Glamorous Illusions (18 page)

CHAPTER 20

~William~

With the group weary of history, art, politics, and religion, Will's uncle wisely prescribed an afternoon in the countryside, hiring mounts at a stable and taking the rest of the day in a beautiful park. But then, complaining of his rheumatism, Uncle Stuart had left the picnic and ride in “Will's capable hands.” Will groaned when he found out, but their young clients had donned riding costumes and assembled in order. A groomsman led the way down a pebble path, while Will and Antonio brought up the rear of their group. All appeared to be in order.
Exquisite order
, Will thought, chastising himself for allowing his eyes to wander over the slim legs and curves of the young women ahead of them, particularly Cora's.

It didn't help that Antonio nudged him and gestured with his chin at what Will had already noticed. Righteous indignation ran through him, with a quick shot of shame following close behind. “Mind your manners, man,” he growled, saying to Antonio what he was telling himself. Antonio's black eyes widened in surprise at his gruff answer, and then his face eased into a knowing smile.

Perhaps women were best served to always be in gowns, Will thought. Bathing suits and jodhpurs only led a man's mind to wander.

They reached the stables and entered the building where the mounts were saddled and ready. With relief, Will and Antonio set down the heavy baskets carrying a picnic the maids at the cottage had packed for them.

Will watched the stable hands help the women mount, feeling tension waft through him, especially as a man placed Cora's boot in a stirrup, his hand lingering on her calf. She was paying no attention, however, her eyes going to Vivian again and again. He knew they had had some sort of exchange the day before in the Parliament building. He didn't know what it was about—only that, ever since, Cora had stayed on the opposite side of the group from Vivian.

He gazed around. The stables advertised that they only had the finest mounts for hire, which was what drew his attention yesterday when he'd been organizing the expedition. But that meant the horses were high-spirited, and three were struggling for control—Vivian's, Cora's, and Hugh's.

He neared Vivian. “Perhaps we can ask them for a more genteel mount.”

She lifted her nose in the air. “Please, William, tell me you're joking. I've been riding since I was old enough to walk.”

He suppressed a sigh and turned toward Cora as her mare pranced sideways. “Cora? Would you like a different mount?”

“No. She'll settle down,” Cora said, stroking the mare's neck and looking again in Vivian's direction. Was pride holding her back too?

He looked toward Hugh, but the man was already trotting off beside Felix, his back to him. Will knew he wouldn't appreciate the question.

Antonio, an expert horseman, pulled up beside him as Will mounted. “Want me to watch the young women while you attend Hugh?”

Will scowled at him. “You attend Hugh.
I'll
watch over the women.”

Antonio laughed and gave him a shrug. “
Bocca al lupo
.”
Best of luck.
He rode up to Hugh and Felix, and the younger girls joined them.

“If we get separated, we'll meet at the hill beside the covered bridge,” Will called after him.

Antonio laughed again and nodded toward Vivian's horse, which was taking off in fits and starts. She wheeled around in a sudden circle, frowning.

“
If
?”

Will smiled with Antonio then. “All right,
when
.” Vivian was watching Cora take her mare in a tight circle. Vivian dug her heels into her own mount's flanks, edging nearer Cora.

Even from fifty feet away, he could hear the young woman ask, “Did you ever have a proper lesson?”

Cora's eyes were steady as she looked at her half sister. “My
father
taught me. Did yours?”

“Of course not,” Vivian huffed. “We had a proper riding instructor.”

Will nudged his horse toward the women, knowing he needed to stop their competition, and fast.

“Let's head out,” Will called.

Antonio moved toward a trail, all but Cora and Vivian behind him.

“Where are we going, Will?” Cora asked.

“To the old covered bridge.”

“How far is it?”

“A couple of miles,” he said. “But we'll be—”

“How do you get there?” Vivian interrupted, looking from Cora to him.

“I will show you the way.” Where was Andrew? Ahead with the others?

