Page 53 of A Single Obsession

She pulled up her horse and slid gracefully to the ground. After handing the reins to Finch, she joined her rival at the water’s edge.

“Do tell Beaumont to come back, Miss Merry. I feel sure he will take a tumble.”

Eliza tried not to scoff. “I doubt it, but if he does, he’ll only get wet.”

Harriet stared at her as if she had said something unbelievable. “But he might ruin his clothes, as well as losing his dignity.”

Eliza was not impressed that this was Harriet’s chief fear—that Beau might look ridiculous. Her eyes danced with laughter. “Surely you don’t believe he’s afraid of cold water?”

Harriet must have observed the derision in her expression and hastily altered her concerns. “He might twist his ankle or bang his head.”

“Have you such a low opinion of Beau’s sense of balance? If you had watched him jump from one moving horse to another, you would not think it likely he would fall crossing a stream.”

The other woman reddened, sorry to have voiced her fears.

“Look,” said Eliza, hoisting her skirts a little, wishing she were wearing breeches instead, and stepping onto the first stone. “I’ll show you how easy it is.”

Harriet squealed.

That was all the encouragement Eliza needed. She had not intended to follow Beau all the way across the stream, but it was too tempting, especially with him watching her, his eyes full of admiration.

Without difficulty, she skipped from one stone to the other until she reached the other side.

Beau offered her his hand for support as she stepped onto dry land again and grinned. “Impressive balance. Is Miss Whitlow coming too?”

Eliza’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “I doubt it. She’s too scared. If she feared you would fall in, I don’t suppose she’ll risk the journey herself.”

“Good,” Beau muttered under his breath.

Eliza pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. She didn’t think he’d meant her to hear that.

“Shall we explore the wood?”

“I’d like that,” she said, taking his arm.

They had not gone far before they heard a cry for help. They turned back toward the way they’d come and saw that Harriet, not to be outdone, had overcome her fears, and was crossing the stream. She had taken a few steps but seemed to have frozen on the middle stepping stone, unable to go forward or backward.

Eliza rolled her eyes and, with a little shake of her head, returned to the water’s edge, with Beau right behind her.

“I suppose we’d better rescue her,” he said, sounding as reluctant as she felt.

He was about to cross to where she was stranded when Eliza caught a look on Miss Whitlow’s face that suggested she was not as helpless as she appeared. It made her suspect Harriet had manufactured her plight in order to draw Beau’s attention back to herself and would probably throw herself into his arms in the process.

Determined to thwart her scheme, Eliza laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Let me go.”

With ease, she crossed to the middle of the stream, where Harriet stood unmoving. “Give me your hand,” she said, stretching out her right arm toward her.

Her rival scowled at her, but was forced to accept the proffered help or admit she was not stuck after all. She grabbed her hand, pulling on it with such force that Eliza almost lost her balance.

“Easy now,” she said as she regained her footing, a warning look in her eyes.

As Harriet stepped toward her, Eliza moved back to the previous stone and then repeated the process, stretching out her arm again to offer support.

This time, as Harriet trod on the new stone, she jerked her rescuer’s hand.

Eliza caught the malicious gleam in her rival’s eye before losing her balance and toppling into the stream.

She gasped as her body hit the cold water with a tremendous splash, splattering Harriet, who let out a high-pitched squeal. The stream was less than two feet deep, and she landed, rather inelegantly, on her rear.