Page 2 of A Single Obsession

“That was magnificent. He’s a big horse for such a whipper-snapper like yourself to manage, but you did it with style.”

Eliza leaned forward to ruffle her horse’s mane as heat flooded her face. “Thank you, my lord.”

She inhaled deeply and let out the breath slowly. Then again. And again. If she did not stay calm, she would give herself away, and her reputation would be ruined.

As the warmth in her cheeks faded, Eliza risked sitting up in the saddle. It was a relief to find Beau was no longer looking at her. His gaze was fixed on two riders who had veered off from the rest of the hunting party and were heading toward them.

One was Finch, coming to reprimand her for taking the jump. The other sat in his saddle with the elegance of a sack of potatoes. How on earth could the man hunt with such a bad seat? As he drew closer, she recognised Mr Whitlow, her cousin Frances’s husband.

Before Mr Whitlow could reach them, Beau chivvied his horse into a canter, calling over his shoulder to Anthony to follow. Eliza let out a huge sigh of relief as Beau rode away. It was gratifying to hear him praise her horsemanship, but it was far too dangerous.

She withdrew her gaze from Beau’s retreating form and realised Anthony had not moved. He was staring right at her. She dared not breathe. Had he penetrated her disguise?

After a long moment, he nodded, and sped away after Beau, and Mr Whitlow altered his path to follow them.

Eliza released the breath she had been holding and braced herself for Finch’s displeasure. What made it worse was she knew it was justified. How could she have guessed that Beau and Anthony were riding with the hunt today? If she had known, she would not have risked the masquerade, let alone the jump.

Finch rode straight up to her brother, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Of all the cork-brained things to do. I suppose it never occurred to you that you might not make it over the wall in one piece. As for you,” he snarled, looking her in the eye, “words fail me.”

Eliza tossed her head in defiance and rode off. She refused to admit that, on this occasion, he was correct.

She had not gone far before Finch and William caught up with her. Her groom took up a position on her left flank whilst her brother drew his horse alongside her on the right.

“Sorry. Finch’s orders. For your protection.”

Eliza pursed her lips and refused to answer, but inside, she screamed with vexation. Even in male garb, her freedom was curtailed.

Unbidden, some of her mother’s favourite words floated into her mind. Be thankful, Eliza Merry. That is God’s will for you.

Why should Finch’s protectiveness stop her from enjoying what remained of the hunt? She wouldn’t let it. Biting back her irritation at her almost military escort, she determined to be thankful and make the best of the situation.

It wasn’t that hard. The sun shone, and she sat astride a fine horse, unencumbered by her skirts. And despite the unnerving nature of her encounter with Beau, he had praised her riding.

As long as no one penetrated her disguise, all would be well.

The light was fading by the time the wily fox went to ground, and the hunt drew to a close. Eliza was wearier than she cared to admit and had to resist the temptation to slump in her saddle. When Beau rode up to join them, she had reason to be thankful for her groom’s highhandedness. Neither Finch nor her brother made room for him, so he had to fall back alongside Mr Whitlow.

Eliza could not help overhearing their conversation.

“You would not think such a young fellow would risk his neck going over that wall,” Mr Whitlow said, presumably nodding in her direction. “But no. You would lead them on.”

Her hackles rose in Beau’s defence.

“I didn’t ask anyone to copy me,” the Viscount said in a measured tone that suggested he was trying to restrain his irritation.

“All the same, you could not resist the wall, despite what befell your father.”

“What do you know of that? It occurred when we were both still in leading-strings.”

“My wife has told me all about it. Given what happened to him, I thought you, of all people, would be more cautious. You were reckless to take such a risk. Absolutely reckless. You should follow my example and marry and produce an heir. It is the responsibility…”

“Time to go,” said William, as Beau’s prosy brother-in-law continued to deliver his diatribe.

Without waiting for a response, her brother veered off to the left and increased his speed as he headed for a track through the trees. Eliza set off behind him, with Finch at her side. She was not sorry the day’s adventure was over, and was surprised to find herself longing for the protection of her petticoats.

They followed the trail through the woods until they reached a clearing near the end of the parsonage garden. After drawing her horse to a stop, she slipped to the ground and passed the reins to Finch, urging her brother to hurry and fetch Charlotte to bring her clothes.