Page 22 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘He’s no bother,’ Miss Hesse said, serenely, mastering her horse as beautifully as she did everything. Ashford fought the urge to scowl. He had meant what he had said to Brandon. He would never torture his friend by putting his hat in the ring, but after the events of the past day, Miss Hesse had never seemed more tempting.

‘Let us be off,’ Lady Phoebe declared, clapping her hands as she approached the gleaming thoroughbred that was Sir Waldo’s latest purse-breaking gift. Her groom made to give her a leg up, but Sir Waldo shooed him away in order to throw her into the saddle himself.

‘Sir Waldo cannot keep his hands off you,’ Lady Phoebe,’ Lady Hesse observed with indulgence.

‘How sweet,’ Lady Morton said. Then, with a pout, added: ‘Does no one throw me into the saddle?’

She picked an imaginary piece of fluff from her overspilling bodice. Lord Hesse stepped forward so quickly his skintight breeches creaked under the strain.

‘Your groom can assist you perfectly well,’ Lady Hesse said waspishly, seizing her son’s arm.

Ashford hid a smile behind his horse’s neck, allowing the scent – leather, hay and horsehair all mingled together – to calm him for a moment. In his belief, there was no problem that could not be solved by an hour on horseback, and Miss Hanworth would be no different. He took the left stirrup in his hands and was just about to place his foot within, when he became aware of a flurry of commotion to his right.

‘Miss? Miss?’

Ashford turned to see Miss Hanworth’s groom standing, baffled, holding the reins of a cheerful-looking fellow of fourteen hands. Next to him, Miss Hanworth was wringing her hands.

‘Is anything amiss?’ Ashford asked, frowning.

Her horse turned curiously to regard her, as if he did not understand her behaviour any more than Ashford did and blew a soft snort of air in her direction. Miss Hanworth skittered back several steps.

‘I cannot,’ Miss Hanworth said. ‘I simply cannot do it – I am too afraid.’

She seemed to be shaking, the ostrich feathers on her hat wobbling precariously.

‘But I have seen you riding, haven’t I?’ Ashford said, perplexed. ‘In Hyde Park?’

‘Ashford?’ Lady Phoebe called over from atop her horse. ‘Is all well?’

Ashford and Miss Hanworth were the only ones not mounted now, and they were beginning to attract curious glances. Ashford felt a prickle of embarrassment run up his spine.

‘You need not ride if you do not wish to,’ he told Miss Hanworth, trying to keep the impatience from his voice. ‘Perhaps you ought to—’

‘See how he looks at me,’ Miss Hanworth said, speaking over him – and truly, if she interrupted him once more he was going to lose his temper, he really was – ‘Leering down his nose in such a way.’

‘I think that is just the way all horses …’ Ashford began, rather helplessly, for what could he say? Their noses simply were very long.

‘What is going on?’ Sir Waldo grumbled.

‘I think she is a nervous rider,’ Lady Phoebe murmured.

‘Why say you can ride, if you cannot,’ Lady Morton drawled in perfectly audible undertone.

‘Darling, we must be sympathetic!’ Lady Hesse said, loudly this time. ‘Not every lady has been raised in the saddle, as we have!’

It was turning into a Scene and there was nothing in the world Ashford hated more.

‘Remain here,’ Ashford told Miss Hanworth. ‘If you would prefer,’ he added, hearing the peremptoriness of his own voice.

‘Very well,’ Miss Hanworth agreed. Then, turning limpid eyes upon him, she asked: ‘Will you – will you remain here, with me?’

Ashford hesitated. It was such a fine day … Surely, if anyone should stay, it should be Mr Hanworth? But Mr Hanworth was seated upon his own horse, regarding his notebook with absolutely no ounce of concern for his sister’s plight. Ashford repressed a rush of indignation. Recollect, he urged himself, spending time together was an integral part of courtship.

‘Of course,’ Ashford said, ungritting his teeth with some effort. ‘Of course I shall. Phoebe, Miss Hanworth is not feeling well, so she and I will remain here.’

‘Oh,’ Lady Phoebe said, audibly disappointed. ‘Oh, of course – perhaps you might ask Reeves to give you a tour of the house?’

Next to Lady Phoebe, Lady Hesse looked from Miss Hanworth to Ashford and back again with narrowed, suspicious eyes.