Sally MacKenzie Bundle (163 page)

“I promise you, Rosebud is so placid, cannon fire couldn’t startle her.”

“It’d take a cannon to get that one movin’,” McGee muttered.

James raised his eyebrow and Sarah smiled. She turned back to Rosebud and carefully ran her hand down the horse’s neck. Rosebud turned and regarded her thoughtfully.

“She does have lovely eyes.”

“Let’s see how you like the view from the saddle.” James put his hands around her waist and lifted her up.

“Ereek!” She stared down at James. He kept his hands around her waist to steady her. She could feel the heat of his palms and each finger and thumb through his gloves and the thick fabric of her riding habit. He wasn’t even breathing hard, yet he had just lifted her from the ground, which looked from her new location to be very far away indeed.

She risked a look around. There were an amazing number of stable hands about, presumably to watch her first attempt at sitting on a horse. She cautiously straightened her spine and tested her balance.

“I’m just not accustomed to this, ah, angle on the world,” she said.

“Do you like it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Fair enough. I’m going to let go now. Do you think you can keep your seat?”

Sarah was not eager to lose the steadying influence of James’s hands, but she couldn’t look poor-spirited in front of her audience. “Certainly.”

James let go and stepped back. Sarah grabbed the edge of the saddle. James smiled.

“Well done. Here, take the reins. No, don’t clutch them; you’ll pull poor Rosebud’s mouth. Just hold them lightly and get used to the motion while I walk Rosebud down to the practice ring and around it a few times.”

Sarah nodded in what she hoped was a confident manner. James led Rosebud down a gentle incline. At the first step she grabbed the saddle again.
James won’t let you fall,
she told herself and released her death grip. She sat up straighter. By the time they had completed two circuits of the training ring, she felt secure in her balance.

“Okay?” James asked.

“Yes. I think I’m ready to try the next step.”

“Good!” James nodded to McGee and the groom brought over a huge brown horse. Sarah was glad she wasn’t required to sit on it.

“That isn’t the horse you had at the inn.”

“No, that was Newton. Pythagoras here is in semiretirement now, but he has excellent manners, don’t you, old man?” James patted the horse’s neck and Pythagoras nodded as if in agreement. “He’s more willing than Newton to move at a sedate pace, and he and Rosebud get along well.”

“Pythagoras and Newton?” Sarah watched James swing himself into the saddle. He made it look so easy.

“Right.” James picked up his reins and turned to look down at her. “I’ve always been somewhat keen on mathematics. I got Pythagoras for my fifteenth birthday. Newton I bought myself when I came down from Cambridge. He went with me to the Peninsula.”

“Were you there long?”

James looked out over his horse’s ears and nudged Pythagoras into motion. Rosebud obligingly followed.

“Long? Not by the calendar, but if you measure time not by days, but by what those days do to you—eons. I was in Spain from the summer of 1811 until the April of 1813, when my father began to fail. I was there for Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, and Salamanca, but I missed Vittoria—and Waterloo, of course.”

Sarah saw the muscle in his cheek twitch as he tightened his mouth. Then he shook his head and smiled, turning to look down at her again.

“I actually did go to America after I came down from Cambridge and before I went to Spain. Watch the gate there.”

Pythagoras led Rosebud out of the practice ring. Sarah leaned slightly away from the fence and Rosebud obligingly stepped a little farther from the gate so that Sarah’s skirt just brushed it.

“That was close.”

James laughed. “Rosebud would never intentionally rub you off. She’s just a little absentminded.”

“She doesn’t remember I’m up here?”

“Well, she knows
something
is on her back. Once you figure out how to use the reins, she’ll obey you quite nicely.”

Sarah leaned over to pat Rosebud’s neck. Rosebud shook her head in what Sarah assumed was a friendly fashion, making the bit jingle.

“So you were in America? Did you come to Philadelphia?”

“Unfortunately, no. My father had some investment interests in New York and Boston, so I went there. I had intended to visit your father, but I came back to fight instead. So we almost did meet in the past.”

Sarah tried to imagine James in her father’s cramped study amid the political pamphlets, medical books, and serious young republicans. He would have stood out like a swan in a duck pond.

“I’m afraid you would have been bored to tears, unless you enjoy arguing politics.”

