A Curious Courting (5 page)

Horrified by her cousin’s foolhardiness, Selina nonetheless remained mute. This was no time to distract his attention from his driving. Besides, the pace he had set caused the icy wind to nearly take her breath away, and she found it difficult to keep her eyes open. How dare those fools accept Henry’s challenge? It was all very well for them on the road, another matter entirely gliding over hidden precipices. At a reasonable pace the horses could be expected to manage any ordinary difficulty, but at this speed it would be upon them before they had a chance to adjust.

As the riders approached the entrance gates to Shalbrook, and Henry faced the walls lining the drive, Selina experienced a moment of panic. But Henry merely waved his whip gleefully toward the manor house and expertly turned the horses’ heads in that direction. After a moment he glanced back to see whether the riders had taken his meaning and, reassured, urged his team to even greater efforts. Selina clung to the side of the sledge, her booted feet braced to support her in the event of an accident. This had no appreciable effect when they did in fact suffer the inevitable.

One of the sledge runners encountered a rock hidden beneath the drifts and the sledge swung crazily out of control, smacking against the wall and dislodging its occupants. The horses shuddered to a halt a short distance away, and Selina picked herself up unharmed but covered from head to foot with snow. Her anxious gaze quickly swung around to where her cousin lay.

“Henry! Oh, dear God.” In an instant she was at his side and attempting to turn him over when he quite calmly stood up, brushing the snow from his driving coat. “Are you all right?”

“Never better, my love,” he responded cheerfully.

Selina’s eyes flared with anger. “How dare you do such a stupid thing? Don’t you know you could have killed us? Have you no regard for my horses?”

Shocked by her fury, Henry could only open his mouth to protest, “Now, Selina.”

“No, not a word! There is nothing you can possibly say to excuse yourself. You are to go to your room instantly and stay there until I come to speak with you.”

“But the horses,” he began.

“Now
, you would think of the horses,” she rasped. “
I
will take care of the horses;
you
may sit in your room and consider your folly. Be off with you.”

Henry had never before seen his cousin anything but mildly irritated, and he had no idea that her current violent emotions were occasioned by profound relief at his safety. When he looked up to see that Sir Penrith had been an auditor to this humiliating scene, he flushed to the roots of his lank brown hair, bowed stiffly to his cousin, and trudged off toward the house, his limp more pronounced than usual. For a moment Selina felt choked with remorse, and anxiety that he was indeed hurt, as the exaggerated limp would seem to indicate, but she would not call him back. She had not, after all, said anything that was not true, and this might be a lesson to him. Her throat ached with the struggle to suppress kinder words, and she turned to Sir Penrith flushed with anger.

“And you and your friend are no better, Sir Penrith! If you haven’t a care for yourselves, could you not have some mercy on your horses?”

“But, Selina. . . Miss Easterly-Cummings, the hunters are used to such a run. Trained for it, you know,” he murmured.

“Well, my pair is not trained for a run over snow-covered fields. You should not have accepted Henry’s challenge. Why is it that men can never resist such an invitation? Have you no sense of responsibility? To encourage a child in such folly…”

“Your horses are unharmed,” Mr. Rushton informed her calmly as he came up to join them.

“No thanks to any of you,” came the bitter reply. She stretched her hand out toward the wall to steady herself, suddenly spent by the emotions she had sped through in the last few minutes. Her knees felt curiously weak, and she was grateful for the strong hand which grasped her arm.

“Take the sledge around to the stables, will you, Pen? I’ll see Miss Easterly-Cummings to the house.”

Mr. Rushton considered the possibility of carrying her, but decided that she would not care for such cavalier treatment, even in her present condition. Instead he encircled her waist and guided her uncertain footsteps toward the building. “Have you taken some hurt from your fall, Miss Easterly-Cummings?”

“No, none.” Although Selina would have liked to disclaim the need for his support, her legs would not obey her orders to carry her as they usually did. She was very aware of his arm about her, of his closeness and his strength and most especially of the blue eyes studying her face. The thick black brows were lowered, and not in concern but, as it seemed to her, disapproval. The distance to the house was not far, though she felt it an eternity before they reached it.

