It Happened One Autumn (Wallflowers #2)(34)

“Milord made a point of telling me that if you were to ride, miss, you should be given Starlight,” the stable boy said, seeming impressed by the fact that Westcliff himself had condescended to choose a mount for her.

“How kind,” Lillian muttered, slipping her foot into the stirrup and hoisting herself lightly onto the three-pommeled saddle. She tried to sit squarely, with most of her weight carried on her right thigh and right seat bone. Her right leg hooked around a pommel with the toe pointing downward, while her left leg hung naturally in the stirrup. It was not uncomfortable at the moment, though Lillian knew that in a while her legs would ache from the unaccustomed position. Still, as she took the reins and leaned over to pat Starlight once more, she felt a thrill of enjoyment. She loved to ride, and this horse was superior to any in her family’s stables.

“Er…miss…” the stable boy said in a low tone, and bashfully indicated her skirts, which were still buttoned. Now that Lillian was mounted, a good portion of her left leg was displayed.

“Thank you,” she said, unfastening the large button at her hip to let the skirts drop over her leg. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, she gently urged the horse away from the mounting block, and Starlight responded immediately, sensitive to the slightest pressure of her boot heel.

Joining a group of riders who were heading toward the forest, Lillian felt a rush of anticipation at the thought of the jumping course. Twelve jumps in all, she had heard, all cleverly arranged on a track that wound through forest and field. It was a challenge that she was certain she could master. Even with the sidesaddle, she had a firm seat, her thigh snug against the curved leaping horn that would assist her balance. And the gray was a marvelously well-trained horse, spirited but obedient as he broke easily from a trot into a smooth gallop.

As Lillian neared the beginning of the course, she saw the first jump, a triangular coop that looked to be about two feet high and six feet across. “That will pose no problem for us, will it, Starlight?” she murmured to the horse. Slowing to a walk, they went toward the group of waiting riders. Before she reached them, however, she became aware of a rider coming up beside her. It was Westcliff, seated on the dark bay, riding with an ease and economy of movement that caused the downy hairs on her arms and the back of her neck to prickle, as it did whenever she saw a feat performed with stunning perfection. She had to admit, the earl cut a dashing figure on a horse.

Unlike the other gentlemen present, Westcliff wore no riding gloves. Remembering the gentle scrape of his callused fingers on her skin, Lillian swallowed hard and avoided the sight of his hands on the reins. One cautious glance at his face revealed that he was definitely displeased about something …the space between his dark brows was notched, and his jaw had hardened into an obdurate line.

Lillian summoned a carefree smile. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Good morning,” came his quiet reply. He seemed to consider his words carefully before he continued. “Are you pleased with your mount?”

“Yes, he is splendid. It seems that I have you to thank for choosing him.”

Westcliff’s mouth twisted slightly, as if the issue was of no consequence. “Miss Bowman…it has come to my attention that you are not experienced at riding sidesaddle.”

Her smile vanished from lips that suddenly felt frozen. Recalling that Simon Hunt had been speaking to West-cliff just a minute earlier, Lillian realized with a stab of annoyance that Annabelle must have set this in motion. Damn her for interfering, she thought, and scowled. “I’ll manage,” she said tersely. “Think nothing of it.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t allow one of my guests to compromise her own safety.”

Lillian watched her own gloved fingers tighten on the reins. “Westcliff, I can ride as well as anyone else here. And regardless of what you may have been told, I am not entirely unfamiliar with a sidesaddle. So if you will just leave me alone—”

“If I had been informed of this earlier, I might have found the time to take you around the course and judge your level of competence. As things stand, however, it’s too late.”

She absorbed his words, the firmness of his tone, the air of authority that rankled deeply. “You’re telling me that I can’t ride today?”

Westcliff held her gaze steadily. “Not on the jumping course. You are welcome to ride anywhere else on the estate. If you wish, I will assess your skills later in the week, and you might have another opportunity. Today, however, I can’t allow it.”

Unaccustomed to anyone telling her what she could and could not do, Lillian bit back a flood of offended accusations. Instead she managed to reply with tightly leashed calmness. “Your regard for my welfare is appreciated, my lord. But I would like to suggest a compromise. Watch me on the first two or three jumps, and if I don’t seem to be managing them well, I’ll abide by your decision.”

“I don’t compromise on issues of safety,” Westcliff said. “You’ll abide by my decision now, Miss Bowman.”

He was being unfair. He was forbidding her to do something merely to display his power over her. Struggling to control her fury, Lillian felt the muscles around her mouth twitching. To her everlasting chagrin, she lost the battle with her temper.

“I can manage the jumps,” she told him grimly. “I’ll prove it to you.”