“Did you do nothing for amusement?”

“I kept house and taught school.”

“Hmm. So I would not have had to wade through a sea of suitors to gain your attention?”

“No.” Sarah glanced over at him. If she saw pity in his eyes, she swore she’d climb down from this beast right now and disappear into her room for a good, long cry.

She didn’t see pity. She saw…speculation. She raised her chin.

“Are you going to teach me to ride or not?”

James’s lips slid into a slow grin. “Yes, love, I’m definitely going to teach you to ride.”

When they finally returned to the stable, they had been out for two hours.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for the lesson to go on this long.”

Sarah waved away James’s concern. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m a good, strong American girl.”

He chuckled. “You’re going to be a sore American girl tonight. I recommend a hot bath before dinner.”

“Thank you, doctor. I shall follow your advice.”

James swung out of his saddle and reached up to lift her down.

“Brace yourself on my shoulders.”

Sarah nodded, but when her weight came off the horse, her elbows buckled. Her body slid down the length of his.

“Oh!” She felt his hard form from her breasts to her thighs. Heat rushed through her—embarrassment and something else. It was shocking—but she had to cling to him. Her legs had turned to jelly. If she loosened her hold on his shoulders, she’d fall flat in the stable yard dirt.

She looked up helplessly. His eyes had that hot, intent look again.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? You’re the one who threw herself at me.”

“I did not.”

“Hmm.” James was not complaining. Sarah’s body felt very nice pressed up against his. Very nice indeed. Exhilarating. He moved his hips back slightly so she wouldn’t be shocked by just how exhilarated he was and lowered his head to taste her lips.

“James!” she hissed.

“Hmm?” She smelled of horse and outdoors and something else, light and sweet.

“James!” She stiffened and managed to put some space between them. “Everyone is staring at us.”

Her eyes were huge between the reddish blond lashes. The hazel had turned from green to gold. Sparks, he thought. Sparks and a touch of panic. The panic reached him. He straightened and looked around. The large number of stable hands present quickly found jobs that needed doing elsewhere.

“Sorry.” He grinned. He wasn’t sorry at all—or he was sorry that she was embarrassed. Once they were married he intended to kiss her wherever and whenever the urge struck. “But you really shouldn’t throw yourself at me like that.”

“I didn’t!” Sarah looked like an indignant kitten. “My arms gave out, that’s all. I was as surprised as you were, I’m sure.”

James took his gloves off and tucked a silky strand of red-blond hair back behind the delicate rim of Sarah’s ear.

“Surprise was not my main emotion.”

Her breath caught and she pulled her head away from his fingers. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to swallow me whole or something.”

James laughed and stepped back, putting Sarah’s hand on his arm. “Do I frighten you?”

She considered the question. “No. I’m sure you should, but you don’t.”

“So how do I make you feel?”

“I don’t know.” She looked at her hand on his arm. “You make me feel odd. Comfortable, sometimes, but fluttery other times.”

“Fluttery?”

Sarah chewed on the edge of her bottom lip. “Nervous, but not unpleasantly so. Excited, maybe, like I’m waiting for something, but I’m not sure what.” She looked up and saw James grinning. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?”

“Looking at me that way. It is most unsettling.”

“Is it?” James put his hand over Sarah’s. “Do you know how you make me feel?”

“No.” She looked up at him, eyes wide with “expectation. “How do I make you feel?”

“Excited, like I’m waiting for something.” He leaned closer and leered at her. “But I know what I am waiting for!”

Her eyes blinked once, then she pulled back her hand and swatted his shoulder. She didn’t put any muscle into it, so he could tell she wasn’t really angry.

“Hey, don’t you know you’re not allowed to hit a duke?”

“I’m an American. I’ll hit any duke I please.”

“
That
will endear you to all the old biddies at Almack’s.” James laughed, picturing Silence Jersey’s face should Sarah really slap Devonshire or Rutland or Cumberland. “I shall have to keep a close eye on you when you meet Prinny. Our Regent often deserves a good wallop.”

“I’m sure he does. Why do you put up with him?”

“Because he will be king, and unlike you Americans, we English are still attached to our monarchy. Perhaps we fear that if Prinny goes, all the nobles go. I’m not sure I could adjust to being plain Mr. Runyon.”

