The American Bride

chapter Six

The sun, only minutes old, was visible as a promise above the line of trees as Cara hurried out to the stables. Glum stood in the stable yard holding the reins of a slim-legged mare. Since the beginning of her experiment with Richard and the colt, the wizened headgroom had been eager to set Cara on the best of Julian's cattle. Preferring to ride at dawn before the rest of the household was about, she managed to secure a carefree hour to herself before she had to take on the restrictions imperative in her role as a proper governess. Somehow after the morning ride Cara was able to fulfill her duties without chaffing under the confinement of her designated role.

"It's going to be a beautiful summer's day, Glum," Cara stated, rubbing the mare's nose. "Morning, Gentian."

"She's a mite frisky this morning," Glum cautioned. "Better let her run a bit before you put her to any of those jumps."

Although his gruff voice held disapproval the twinkle in his eyes belied the words. Cara had infinite respect for the venerable horseman and realized the compliment he paid her by letting her ride the horses unattended. Although she had ridden others she had come to love the dainty little Gentian whose mischievous streak turned every ride into a challenge.

"Now, Glum, you know I'll treat her like the lady she is," Cara said straight-faced. "Gentian and I have worked out a very nice arrangement. She gets to have her way on the ride out and I get to have my way coming back to the stables."

At Glum's snort of mirth Cara gave him a dazzling smile, warm and free of restraint. The old man cocked his head to the side studying the girl as she patted and caressed the mare. It always surprised him that no one had been able to discern the beauty of the girl despite the dowdy clothes and the all-encompassing headdress. It amused him when she arrived at the stable all bland looks and prim airs in case anyone was near. When they were alone the girl opened up, making him privy to the warm-hearted natural grace beneath the fusty disguise. He supposed that it was necessary to hide her looks in order to hire out as governess but it certainly was a shame.

Glum nested his fingers to give the girl a leg up, marveling at the featherweight in his hands. He watched while Cara arranged her knee on the sidesaddle and smoothed the skirts of her oversize riding habit. Despite it's poor fit the dove gray color became her, Glum noted. As the girl and the mare trotted sedately out of the yard, the groom shook his head, knowing that just beyond the band of trees that hid them from sight they would be flying along the track that led to the high fields. His leathery skin wrinkled in amusement as he remembered the first time Cara had ridden out.

He had followed the girl that first morning. Unsure of Caroline's expertise and concerned for Wilton's bloodstock, he had remained out of sight and had almost stumbled on her when she stopped at the trees lining the first clearing. Easing himself into the sheltering underbrush Glum had moved to the edge of the opening. His old eyes had almost started out of his head when the governess pulled off her headdress to display a wealth of burnished curls that fluttered like a pennant as she raced across the field.

Thoroughly intrigued, Glum had followed Cara to the high fields staying well within the cover of trees as he watched her. In growing respect he had observed the care with which she worked the horse. Each tested the other for weakness but the young woman always maintained a firm control. Finally both the governess and the horse rode as a single unit. Her jumping skills were apparent as she started slowly and then increased the height of the jumps until she felt the horse hesitate. Then leaping off the horse's back she rubbed the sweating animal with sweet-smelling clumps of grass, humming as she worked. From that day on, Glum never worried when the girl rode out in the morning.

Unaware of Glum's reminiscing, Cara and Gentian sniffed at the dewy smell filling their nostrils. As the track wound up through the woods the gray capered under Cara's relaxed rein. When they reached the high field the mare, accustomed to the routine, stood whickering as Cara untied her loathsome headdress and unbound her hair. In the quiet of the early morning she was free of the restrictions of her self-imposed disguise. For an hour she was back again in America riding her father's horses, loose hair flying in the summer wind.

"Hold on a minute, Gentian," Cara laughed as the dainty mare stamped impatiently. "We'll be off soon enough."

