Page 52 of A Single Obsession

“Going riding with his lordship, are we?”

“What if I am?”

“Well, you be careful, miss, and don’t start on one of your freaks to impress him. He’s a top horseman, and you would be bound to come unstuck if you tried to best him.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she called behind her as she left the room, with her matching scarlet riding hat already pinned onto her head.

She walked downstairs and out into the garden with a light step, almost colliding with Lady Harting’s woman as she went out the back door. Reed dipped into a curtsey and hurried inside. Eliza was wondering what could have enticed the maid outside so early when she caught sight of a black-haired man striding away from the house.

He glanced behind him, and as he did so, she realised she’d never seen him before.

Oh my. Did Reed have an admirer? What would Lady Harting say to that?

As she approached the stables, Eliza forgot all about him. She heard voices ahead, and her heart sank as she recognised the sharp tone of Harriet’s voice.

To her dismay, she discovered both Beau and her rival were already mounted.

Harriet’s smile didn’t deceive Eliza. Her cheeks glowed, her nostrils flared, and her eyes—her eyes flashed with malice, mingled with triumph and something like pity.

“When I discovered you had been riding before breakfast together yesterday, the temptation was too much, and I knew I had to join you. You won’t mind if we go on ahead. My horse is becoming rather restless.”

Eliza huffed under her breath. In her opinion, Harriet’s mare was a sluggish beast, and if she really considered her hard to control, she must be as poor a rider as Beau had suggested.

With a flick of her whip, Harriet urged her mount into a walk. When she reached the entrance to the yard, she turned and called over her shoulder. “Come, Beaumont.”

Eliza stared at Beau, willing him to contradict her rival, but the resolution with which he had acted the night before seemed to have deserted him. With a shrug of his shoulders and an apologetic smile, he urged his mount forward and followed Harriet out of the stables.

As Eliza stood, staring after them, her eyes glazed over.

Yesterday, Harriet had humiliated her in front of everybody, and now she had stolen her ride.

And Beau had let her.

Her shoulders slumped as she processed her disappointment. Why had he left her standing? Was she fooling herself to think he preferred her to Harriet? The beautiful, accomplished Harriet. Would he be better off marrying her?

Eliza gave herself a little shake. What was she saying? Beau might have succumbed to the horrid woman’s sly tactics in the same way she had the previous evening, but he did prefer her. She was sure of it.

Harriet would not make him a comfortable wife. She did not understand him. She didn’t even want to understand him. All she desired was what he could give her in terms of wealth and position.

Beau deserved more than that.

Eliza pressed her lips together in renewed determination. She would not let her have him. He might not love her, but she loved him, and she knew she was much better suited to be his wife.

Finch frowned when he saw the resolve on her face. “No playing off your old tricks.”

“What makes you think I’m planning any?” she said, flashing him a bold glance before mounting her horse.

He shook his head. “Don’t forget you’re a lady now.”

“Yes—and what a bore it is, always having to conform.”

Not waiting to hear what other words of wisdom her groom wished to impart, Eliza urged her mount forward and Whisper trotted out of the stables.

It was some time before she caught up with the others. They had abandoned their horses and were walking alongside the stream which fed into the lake. Stepping stones enabled a person to cross to the other side without having to walk up to the bridge, which was some distance away.

Beau had tethered Jet and was hopping from one stone to the next with ease, perhaps hoping to put some space between himself and Harriet, who stood by the stream, begging him to stop.

Eliza’s spirits rose. All was not lost. He was putting up a fight.