Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(42)

The mare gave a head toss as if demonstrating. Susanah relaxed her grip slightly.

“I am fairly certain I should object to the placement of your hands,” she said after they’d gone thirty feet.

“I only want you to feel that I will have you if you should slip.” He’d intended that, but he’d let the pleasure of touching her take over his intentions. Inching the hand on the cantle farther from her backside, he grinned up at her.

“Oh, I thought perhaps you were distracting me from my fears.”

“Is it working?” he asked. Sliding his hand down he checked the angle of her heel. He had to stop before he let his desire to touch her overrule his good intentions.

Her lips parted as she drew in a shaky breath. “Perhaps I should be focusing on riding the horse.”

“You have it.” It was harder than he ever imagined it could be to resist letting his fingers drift under her hem and feel her stockinged leg. “Not so different from riding a pony.”

“I’m just afraid the horse will take off, whether I will it or not.”

“I’m fairly certain this horse is too mindful of her manners to do any such thing.” A hired hack was generally too well-trained to behave so badly. “But if such a thing were to happen, I’d catch you quickly. You’d just need to keep your seat for a little bit.”

Susanah steered the horse to the other side of the lane. Then she pulled on the reins and the horse stopped. “Well, she does seem to take direction. But my heart is beating so fast it feels like it will burst out of me.”

“That should happen after I kiss you,” he insisted.

He hoped for at least the hint of a smile. Instead, her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head to the side.

After a second, she said, “The sensations are quite similar.”

“Are they?” he murmured, not quite certain if he should be concerned. “Are you afraid of me?”

She pressed her lips together. “I probably should be, but I’m not. Not really. Do you intend to ride?”

“Are you comfortable enough for me to leave your side?”

“I wouldn’t say I am comfortable per se.” Her brow tightened. “I don’t want to pretend to be fine when I’m not.”

He squeezed her thigh. “I don’t want you to pretend to anything, darling.” It was her perfect composure that left people thinking her cold and unfeeling. She was anything but unfeeling. But he had a better understanding that she had to completely mask her feelings to get along in her world. “It appears you don’t need instruction in how to sit a horse.”

“I will not have someone walking beside me if I need to ride, so I should attempt this on my own.”

He slid his hand down and squeezed her ankle, then stepped back.

She gave her mount a nudge and the horse resumed its shambling walk. He gathered up his horse and mounted. He trotted his horse to her side, and then he slowed its pace. First, he’d encourage her to ride and then he’d encourage her to marry him instead of facing a life of misery.



*

For a while, they just walked the horses in silence. It wasn’t like Evan to remain silent. Susanah started to wonder if she had offended him with her earlier outburst. Nothing good came of allowing her emotions free rein because her anger was always what spilled out. It wasn’t pretty or attractive, and he probably wanted nothing to do with her after such a shrewish outburst.

She should ask him if he was leaving town because he thought her lessons complete, or if he only meant to abandon them. But the question that kept popping to the forefront of her mind was who was that woman he’d been flirting outrageously with. Was she his lover? Or did he intend for her to be?

“Would you like to try a cantor?” he asked.

Susanah knew she should agree to it, but she didn’t want to push her luck. Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. Any time the horse twitched its ear a fresh jolt of fear ran through her. “Not this time.” But there wouldn’t be any other time. Evan was leaving town—although he hadn’t told her. Besides she couldn’t in good conscience meet with him again. Her chest tightened even more. “Not just yet.”

“Let’s give the horses a rest then. If you aren’t used to riding, you’ll end up sore.” He dismounted. “If you want, we can ride more after a while.”

She bit her lip. Maybe he wanted to kiss her. He said he did, but only offered the merest peck—well not exactly a peck, but just a slight brush of his lips against hers that left her hungry.

He tethered her horse to the rail. Then returned to her side to help her dismount.

She slid down against his body and went to wrap her arms around his neck.

Instead of holding her against him or kissing her, he set her apart and backed away. “Let me get our supper.”

Perhaps he intended to hand feed her as he had fed her the sections of oranges when they had been in the conservatory. Although, there wasn’t a little, wrought iron table and chairs here.

“Where will we sit?” she asked.

“I brought a blanket.” Evan tugged things out of a saddle pack. “I thought we could find a level spot beyond the walkway.”

The pedestrian track bordered Rotten Row, just beyond the wooden rails. She ducked underneath and looked for a place that was well enough lit by one of the burning lamps. Sitting together on a blanket would be far more intimate than sharing a table. A shiver ran through her.