“That's just it,” Vivian said, her face flushed with excitement. “We don't wish you to lead. My
sister
is challenging me to a race.”

Cora's eyes moved from Vivian to him. She didn't deny it.

“Now see here,” Will said. “You are on unfamiliar mounts. It would be most unwise—”

The women turned from him as a pair of gentlemen moved in from the opposite direction.

“Pardon me, sirs,” Cora called. “Can you kindly point us in the direction of the old covered bridge?”

“Certainly,” one of the men returned with a touch to the brim of his hat. He paused to look Cora and Vivian over in appreciation. “It's over that ridge right there,” he said, pointing up and to the left.

Will groaned as Cora caught Vivian's eye, smiled, and then kicked her horse into a full gallop. Vivian was right behind her.

“No, no!” he cried. But they ignored him, already racing up a wide, grassy hill. The gentlemen hooted and cheered them on. If he'd had time, Will would've taken pleasure in pummeling his fist into each man's face for his foolishness, but he was too busy pursuing the young women.

He pounded up the hill after them, already chagrined at the distance they had gained. His heart was in his throat as Vivian's mare jumped a log, but the woman seemed to gain confidence as her mount came down on the other side and found its pace again. Cora went wide, disappearing behind a stand of oak trees, then reappearing slightly ahead of Vivian.

They crested the ridge, out of sight again. Will lowered his head and urged his mount to go faster. He had to catch up to them, somehow rein them in. He had to. If any harm came to either of them, Mr. Kensington and his uncle would have his hide.

CHAPTER 21

~Cora~

I didn't know what had gotten into me. Only that there was no way I would allow Vivian to beat me. I'd reach the old covered bridge first if I had to jump over Vivian's mare to get there.

I knew it was foolish to push my mount so on unfamiliar roads, but I felt exhilarated in the challenge, the release of letting go all my pent-up emotions and frustrations and pouring them into the moment. And if I could beat her, arrive there first, perhaps she'd begin to treat me with a modicum of respect. Perhaps we would be able to find our footing at last and the summer wouldn't stretch before me as one long, exhausting challenge.

She was behind me, but then she cut off at a
Y
in the road. I frowned. Where was she going? Was it a shortcut? My eyes scanned the road below, and I glimpsed not only the bridge but a place where her path would likely rejoin mine. Movement caught my attention to my left, and with chagrin I saw Will closing in, determination etched into every bit of his handsome face. He'd stop me if he could. It was his job to stop us. But for the first time on this whole journey, I knew that I was fully in charge of my own actions.

I leaned lower in the saddle, my horse's mane tickling my nose, and after a few moments, it was almost as if I could hear nothing but my own breathing, the squeaking of the leather, the heavy hoofbeats striking dirt and rock.

I glimpsed Vivian's purple coat through the trees. She would soon rejoin my road. I had to be ahead of her. Sure enough, she came alongside me, just a half pace behind.

“Cora! Vivian!” Will shouted. “Stop this! Now!”

I looked back at Vivian, wondering if she was ready to give in, give up, grant me victory. But she kept her eyes on the road, still determined to overtake me. And her determination fed my own. I squeezed my horse's flanks with my heels and held on, trying to match her pace with my movements, make it easier for my mount to carry me.

Papa had taught me to ride, and ride fast. He was no proper equestrian, but I'd show Vivian that didn't matter. That I could compete, win, regardless of where I'd been trained. I remembered the first time I could truly race Papa with the hope of beating him, and the surprise and delight on his face. His look of frustration. And then pride.
Oh, Papa
, I thought.
How I miss you.

Vivian was surging ahead of me as I emerged from my reverie. Frowning, I renewed my efforts, but then her horse pulled up, apparently spooked by a darkly shadowed stand of trees we were passing. She whipped her mount to the other side of me, concentrating on coming up that way. She was quick; I'd grant her that. And I had to admire her spunk.

