sir. I thought it best if I did not.’ Seeing him raise an eyebrow, she hurried on. ‘This being the first time Lucy has ridden. The fewer distractions she has the better.’
The grey gaze met and held hers in a long and level stare. Recalling an earlier conversation, she felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. Was he annoyed? However, to her relief he merely nodded.
‘Well, you may be right on this occasion. However, in future I shall expect you to come along, Miss Davenport.’
‘As you wish, sir.’
‘I do wish it.’
Conscious of that penetrating gaze, Claire tried to appear unconcerned. However, it wasn’t easy when he was standing so close. With no little relief she watched him turn his attention to his niece, lifting her easily onto the pony’s back. She listened as he showed the child how to sit and how to hold her reins. Lucy hung on his every word.
Once she was ready he swung onto his own horse. He looked as if he belonged there, she thought, a born horseman. There was an elegance about the tall, lithe figure, and a suggestion of contained strength. She watched him take the pony’s leading rein and touch his horse with his heels. Then they set off, followed at a respectful distance by Trubshaw. Claire watched until they were out of sight and then retraced her steps to the house.
Lucy took to the experience of riding like a duck to water and the following day saw her and Claire in the stable yard again. This time, both were dressed to ride. The Viscount made no comment on Claire’s appearance and merely greeted her with his customary courtesy.
In fact, he had noted the habit with approval, his critical gaze taking in every detail. It was elegant and quietly stylish and, he thought, it became her very well indeed, showing off her figure to perfection. And what a figure! A man could span that waist with his hands. Even the sober colour looked good on her too, he thought, complementing her dark curls and enhancing those wonderful hazel eyes. He smiled wryly. It remained to be seen whether she could ride. He had selected a pretty bay mare for her, a willing creature but well mannered withal.
Whatever doubts he might have had on that score were soon allayed. She had an excellent seat and a light hand on the reins. Moreover, she looked very much at home in the saddle. He found himself wishing they were alone so that she might really put the mare through her paces. For some time they rode at Lucy’s pace, but then, feeling the need for something more challenging, he reined in and told Trubshaw to go on ahead.
‘We’ll catch up in a minute.’ He looked across at Claire. ‘These horses need to stretch their legs.’
At the thought of a gallop her eyes brightened. Part of her suspected he was also testing her, but she didn’t care. Once again she was aware of his regard and felt rising warmth along her neck and face. To hide her confusion she kept her eyes on the departing figures. When she judged they were far enough away she threw him a quizzical glance. He met and held it.
‘Well, Miss Davenport?’
For answer she touched the mare with her heel. The horse sprang forwards into a canter. Out of the corner of her eye Claire saw the Viscount’s chestnut drawing level. She grinned. So he wanted to test her, did he? She leaned forwards a little and gave the horse its head. The mare accelerated into a gallop, her neat hooves flying across the turf. Exhilarated by the pace and the rushing air Claire laughed out loud. Behind her she could hear the thudding hoofbeats of the other horse and then a moment later saw it draw level. A sideways glance revealed a grin on its rider’s face. In that second she knew he was deliberately keeping pace and had no intention of being outrun. The two horses swept on up the slope to where Lucy and Trubshaw were waiting. Claire reined in and then leaned down to pat the mare’s neck. Lucy was agog.
‘It was a draw, Miss Davenport. I was watching.’
Claire laughed. ‘I think you’re right.’
‘I’m going to ride like that one day,’ the child continued.
‘Yes, but not just yet,’ said Claire.
‘Certainly not,’ agreed the Viscount. Then, seeing Lucy’s crestfallen expression, he softened the blow. ‘You’ll learn soon enough.’
As they set off again he reined his mount alongside Claire.
‘How do you like the mare?’
‘I like her very well.’
‘I thought you might. She was a lady’s horse before, and is of a sweet temperament.’
‘Her owner must have been sad to part with her.’
‘I imagine so. However, I could hardly have mounted you on one of my hunters.’
Claire threw him a swift sideways glance in which dismay was clearly registered. Surely he hadn’t bought the horse on her account? That was ridiculous. He must have had the animal for some time. Yet she couldn’t recall having seen her when she and Lucy visited the stables before. Furthermore, the mare was no more than fifteen hands and finely made, certainly not up to a man’s weight. As the implications dawned she felt a strange sensation in her breast. It was a feeling compounded of gratitude and alarm. He had already shown her a great deal of consideration. More than she had any right to expect.
Although he could not follow her train of thought he could not mistake the expression of dismay on her face and he mentally rebuked himself for his clumsiness. He had meant to let her think the horse had been part of his stable.
‘I purchased her along with Lucy’s pony,’ he said. ‘As I told you, I shall require you to accompany my niece when I cannot.’
The tone was cool and firm and precluded argument. Claire avoided his eye and kept her gaze straight ahead between the horse’s ears.
‘Yes, sir.’
It was the only reply she felt able to give. He was her employer and his wishes prevailed. More than that, she had enjoyed herself too much today to want to forfeit the chance of riding in future. Now that she was on a horse again she realised how much she had missed it.
Somewhat to her disappointment, business occupied him for the next few days so she and Lucy had to go out without him. Trubshaw was in attendance as usual but the Viscount was conspicuous by his absence. Claire tried hard not to miss him but, though it was undoubtedly a pleasure to ride, it wasn’t the same somehow. She was annoyed with herself for feeling the lack. For goodness’ sake, she was too old for what amounted to a schoolgirl crush! He certainly wouldn’t be giving her a moment’s thought. Why should he? He had hired her to do a job. If he showed her any additional courtesy it was on account of what had gone before and, perhaps, because of her connection with the Greystokes.
That last proved a calming thought. The Viscount valued Dr Greystoke’s friendship very highly and was also beholden to Ellen for her previous care of him. He would not risk offending either by his treatment of Claire. Having got a new perspective on the situation, she cringed inwardly when she remembered her response to his kindness. What a vain little fool she must appear. As if a man like Marcus Edenbridge would look twice at a governess! Why should he? He could have his pick of all the eligible young women in the land. Mortified now, Claire resolved to demonstrate a different kind of behaviour when next they met.
That proved to be on Thursday when the Greystokes came to dine at Netherclough. Claire was relieved to learn that they were to be the
