Happily Ever Afters Guaranteed (15 page)

Carefully, I twisted and tugged the dog’s
leg, while Andrew held him immobile. It took a few minutes, and
finally, with a muffled pop, the leg slid back into place.
Triumphant, I lifted my eyes to Andrew’s, amazed when he responded
with a smile. It changed his whole face, softening the lines around
his shapely mouth.

“All right, Simon,” I said softly. “On three.
One, two, three.” He gave me a mighty pull on my waist. Afterward,
I guided him back to his dog with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“He’ll probably be tired for a while. And you’ll need to watch him
closely for the next few days. Make sure he doesn’t run too much or
jump around and hurt himself again.”

The boy nodded gravely. He wiped his sleeve
across his face, smearing the tears and dirt that darkened his
skin.

Now that our task was complete, I began to
notice the kitchen’s activity going on all around us. Servants
hustled food out of the room, probably going to the dining room. My
own stomach growled, reminding me that I’d missed luncheon as well.
It was too late to get dressed and make it down for the evening
meal. Plus, there was the issue of what to do with Simon. I
couldn’t just leave him to walk home.

Andrew apparently had the same thought.
“Let’s see if cook can spare some food for us.”

Of course she could, and she set us up with
three steaming plates at a small table in a corner of the room.
Before Andrew joined us, I heard him ask her in a low voice to
prepare something to send to Simon’s family. Our eyes locked above
the boy’s head and I lowered my gaze, ashamed to be caught
eavesdropping. Andrew’s kindness warmed me from the inside out.
Even more than coming into the kitchen from outdoors.

Until I remembered that he hadn’t wanted to
help Minnie and me because of the scandals.

Thoughts of my secret plan ran through my
head. I’d nearly forgotten about it with Andrew's helpfulness and
the way he’d looked at me over Simon’s dog. But the reminder made
me feel cold and numb. I didn’t look up for the rest of the meal
that we shared in silence.

###

It took three days for the rest of my plan to
work out. Three days in which I noticed every aching moment that
Andrew came near.

He played cards with the group in the
evenings, and our hands tangled over the deck. Sparks shot up my
arm.

Our eyes met across the breakfast table, his
shining with warmth.

One evening as Tristan regaled us with tales
from their childhoods, I memorized Andrew’s laugh, a low delicious
chuckle that felt like a good piece of dark chocolate.

I finally resorted to escaping the room just
before or after he entered. Each interaction made me want to like
him.

And I couldn’t afford to like him, not with
the way he felt about my sister and I.

At last, a sunny morning dawned and I
convinced Anna and Ella to come riding. After saddling up, we
quickly overtook Andrew and Tristan, just as planned.

Andrew rode with elegant grace, a natural
horseman. I noticed his hands as they clasped the reins and folded
over one leg, relaxed. The memory of how his hands had felt in mine
– large and powerful and gentle at the same time – flashed through
my mind. I pushed it away, unwilling to be distracted from my
purpose.

I drew my gaze away from Andrew with an
effort and surveyed the scenery. Yes, this was the landscape I
remembered from my previous ride. If I turned my head, I could see
the spire of the church, about a half mile away. A haze covered the
moors this morning, as the sun burned off the dampness from the
previous few days. I took a deep breath of the fresh, wet air,
while I tried to bolster my courage.

The men put up with our feminine chattering
for a few minutes but soon it looked as if they wanted to be rid of
us. Now or never.

“Mr. Howarth,” I waited until he looked at
me. Unfortunately, so did the whole group. Heat slid into my
face.

“What a nice morning for a race. Don't you
think?”

A flash of surprise crossed his face before
he quickly masked it. “That sounds a bit like a challenge, Miss
Briggs.”

“It was intended to be.”

His eyes narrowed, the only sign that my
words affected him. “I'm afraid I do not race with members of the
fairer sex.”

“Maybe you could humor me, just this once.”
My stallion sidestepped, as if sensing the waves of tension
churning between us. My chin rose. “Of course, if you're afraid of
losing to a girl…”

His jaw flexed. He reined his gelding around
until we were face to face and I almost shrank from the fire
flashing in his eyes. For a brief moment no one else existed, only
Andrew and I and the connection that we shared.