Rushton said nothing further until the butler responded to his knock and then he ordered, “Send for Miss Easterly-Cummings’ maid. Your mistress will need to lie down for a while.”

With a surprised glance at Selina, McDonough did as he was bid while Rushton methodically divested her of the soaking scarves, cloak and gloves she wore. Selina stood unprotesting as he chafed her hands, but she would not meet his eyes. As the alarmed maid hastened across the hall toward them she abruptly withdrew her hands and turned. “Alice, we have taken a tumble from the sledge. If you would come with me, please...”

Expressionlessly she faced Rushton again. “I must thank you for your assistance, sir. If you will excuse me...”

“Of course.” When he had watched her ascend the stone staircase without any assistance from her maid, he retrieved his beaver hat from the table where he had flung it and allowed McDonough to hold the door for him. Outside he found Sir Penrith just ascending the stairs. “I think she will be all right, but she’s in no condition to talk about the vale. After this, I doubt I shall make any headway about purchasing the land at all. Lord, but she’s a termagant!”

“Nonsense,” Penrith snorted. “She’d just been given a nasty spill. What did you expect?”

“I hardly expected her to rake the young cub over the coals that way. She would have done justice to my
father,
and he was an expert at ringing a rare peal over one’s head. Doesn’t she like the boy?”

“Didn’t your father like you? Of course she likes the boy! You’d understand better if you’d watched your mother raise a parcel of younger children, like I did. Pity you’re an only child, Gareth.” Penrith stomped his boots on the lowest stair to rid them of the clinging snow.

“I have not the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.” Penrith studied his friend’s scowling face for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. “I remember a time when Cassandra was a child, maybe six or seven. She had found a half-crown near the flower border and in her excitement to show it to m’ mother she dashed across the drive without looking, and right in the path of my horse. Very nearly snuffed her, I did—might have, if I hadn’t been on Trooper—and my mother’s face went white with horror. Thing is, as soon as Mother saw there was no harm done, she lost her temper. With Cassandra, with me, though God knows it wasn’t my fault. It was just a way of venting her emotions. Loves us, you know, and it scared the devil out of her to see such a near thing. Parents are like that.”

“Miss Easterly-Cummings is not the boy’s mother.”

Penrith regarded him disgustedly. “Oh, never mind. If you don’t want to understand, I can’t make you.”

After a warm bath, Selina felt much better physically, though her emotions were still tumultuous. A trace of fear remained, and even some anger, but uppermost was embarrassment. She was not accustomed to making scenes, or hurting people’s feelings, or misdirecting blame. As she toweled her hair dry, she mentally composed a note to Sir Penrith apologizing for her hasty words. There was no reason he should take responsibility for her cousin’s actions. Really, only Henry was to blame for the whole episode. But no, she could not excuse herself so lightly. The boy had been in her care for five years and surely it was her duty to instill in him some sense of caution, some care for his own neck and for those of others.

But she
had
done so, she thought desperately as she tossed the scarlet shawl about her shoulders. Ordinarily Henry was a reasonable, thoughtful young man, polite and good-humored, accommodating to the utmost. Studious and gentle, yet high-spirited as well, she was inordinately fond of him and thought of him as her brother. There must be some dividing line between indulging in riotous spirits and doing something downright dangerous. How was she to teach him that, if he didn’t know it instinctively?

Her tap at his door was hesitantly answered, and she entered to find him seated by the window. He rose but did not come to her, his face a polite mask. That in itself was unusual, for he was too unaccustomed to hiding his feelings to have much experience at it. Selina silently seated herself on the sofa and gestured for him to join her there, which he did with a formality foreign to their relationship.

