“I’m ready.”
He touched the pommel of the sidesaddle. “Put both hands here to help pull yourself up.”
Rose grasped it and took a deep breath. Lord Rupert bent low, laced his fingers together, and held them, palms up, by her leg. Not believing she was doing this, Rose placed her leather-clad foot into his hands. He boosted her, and Rose felt herself leave the ground. The next moment she was sitting in the saddle, gazing down at Lord Rupert.
“I did it!” Exhilaration filled her and she laughed. She was actually sitting on a horse.
Lord Rupert beamed. “You executed that perfectly. Horsewoman extraordinaire will be your new title.”
Rose’s heart soared right out of her chest. Of course, it was daft of her, but his words of praise made her feel good.
A “humph” sounded from her other side and she turned to look. Frau Geruscha was mounting her own horse with the help of the groom.
Rupert gave Rose a few more instructions on how to guide the horse. “Whatever you do, hang on and don’t fall off. We’ll go at a slow walk until you grow accustomed.”
Rose held on to both the reins and the saddle. She wished she could sit straddle, like a man. As it was, perched on her sidesaddle, she felt as though she would slide off at the slightest unexpected turn or jolt.
Lord Rupert sat much higher on his massive horse, Gregor, but he stayed very close to Rose, giving her instructions—and multiple compliments—as they slowly headed out through the gatehouse onto the cobblestone Marktplatz.
“That’s it. You’re doing wonderfully.”
The horse obeyed her gentle nudges and one-word commands as they made their way through the town gate to the meadow where the shepherd boys grazed the sheep and cows. Rose couldn’t help smiling, sitting high atop her horse. And Lord Rupert couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. He taught her, in rapid succession, the command to turn the horse around, to go left, to go right, and to stand still.
“Are you ready to practice different gaits?” He hovered beside her.
Rose nodded.
First they went from a walk to a trot, surprising Rose with how much the slight increase in speed jolted her. When she grew somewhat accustomed to the rhythmic motion of the horse, he encouraged her to speed up to a canter. She did, gently pressing the mare’s side with her heels. She liked the feel of the wind blowing her hair, but her heart stayed in her throat. One false move and she’d hit the ground with a painful thud.
“How do I slow down?”
“Why do you want to slow down? You’re doing fine.”
How would she stop? He hadn’t taught her that either. She felt completely at his mercy.
Lord Rupert drew his horse even closer to hers. Eight powerful legs pounded beneath them. What if the legs got tangled up? They’d bring her, Rupert, and the two horses down in one mass. Her heart thumped hard against her chest.
“Lord Rupert, I want to stop.”
He didn’t speak, only reached over and grabbed her reins, pulling back gently. “Whoa.”
Both horses slowed and halted.
Rose held on to the pommel with both hands. Her breath came in gasps and she marveled at how easily Lord Rupert had managed to slow the powerful beasts to a halt.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you.” Rupert still held her mare’s reins. He covered her hand where it rested on the saddle. “Forgive me.”
Rose looked into his eyes. “Of course.”
He was relentless with his flirting. She knew she should feel irritated, but instead, his words made her feel like cooked pottage—warm and weak. What a ridiculous romantic she was turning out to be—as bad as Hildy.
Lord Rupert removed his hand from hers and Rose blinked hard, trying to clear her mind. The sun bore down on them from high in the cloudless sky. She brushed a strand of hair back from her temple.
“Where’s Frau Geruscha?” She turned and spotted her mistress behind them, the scowl on her face so threatening it made Rose’s heart sink. “We’d better head back. I would not upset Frau Geruscha.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He turned his horse around.
Rose had trouble turning her horse. It took her three tries before the gray mare obeyed and followed behind Lord Rupert and his big mount. She was startled when he suddenly stopped his horse and slid off. He walked to the edge of the meadow and bent down.
He was picking flowers.
Lord Rupert came toward her, holding a handful of purple, pink, and white wildflowers. If he wanted to flatter her and make her feel special, he certainly knew what he was doing.
It was the second time in her life someone had given her flowers, and he was the giver both times.
“I thank you. They’re beautiful.”