He broke the stare first and glanced off to
the distance. “I would not wish to embarrass a guest or a dear
niece of a family friend.”

He faced the direction we would be starting
from, and I did not. I forced my face to remain neutral, not to
reveal my anticipation. Everything was falling into place. “I won’t
be embarrassed when I win.”

His eyes flashed again. “Name the
course.”

Yes! I jutted my chin toward my right
shoulder. “To the church.” Belvidere shook his head, the reins
pulling against my hand. He was ready to go. I patted his neck and
willed him to wait just a moment more.

“Would you care to make a wager?”

Oooh. Not in the plan. But interesting. What
would cause Andrew the most harm when I won? My mind flew over the
conversations Anna and I had shared in the last few days, trying to
think of something that would humiliate him. “Your terms?”

“A kiss.”

My stomach reacted first, dropping to my
knees. What? A gasp from one of the girls reminded me that we
weren’t alone. I didn’t look away from Andrew, pride reminding me
of my purpose. “Agreed.” Was that my voice?

“And if you win?” He looked so sure of
himself, so arrogant, that I ached to show him up. This was going
to be fun.

“A dance!” I didn’t wait to see the surprise
on his face before wheeling my stallion around with a nudge to his
side.

We passed close to Andrew’s gelding and the
hem of my skirt flipped up in the stiff breeze. I allowed it to
flutter loose and was rewarded when Andrew's gelding whinnied and
reared.

The stallion needed no more urging to take
off in a smooth gallop. I entertained a momentary hope that Andrew
had been unseated, but when I heard a strong “hyah!” from behind, I
knew the race was on.

I didn’t glance back. If I got off balance I
probably wouldn’t be able to right myself and would slip off the
horse. At this speed, I’d probably break something if I fell.

The moor slipped by in a blur of green
beneath me. Cool wind burned my cheeks and whipped my hair from its
bun until it flew loose behind me. I leaned close to the stallion’s
neck, trying to give us the least wind resistance possible. Moving
as one, we cleared the first stone hurdle with ease. Then the
second.

Time slowed. This was my moment. My race.

We passed the halfway mark, a low ditch,
still in the lead.

Drops of foam from Belvidere’s chest
splattered me in the face. Joy and exhilaration bubbled up, and I
laughed aloud. We were going to make it!

The last hurdle appeared. Before we jumped
it, I caught sight of Andrew at my elbow. I only saw his face for a
split-second, but I’d probably never forget the intense
concentration that twisted his features. How had he gotten so
close?

“Hah!” I urged the stallion with both my
voice and my leg. Did he have anything left for the last rise to
the church? To my surprise, he sped up. It wasn’t a lot, but it was
enough, because we burst onto the top of the hill and slid to a
stop right before the church. Ahead of Andrew.

I wheeled the stallion around, triumph and
pride lilting my voice. “I won.”

“You cheated.”

What? “I did not.” A little maneuvering
couldn't be counted as cheating.

He was closer than I thought, near enough to
grab my upper arm and hold me in place. I tried to pull away but
his hand was like an iron band.

“Let go.” I hated that my voice had gone soft
and breathy. Hated that I couldn’t stop my reaction to his
nearness.

His eyes roved my face. His face was flushed
and his hair wind-ruffled. “You cheated, and I will claim my prize.
Now.”

My stomach quivered as he leaned closer. He
still held my arm, though I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to – my
limbs were tingly and numb. My traitorous lips parted, waiting for
his kiss, hoping for it.

His eyes darkened, the pupils dilating.
“Mattie,” he murmured, his breath hitting my cheek.

I stopped breathing, and closed my eyes.

And remembered that he only claimed the kiss
out of anger, and pride.

An image of Jared came to me, unbidden. The
memory of his betrayal hit me like a blow in the face. My eyes flew
open and Andrew was so close that I could see the individual
whiskers that made up the stubble on his face. His eyes were at
half mast and he intended to do it – kiss me.

Not like this! Panic sent my heart beating
against my ribcage.