“First, Henry, I should like to apologize for scolding you in front of Sir Penrith. I had forgotten his presence, in the heat of the moment, or I might have put a curb on my tongue. As to the rest. . . I feel no differently now than I did then. I can understand your desire to race the horses, but not the foolhardiness of the way you went about it. We could have checked out a course for obstacles, and then gone about it properly. You had no way of knowing what the drifts of snow covered— rocks, holes, bushes, any number of things which might have caused an accident. The horses are unharmed, but not through any care of yours. How would you have felt had one broken a leg? They are dumb beasts, Henry, and cannot complain of our treatment of them. You are not generally so careless about such matters.”

His face still unreadable, he kept his eyes firmly locked on the mantel when he replied. “I am quite familiar with that field. I could remember no hazards.”

“I was not aware of any, either, Henry, and yet we encountered one, as I felt sure we must. Can’t you see how different it is riding about when everything is open to your view, and riding like a maniac over snow-obscured ground? What you could easily skirt on horseback in the light of summer, you can’t even know exists in such conditions.” Selina felt she was pleading with him to understand her, and yet there was no softening of the frozen face.

“I am sorry if I drove recklessly,” he replied stiffly, “and I had no intention of endangering you or your horses.

“Ah, I see,” Selina murmured as she possessed herself of his hand. “Look at me, please, Henry.”

He reluctantly lowered his eyes to her face and she squeezed his hand. “Nothing is more precious to me than you, Henry. I can’t say that I do not care about being killed myself, or having my horses ruined, but they pale in comparison with your own safety. When I saw you there in the snow, unmoving...” She bit her lip and tried to control the quaver in her voice. “Well, I could not bear it if anything happened to you.”

“You did not seem so very concerned. All you talked of was your precious horses.”

“But not until you had assured me that you were all right! I cannot bear the thought of your taking such chances with yourself.”

“And that is why you don’t want me to ride with the Quorn? So that you won’t be inconvenienced if I should injure myself?”

“Inconvenienced!” Selina jumped to her feet and stamped a foot on the floor. “You put me out of all patience, Henry. I am telling you that it would break my heart if anything happened to you, and all you can understand is that I am a cautious old fuddy who stands in your way to having fun.”

“Well, that’s really what it amounts to, isn’t it, Selina?” he asked stubbornly. “If I break my neck,
I
certainly am not going to be the one to suffer. I shall be dead.”

“How can you talk that way? What has gotten into you these last weeks?” Her face was white and she drew a shaking hand across her eyes.

“I am no longer a child, Selina. I am tired of studying Lucian and Virgil, of composing Latin verses, of memorizing Greek grammar. Even geography is a great trial when it is only the dull facts one studies. Personally, I can see no relevance to any of it! What do you want of me? Are you preparing me to study law, or to take orders? Perhaps to sit for Parliament? Am I to have no say in what I do with my life?”

Bewildered, Selina could only stare at him for a moment. “But, Henry, your studies are to prepare you for university. Your guardian is desirous that you go there. I have no say in the matter.”

“Lord Leyburn has never consulted my wishes. How does he know that I even want to go to university? And what does he care? You are all smothering me with your own good intentions, but no one ever asks me what I want to do.” He began to pace up and down the room, his hands clenched at his sides. “It is five years until I come into my inheritance. My God, five years, Selina! For the next five years am I to do what everyone else wants me to do? Am I to be given a pittance of an allowance and kept on leading-strings? Am I to meekly say, ‘Yes, sir, if you wish me to study law, I shall do so.’ Do you realize that I cannot even remember Lord Leyburn, Selina? How many years is it since he has even bothered to come and see me? Three, four? All he wants is for me to kick up no fuss, put him to no bother. Why should I allow my life to be directed by such a man?”

“He is your guardian. He stands in place of your father,” she whispered.

“No one stands in place of my father, and certainly not Lord Leyburn. Once a quarter I get a note from him, written in the language one might use for a twelve-year-old, instructing me to use my allowance with care and to study diligently. Damnation! I won’t stand for it!”

Selina dropped onto a chair and followed his restless pacing with her concerned eyes. “What is it you want, Henry?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” he wailed. “But I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to be hedged about on every side, to be forced to follow the dictates of his lordship when he cannot even be bothered to come and see me once a year. Is that asking too much?”