humor.
Edmond stopped and turned so quickly his brother almost collided with him. “Listen to me. This woman’s brother died in my place. I have a duty to make certain she is not misused or abandoned. That is all.”
“Of course.” Greystone’s lopsided grin contradicted his assertion. “Why do you insist upon thinking I am suggesting anything else?”
Too tired to argue, Edmond limped from the room and headed toward the staircase. With each step, he was forced to admit Mother was right. Today’s exercise had helped work out some of his discomfort from having been laid up for so long. But he could not envision getting back on a horse tomorrow morning. Nor could he envision working for hours with the lovely Miss Newfield without coming to admire her entirely too much.
* * *
Anna endeavored not to tremble as she descended the wide front staircase. The Lord had not answered her prayers as she wished. Nor had He given her peace about the upcoming trial. But scripture said He would never leave her nor forsake her. Anna could cling to that promise far more easily than she would be able to cling to a saddle. If an injury was in her future, so be it. She would try to bear it as bravely as Major Grenville bore his wounds.
When she reached the bottom of the steps she inhaled a deep breath and blew it out, then squared her shoulders and walked through the wide front door held open by the liveried footman. A cold breeze smacked her face, bringing with it the strong smell of horseflesh. Against her lingering hopes, the major stood talking with another man, most likely the groom, for he held the reins of a brown horse. The creature eyed Anna with a look of boredom. Or was that a challenge in those large black eyes?
Still using his cane, Major Grenville stepped over to greet her. “Good morning, Miss Newfield.” He took her hand but offered no smile, which only added to her trepidation…and disappointment. “Ah, you’re trembling,” he whispered. “Don’t be frightened. She’s the gentlest horse in my brother’s stable.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out before Anna could stop it. “Oh, doubtless, she is.” But she could not keep doubt from her voice.
He pulled her around in front of him, gripped her upper arms and captured her gaze. “Miss Newfield, you may count on me.” The firm, warm touch of his hands set her heart to fluttering uncontrollably. “I will not allow you to be harmed.” The intensity in his eyes held the gentle rebuke of a friend, and his masculine presence nearly took her breath away.
She swallowed and looked down, struggling to regain some semblance of dignity. “I thank you, Major Grenville.” Her eyes stung, but she forbade tears to fall. “You have shown me nothing but kindness. I do trust you.” She inhaled yet another bracing breath and looked up at him again, this time with a teasing smile. “Shall we begin? After all, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Releasing his grip on her arms, he stepped back and chuckled, then laughed out loud, a most welcome sound. “Your brother told me about your family’s game. But let’s not play it, at least not today.” He took her elbow and led her to the horse’s head. “Miss Newfield, may I present Bella.” He ran a hand down the creature’s nose. “Bella, this is Miss Newfield,” he murmured as he took Anna’s gloved hand and guided it down the creature’s nose. “Unlike poor Miss Peel, she is not the least bit nervous.”
“You should not lie to her.” Anna’s voice wavered, but whether it was from the touch of the major’s hand on hers or his deep, soothing tone, she could not tell.
Again he chuckled, and a shiver, not at all displeasing, swept over her. She mentally shook it off. Why should this man’s presence have such a disconcerting effect on her? Why did his smiles mean so much to her? She must dismiss all these thoughts, including her sympathies for Lady Greystone’s late companion, and remember Peter’s fearless determination to ride so he could become a dragoon.
Setting aside his cane, Major Grenville gripped Anna at the waist and lifted her into the saddle. With every care for propriety’s sake, he settled her left shoe into the stirrup and helped her drape her right knee over the pommel. Pressing her foot into the stirrup, she rose slightly to adjust her seating, and the saddle dipped on that side. Anna dropped back with a gasp.
“It’s all right,” the major said. “The girth is firmly cinched. It won’t slip.” He gave her a reassuring smile such as one might give a child, then nodded to the groom.
The man clicked his tongue and tugged on the bridle. Bella lurched forward. Or so it seemed to Anna. She grabbed for the front edge of the saddle.
“Easy.” The major walked along beside her, cane in one hand and his other hand stretched out toward her, should she need it. “If you must hold on, you can grip her mane. Try to sit straight and balance your spine over hers. Keep your eyes straight ahead.”
Anna followed his instructions and soon was able to sit without holding on for a few seconds at a time. They walked around the circle drive in front of the manor house, and she found herself moving comfortably with Bella’s walking gait. Her confidence grew, probably because of Major Grenville’s presence. Well into the second time around, she ventured a sidelong glance at him.
“Have you taught many people how to ride?”
“A few young dragoons who’d not had the advantage of learning at home.” He grimaced, and she guessed his injured leg was giving him pain. Yet he made no complaint. “You’re doing very well.”
Pleased at his compliment, she relaxed into the saddle. “If that is so, it is your doing.”
“Nonsense.” He used his mother’s favorite word, but without the sharpness the viscountess employed. “Riding is in your blood. Newfield was the best rider of all my officers, some of whom had ridden all their lives.”
“Peter has always been fearless.” Anna refused to speak of her brother as though he were dead, despite the shadow that passed over the major’s handsome face.
“Indeed. Fearless describes him well.”
They fell silent as they continued their walk, and Anna grew more and more comfortable on Bella’s back. She lost count of how many times they circled the great fountain in the center of the drive. She imagined the structure would be quite lovely in the spring and summer, when water flowed from the marble pitchers held by four dainty Grecian maidens in marble gowns. She prayed she would still reside at Greystone Lodge to see it. And although she wished the major a speedy recovery, she hoped he would still be here then, too. Like her father and brother, he made her believe she could do something that frightened her beyond reason. And he was right.
* * *
After spending the morning with Miss Newfield, Edmond experienced a satisfaction unlike any he could recall. She was nothing like the young ladies he had observed in London, the girls who simpered and giggled and posed in their pretty frocks while trying to ensnare some unattached peer or heir. The same young misses had turned their backs when he approached because he was a younger son lacking both title and fortune. He could not imagine any of those giddy girls facing a challenge as admirably as Miss Newfield. Although she had been afraid, she had not only faced her fears but done it with good humor, just as her heroic brother might have done. Her insistence upon giving him the credit for their successful lesson soothed a hidden wound in his soul.
To his relief, he observed that Miss Newfield did not wilt under Mother’s scorching rule, which had been his concern from the moment he invited her to Greystone Lodge. Thus he could not regret bringing her here,