Sarah stopped, pulling James to a stop also. He looked questioningly down at her.

“You would be a wonderful plain Mr. Runyon.”

James stared at her. “Sarah.” He blinked and looked off toward the house. “Sarah, my love, I do hope you will decide to have me.”

“Sarah, James says we’re to ride over to Westbrooke today!”

Sarah put aside the book she was reading to smile up at Lizzie. The girl was almost dancing around the library. Her excitement seemed a trifle extreme for something as mundane as a visit to a neighbor. “I can’t picture Robbie presiding over a tea tray,” she said, laughing.

“Well, he won’t really. I mean, I’m sure there will be tea and cakes—Mrs. Mandley, his housekeeper, bakes lovely cakes—but the point is to give you some more riding practice and a chance to see the estate where your father grew up.” Lizzie flopped down on the chair next to Sarah’s. “Isn’t it a good thing Mrs. Croft just finished my new riding habit? It makes me look much more the thing, don’t you think? Older and more…sophisticated.” She managed to sound both confident and anxious simultaneously.

“Oh, definitely. I’m sure, um, James will be quite impressed.”

Lizzie stuck out her tongue, and Sarah laughed.

“However, I’m not certain Lady Amanda, if she were sitting in my chair, would be impressed by your current deportment, miss! I believe she would point out that ladies do not behave with such enthusiasm. They seat themselves with a shade more grace than you just exhibited, and they most assuredly do not stick out their tongues.”

“Well, she’s not sitting in your chair, and you know I can behave when I want to.” Lizzie rose elegantly to her feet and curtseyed. “Miss Hamilton, I trust you have no objection to joining a small excursion this afternoon to Lord Westbrooke’s estate?”

Sarah nodded back graciously. “No, Lady Elizabeth, I have no objection at all, that is, if his grace really has approved the plan.”

Lizzie dropped her skirts and skip-hopped to the library door. “Of course he has. It was his idea, after Major Draysmith brought word that evil Cousin Richard is safely situated in London.”

Later that afternoon, they set out for Westbrooke. Major Draysmith rode ahead with Lizzie while James stayed with Sarah. Her horsemanship had improved greatly from the time he had first lifted her onto Rosebud’s back, but she did not feel up to maintaining any pace much faster than a walk.

“I’m sorry to keep you plodding along with me,” she said. “You must long to be up with the others.”

“No, I don’t.” James grinned. “I had my gallop early this morning, and I’d much rather be keeping you company than my sister. Charles will see Lizzie comes to no harm. He often took charge of our young recruits on the Peninsula.”

Sarah looked ahead to where Lizzie and Charles were riding. They were almost out of sight.

“What will Major Draysmith do now that the fighting is over?”

“I don’t know.” James frowned. “I’m not sure Charles knows himself.”

“Doesn’t he have an estate to manage?”

“No. He’s the second son—the spare. After he came down from Cambridge, he racketed around London for years, drinking, gambling, whor—” James coughed. “…
har
dly caring what he did. He followed me into the army out of boredom, I think, but it was the best thing he could have done. It gave him a purpose. He was an excellent officer.”

Sarah worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She liked Major Draysmith. “And his brother?”

“Knightsdale? What has he to say to the matter?”

“Perhaps he needs an estate manager.”

James laughed. “Knightsdale already has an excellent manager, Sarah. Don’t worry about Charles. He doesn’t need—or want—any help, especially from his brother.”

“Why especially from his brother?”

James shrugged. “I don’t imagine any man wants to hang on his brother’s sleeve, but Knightsdale and Charles don’t get along. No bad blood, really, just nothing in common. I’m not sure Charles has slept a night in his ancestral home since he left for Eton. When he’s in the neighborhood, he stays with Robbie or me.”

“Really?” That struck Sarah as sad. If she were lucky enough to have siblings, she would see that they stayed close. “What about a family of his own then, now that he’s free to settle down? Doesn’t he want to marry?”

“Not any time soon! He’s only thirty, Sarah. Plenty of time for a leg shackle.”

Sarah frowned at the space between Rosebud’s ears. “You’re younger than he is, aren’t you?”