“Andrew—Let me go.” My voice broke on the
words. Finding a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pulled my
arm from his grasp. Without looking back to see his reaction, I
kicked the stallion into a canter and rode for the stable.

Chapter 7

Being ignored by Andrew was infinitely worse
than trying to avoid him. It took all the willpower I owned to ride
across from him in the carriage, dressed in his Sunday finery, and
keep my gaze out the window. Most of all, I was powerless to stop
the feelings for Andrew that had burst into life since the day of
the race.

If only I could find a way to get back to the
twenty-first century. I’d searched through several tomes in the
Howarth’s library, but found nothing helpful. Hope dimmed with each
day I spent here. It had already been three weeks.

Maybe Andrew’s ire was for the best. If he
continued to focus on his anger and smarting pride, maybe he
wouldn’t notice my muddled feelings.

Each time his ice blue gaze sliced over me, I
bit back the urge to apologize. After all, I didn’t have anything
to be sorry for. He’d agreed to the race. It wasn’t my fault the
wind had kicked up my skirt and spooked his horse.

It was my fault that I was falling in love
again, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I noticed everything about
Andrew. His strength, the gentleness he’d shown Simon when he’d
helped me with the little dog, his relationship with his sisters.
All of it drew me, even though I wanted to ignore it. I didn’t want
to be hurt again.

And it seemed there was no way Andrew would
be interested in me now that I'd damaged his pride.

I tried to focus in on the conversation
Tristan carried on with Minerva, but couldn’t find the will to
participate. Instead, I watched the landscape passing by the
window. Andrew, with his stony glare and crossed arms, didn’t enter
into the conversation either.

Our carriage followed another that carried
the rest of the Howarth family. We rolled to a stop before the
village church long before I’d steeled myself to enter it.

Tristan handed me out of the carriage before
turning to escort Minerva inside. I followed behind them, Andrew
beside me. He did not offer me his arm.

Morning sunlight shone through the stained
glass windows inside the sanctuary. I was surprised by its plain
wooden pews and pulpit. They certainly didn't match the ornate ones
I pictured when I thought “old English church.”

The cacophony of voices raised in
congregational singing was also a surprise. The hymns were all new
to me, and nothing like the contemporary songs I loved from my
church back home in Oklahoma. Good thing I was an auditory learner.
Andrew’s baritone from the pew behind me sent shivers down my
spine.

A man in a dark jacket and starched white
shirt stood up and began to speak. The first words out of his mouth
had to do with forgiveness, and I tuned out in the same
instant.

Logically, I knew I needed to face my
bitterness toward Jared and Hannah. Sooner or later. Emotionally, I
chose later.

Instead, I glanced around the room, admiring
the costumes of the people who made up this small church. Some
simple, some gaudy. Just like my church at home.

A pinch from Minerva brought my wandering
attention back to our pew. “Pay attention,” she hissed.

With a frown, I pretended to do just that.
But I didn't.

###

After the service, Minnie and I stood near
Tristan and Andrew in the sunshine as the carriages were
fetched.

Anna and Ella visited with a gaggle of other
young ladies, but Minnie and I spoke to no one.

“Andrew, you must introduce me to the
charming young ladies accompanying you.”

A male voice spoke loud enough that I knew he
intended Minerva and I to hear him. I resisted the urge to glance
back at the men, instead focusing on Minerva, who'd gone pale.

Andrew spoke in a low voice so that I missed
the first part of his reply. “—they are guests of my family.”

Nearby laughter from the group of girls
overpowered the men’s voices. When the girls quieted, Andrew was
still speaking. “—a terrible scandal. I believe the younger Miss
Briggs came upon her sister in a compromising situation with her
betrothed. Needless to say, the engagement was broken.”

I must have gasped audibly, because several
of the girls nearby turned and looked at me, including Anna and
Ella. But I couldn't feel their gazes.

Only Andrew's. His eyes skewered me with a
hard, triumphant gaze. For a moment, I couldn’t think, couldn’t
move. I turned away from him and my eyes found Minerva, who was
whiter than her dress. The look on her face told all – Andrew spoke
the truth. She'd betrayed me.