The forest began to gather on either side of the road, closing in, and I hoped it would give Vivian's mount pause. We raced into the shadows, and I welcomed the cooler air after sweating under the hot sun. But it was harder to see. Reluctantly, I pulled up slightly on the reins. Vivian quickly took the lead. We rounded a corner, her horse going wide, edging into some bramble and slowing, letting me ahead again.

I saw that the forest was clearing, and the path glowed like a trophy before me. But a huge log lay in our way as we left the trees. Vivian cast me a sly smile, obviously confident in her mare's ability to leap over it as she'd done before. I frowned. I'd jumped small creeks and stones, but never anything as large as the log. Still, nothing could make me give up. Nothing.

We were shoulder to shoulder, each concentrating on the log ahead, when our horses slowed, so neatly timed it was as if they were yoked together. I felt the forward momentum, desperately tried to hold on with my legs, but the force was too much. As the horse came to a lurching stop, I went flying over her head, grasping hold of the reins and her mane as if that would somehow correct what I knew in my gut was destined to end poorly.

I held my breath as I fell, waiting for impact, but instead landed in a pool of water, somersaulting so far that I skidded across the surface on my belly before sinking. I flailed around, trying to get my head up and gather a breath of air, gasping. It took a moment for me to realize Vivian was in the water with me, crying out, her brown hair covering her face in a soggy mat. I reached out and pulled her closer, since I was nearer the far bank, able to touch, but she whipped her arm away.

“Vivian,” I gasped. “Over here. You can touch here.”

She let out a sound of such exasperation and rage, I took a step back, suddenly wanting her anywhere but near me. She sounded catlike, ready to lash out.

But she relented and swam toward me until we could stand chest deep. We looked up as Will arrived, his face sweating and ashen.

“We're all right,” I said, raising a hand to him, still gasping for breath. “Wet, but fine.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vivian spat, pushing her hair aside. She trudged past me in the water. “Honestly, Cora. I can't believe I allowed you to suck me into such a mad race.”

“Ah, of course,” I said. “It's my fault.”

“Of course.” She tossed over her shoulder. “It certainly was not mine.”

I giggled then. “Oh, no. Certainly not. I dragged you into that race. It was almost as if I had your mare tethered to mine.”

She paused and looked at me. “You should have given up much sooner. Anyone could see I was the more experienced equestrian.”

“No. You should have, but your pride wouldn't allow it. Not when it was I—a girl who learned how to ride on a swaybacked old nag—who was in the lead.”

“That was not it at all.”

“I think it was.” I trudged up the bank, faltering when I felt the soggy ground give way. I slipped and fell to my knees.

Vivian looked back at me with glee in her eyes but then immediately slipped in the mud herself, landing back in the water with a big splash.

I moved ahead, determined now to beat her up the bank, if nothing else. But the edge was steep and hopelessly slippery. It seemed to be more oil than mud. My hands sunk into the muck just below the surface. I wrenched a stuck boot from where the bottom sucked at me and felt my other boot begin to sink too. I tried to step forward but stumbled, landing back in the muddy water. It splashed over and onto Vivian, who cried out.

I looked her way and laughed. Her face and purple coat were layered with grime, as were mine. She looked back at me with outrage, but then she paused. A smile split her face too as she laughed. It made me laugh harder, hearing her, and together we dissolved into giggles, our merriment so fierce we began to slip down the bank again.

“Cora,” Will said, somehow now on our side of the pool, reaching for me.

Still giggling, I tried to wash off my hand in the dark water, then reached for his, grabbing hold of his wrist as he did mine. With one powerful move, he hauled me up the bank and deposited me on the long green grasses. Then he did the same with Vivian. Together, we sat and panted for breath as Will hovered over us, pacing, hands on hips, seething in anger.

“You two…” he said, finding his voice, shaking his finger at us, “could've been killed.”

“But we weren't,” Vivian said, shaking her head.

“You've dishonored me as a guide and ruined our afternoon plans.”

“Oh, Will,” I muttered, “this was hardly about you.”

