Page 46 of A Single Obsession

Eliza was never tongue-tied with servants. “As you’ve probably guessed,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she glanced down at her habit, “I’m going for a ride.”

“Very good, madam. Do you require any assistance?”

She shook her head. “I know my way, thank you. Wait—what time is breakfast served?”

“At ten o’clock, madam.”

Eliza uttered a word of thanks and headed down the corridor and out the back of the house. She strode across the lawn with a rather mannish gait, her long legs in a hurry to reunite her with her horse.

Finch had guessed she would want an early ride and Whisper was standing waiting for her, saddled up and ready to go.

“You read my mind,” she said, giving her groom a warm smile before he helped her into the saddle.

With a gentle word, Eliza spurred her mount into action and rode out of the stables, followed at an appropriate distance by Finch.

She took the track that led down the hill to the river and, as soon as they were away from the house, she urged Whisper into a trot. Beyond the lake there was an open stretch of ground and, with a slight touch from her whip, Eliza encouraged the mare to lengthen her stride into a canter.

At length, she turned back toward the glistening water and drew Whisper to a standstill at the lake’s edge. She dismounted without help, sliding to the ground with ease. Reins in hand, she stood on the bank to admire the view across the lake and up the hill to the house.

As she breathed in the fresh country air, drinking in the peace, a family of ducks swam out from under the arch of the bridge to her right, making ripples over the surface as they went. Eliza closed her eyes. All she could hear was the gentle quacking from her feathered friends, swimming off into the distance, and a myriad of birds chirping their early morning greetings.

Then there was another sound—the sound of horse’s hooves—coming from the far side of the bridge. Unwilling to interrupt her peaceful reverie, she kept her eyes shut, supposing it to be an estate worker going about their business.

Eliza expected the horse to pass right by her, but instead of hearing the hoofbeats fading into the distance, they came to an abrupt halt, and a hearty male voice hailed her. She did not need to open her eyes to recognise who it belonged to.

“Morning, Eliza,” said Beau, dismounting. “I’m glad to know you arrived safely. I didn’t expect to see you up and about so early. Do you usually rise with the sun?”

“Hardly up with the sun, but I love to ride before breakfast when I can. But you—I’ve been completely taken in. I thought you were a gentleman of fashion, and yet here you are, coming back from a ride with hours still to go until midday.”

Beau shrugged. “I can’t stay inside when there is a fine morning like this beckoning, whatever time I’ve gone to bed the night before.”

“Nor I.”

“Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived,” he said casually. “Friend of mine was selling a horse and if I didn’t look at it yesterday, he couldn’t guarantee holding it for me to see. We all decided to go as Whitlow thought it might suit him if I didn’t want it and besides, he was ready to jump at any chance to escape baby talk. As for Harting, I think the prospect of being the only man at the table was too much for him. Probably comes from having all daughters. I suppose my mother looked after you all right?”

Eliza gave a weak smile, but said nothing, refusing to lie and yet unwilling to tell the truth. She brushed away the realisation that she had endured a torturous evening without Beau there to protect her because of a horse. What had she expected? It was unreasonable to have hoped he might have altered his plans for her. And he could not have known how difficult she would find the evening without him.

“Did you buy the horse?” Eliza asked, directing her thoughts into a more positive channel.

“No. A lively stallion with lots of good points, but not quite what I was looking for. Harting bought it instead. I’ll show it to you later, if you want.”

A dreamy look came into Beau’s eyes as he glanced around him.

“I played here in the woods and on the lake when I was a child. Used to come with Jem Quincey, the man who’s now my head groom. He was the closest thing to a brother I had growing up. We often escaped from the house in the middle of the night to watch the badgers. It took us weeks to work out where their set was, but it was worth it.

“We would take up position in the undergrowth and wait for them to come out and hunt. If we stayed awake long enough, that is. Once we both fell asleep and if Jem’s father hadn’t found us, I would have got into no end of trouble. I crept into the house by the servants’ door and up the backstairs and no one was any the wiser, though I am surprised my stepfather didn’t suspect something when I couldn’t stay awake that evening.”

He pondered for a moment. “Come to think of it, I believe Harting did know about it. He chose not to notice to keep the peace. Don’t blame him. It was my mother who made a fuss about things like that. She’s always hated me mixing with the stable hands. I would have been subject to one of those it is not the sort of behaviour we expect from a peer of the realm talks.”

Beau shuddered, as if shaking off such an unpleasant memory.

“I should like to see the badgers,” Eliza said. “Are they still here?”

“I don’t know. It was years ago, and I can’t say I spend a lot of time roaming the woods at night these days. I’ll ask Quincey.”

Whisper decided, at that moment, to make her presence known, nuzzling into Eliza’s hand.

“I suppose we should get back for breakfast,” she said, with a note of reluctance, unwilling to trade her present company for a household of people who made her feel unaccomplished and uneasy.