek was sensual.

“I’ve never air-kissed a horse before,” I joked.

“Ratina is more sincere than the people at those dreadful parties,” he said, smiling.

“You’re probably right,” I agreed. We both stood there, so close, just Ratina between us. I looked at Griff and smiled.

“Okay, so now you know Ratina isn’t going to eat you, shall you get on?” he said, interrupting our intimacy, probably for the better.

I nodded. He helped me up on the wooden steps, which were called a mounting block. Ratina stood patiently as I swung my leg over. At first I leaned forward, clinging to her neck, but slowly I propped myself up. Griff adjusted the stirrups and told me how to sit and hold the reins, then took a long rope and clipped it to the bridle so that he had complete control.

“Okay, now just relax.”

He led the horse forward and I was immediately thrown back and forth in the saddle with each step.

“Whoa!” I called out, but Griff and the horse ignored me. Ratina’s walk took getting used to. She was a large horse and her strides covered a lot of ground. My hips rocked back and forth and while it hurt, it was a pain that felt good. I could feel the muscles deep inside loosening.

“This does feel good,” I confessed.

“Glad to hear it,” Griff answered and kept walking. After about fifteen minutes, he halted Ratina at the mounting block.

“Is my quarter up?” I teased.

“I have work to do, Lady Kate.” He smiled.

My expression darkened and I dismounted. For the first couple of steps my back felt like Jell-O, but it was definitely better.

“Again tomorrow?” he suggested.

“Absolutely!” I said enthusiastically. “Have you changed your mind about London?”

“I’ve decided to stick around for a few more days. I have loads of work to do,” he explained.

“Please don’t go on my account,” I said. If he could stand it, so could I.

The next few weeks were spent with the caterer, wedding planner, seamstress, florist, you name it. Emma was an immense help and I was thankful to have a real friend with me. I had kept up with my daily riding exercise and also learned to groom. I discovered that I loved brushing Ratina; it was quality time with her and I felt we bonded. Being with the horse gave me a sense of peace and tranquility that my normal routine in the city had never given me. Perhaps I had a country girl in me somewhere. Griff was patient and attentive but horses were all we spoke about. We never discussed the wedding again. Anytime I mentioned Scott he would go silent or change the subject. I was just happy to be friends once again, even if the flirtation had vanished. The more time we spent together, the more I came to like him, really
like him. He wasn’t aloof or cold, he was kind, funny, and sincere. He knew about many things that seemed to go along with his job on the estate—groundskeeping, animal husbandry, even accounting. And eventually he began to ask me about my work, the beauty babble I wrote, publishing, and even fashion. We seemed to realize at once that we could learn much from each other. Yet we also shared common interests that I would never have guessed, like our passion for old movies. The odd night he’d venture into the house and watch a DVD with me. We always sat on opposite sides of the immense sage green sofa. That we were growing close couldn’t be denied. It didn’t help that it had been almost a month and I hadn’t laid eyes on Scott. He kept making excuses each weekend as to why he couldn’t leave London. At first it bothered me. But as weeks passed, I found it bothered me less and less. Griff never asked where Scott was.

But now it was mere days before the wedding and there was a big prewedding party planned for Friday night. Scott would be here soon and when he came I’d lose Griff. Not that I really “had” him, for despite all our time together I learned little more about him, other than he lived in a flat above the stable. I knew his parents were gone and he had two siblings. Otherwise, he avoided speaking about personal matters. On several occasions he joined Emma, Clive, and me at the pub. It was here, at the local, as they called it, that I got a glimpse of Griff as just a regular guy. He and Clive told silly boarding school stories and tales of Oxford, many beginning with being drunk. Then his eyes glazed over whenever the conversation turned to my wedding.

“He’s just a bloke,” Emma explained in the pub’s loo. “All men tune out wedding talk. It bores the hell out of them.”

“I suppose,” I acquiesced. “I just can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time. I know he doesn’t approve of my marrying Scott.”

Emma stopped applying her lipstick and stared at me in the mirror.

“What?” I asked.

“Why would you give a damn what Griff thinks?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Are you in love with him?”