Vivian caught my gaze, and after a hesitation, she gave me a small smile. She looked down at herself, hands splayed, and shook her head. “My goodness. We're quite a mess.”

“Quite,” I said, looking down at my elegant riding suit. It would never be the same. I'd never worn anything near as fine for an afternoon ride, and I'd gone and ruined it, all on account of my pride. But I couldn't help but think that it had been worth it. Sitting there, listening to Will lecture us on the dangers of racing—of knowing people who had been paralyzed from such falls as we had just taken—I felt the first bit of camaraderie, connection, with my half sister that I'd experienced in a while. And in that connection, I felt a smidgen of hope.

That hope faded as soon as we came into view of the others. They were gathered in a group, sitting about on blankets; Hugh and Antonio were stretched out as if sleeping in the sun. When they heard us, all heads turned in our direction. Andrew stood up, plainly alarmed, and went to Vivian to hold her horse still as she dismounted. Hugh and Felix laughed outright. The younger girls covered their mouths, giggling.

“What in heaven's name,” Hugh asked, still chuckling, “happened to you?”

“Cora drew me into an ill-conceived race,” Vivian said, taking a damp cloth napkin from Lillian and wiping her face. “Our horses stopped, and we kept going, straight into a filthy water hole.”

I suppressed a sigh, biting my lip.

“Needless to say,” she said, “we must head back at once to change.”

Will hovered near, a brooding guardian. He spoke at last. “It takes two to race, Vivian.”

“Indeed,” Andrew said, handing her a second wet napkin.

She pulled it from his hand angrily, clearly frustrated that he wasn't taking her side in the matter.

No one thought to offer me assistance. I didn't know why I cared that they seemed to not see me. Why I tried.

“So if you all will quickly finish your picnic, we'll be off,” Will said. “We need to get these two into dry clothes again before they catch a chill.”

I couldn't imagine how I'd catch a chill—it was a hot and humid afternoon, and while my riding clothes felt cloyingly sticky, at least they were cooler, wet.

Felix was goading Vivian to tell the story, and when she wouldn't, he turned to me.

I smiled at his glee and regaled them on how it had transpired. The girls giggled, and the boys hooted with laughter. All except for Andrew. He knew his place with Vivian and remained nothing but the attentive and concerned beau. But again, I felt the tiniest shift within the group, an inch of compassion, connection. And I drew encouragement from it.

When we returned to the cottage, I thought I'd never been wearier. Even compared to days I'd helped Papa with plowing or irrigating or seeding. Perhaps it had been the ride—and the subsequent fall—but every muscle in my back ached. So I sent my regrets via Anna that I wouldn't be attending the last dinner out and would instead remain home to rest.

I'd stepped out of the tub and slipped on a robe when I heard a tentative knock on the door. Thinking everyone would be gone by now, I glanced at the clock and then tiptoed over to the door. “Yes?”

“It's me, Cora,” said a low male voice. Will.

I opened it a few inches. “I…I thought you all had left.”

“We're about to go. Are you certain you do not wish to join us?” Concern weighed heavily around his eyes.

“I am.” I took a deep breath. “I just need some time to myself before we resume our journey. The others will be relieved to be free of my presence too.”

“You must not dodge them for the rest of the tour.”

“I'm not dodging.”

“Well, good then. Might you share a cup of tea with me when we return? I'd like to talk to you.”

“Perhaps,” I hedged. What did he want to say to me? What else was there to say?

“I'll knock softly,” he said. “If you are asleep, slumber on. But if you are awake, I'd appreciate a word.”

I forced a small smile to my face. “I'll come to the door if I'm awake.”

“Good.” He straightened and gave me a smile. Then he turned and walked away. I slowly shut the door and walked to the window, watching as several touring cars idled. One car door remained open, presumably for Will. He emerged from the cottage, climbed in, and the group departed.

No one looked my way. No one waved. Not that I'd really expected it. I'd wanted to remain behind. But when I got what I wanted, I found it…surprisingly empty.