Cara ran her fingers through her hair, letting the riot of red-gold curls tumble unchecked down her back. Her head felt lighter, free of the weighty braid of hair she had to bind close against the nape of her neck. It was the part of playing the frumpy governess she hated the most. Unbuttoning the collar of her habit she stretched her neck trying to catch the morning breeze on her perspiring throat.

"What a wonderful morning," Cara sighed aloud.

At the unladylike snort of annoyance from her companion, Cara kneed the mare into a gentle trot as she breathed in the fresh air, her mind busy with her own thoughts.

It had been over a week since she had had her angry confrontation with Julian in the stableyard. It still amazed her that he hadn't dismissed her out of hand for her ill-advised verbal attack. Since then Cara had tried to maintain exemplary decorum but she was aware of his disapproving eyes following her whenever they chanced to meet. Thankfully he had not summoned the children for a further audience.

Gentian blew, the muscles under her skin jumping to indicate her readiness for a more vigorous workout. With a start, Cara brought her mind back to the business at hand. She settled herself more securely in the sidesaddle then nudged the mare into a blur of movement. Tearing across the fields and up into the flatter meadows Cara reveled in the wind against her face. The blood pulsed in her veins as she blended with the movement of the horse, giving Gentian her head although directing the horse to the area where the jumps were located.

Julian usually did not ride at such an early hour. However since his houseguests had all abandoned him to rusticate in the country he had been rising at dawn. He did not miss them; he had to admit that their continued company had begun to pall on him. Since he had been at Weathersfield he was becoming more interested in the property. Perhaps he ought to spend more time on the estate despite the lures cast out by the departing Valencia.

"Darling, you can't possibly stay here," the blond girl drawled, peeping at him through a flutter of eyelashes. "The Regent and simply everyone will be in Brighton. Couldn't you come with us?"

"Really, Valencia. You needn't carry on so. I'm sure you will have gallants aplenty to hover around you," he countered.

"But, Julian, I'll miss you."

Julian was surprised to discover that he was quite impervious to the pleading tones of the golden girl framed in the carriage window. She had always preened and pouted to force him to do her bidding. He knew that there were others who had sampled the delights of the winsome girl posed as a picture of wounded innocence. Her kittenish ways had amused him in the past but now he wished an end to her guises and false emotions. He shrugged off a vision of angry blue-green eyes as he kissed the wrist of Valencia's extended hand.

"Truly, my dear, I must be about my estate. I have been neglectful of my household and my tenants," Julian explained.

It was true Julian thought, as he sat his horse on the edge of the clearing. Since his houseguests had left he had delved more than usual into the business of the estate. He had always been conscientious about his holdings but had left a great portion of the details to his agents. Lately he had become aware that he ought to spend more time on his estates. Perhaps he had become bored with the social set in London. He had felt a building ennui which dissipated as he became more immersed in the day-to-day events on his property.

If only Edward Tallworth had left with the others, Julian's peace of mind would be complete. He was aware that the man was bored by Julian's sudden enjoyment of estate business but still lounged around, unwilling to accept the hints thrown out to take himself off. Though Tallworth grumbled and complained about the country hours and lack of entertainment, he had made no move to find more kindred spirits.

Julian's quiet reverie was shattered as a horse bolted through a thin band of trees to his right.

The sudden appearance of the horse and rider had an almost magical quality. Under cover of the trees Julian watched as the rider set the gray to the first set of jumps. At first he believed that the rider was a child but on closer scrutiny he realized it was a young girl. Her figure, almost at one with the horse, appeared to be slender but the swell of bosom indicated more mature characteristics. Sun-burnished curls blew behind her like a shaft of fire. Although at this distance Julian could not make out her features he sensed that she was a rare beauty.

As each of the obstacles was jumped, a tinkling sound of pure joy floated across the field.

With bated breath Julian watched in fascination as the twosome sailed over the low hedges, working toward the stone wall set at the far end of the meadow. The girl approached the high jump, but did not try it immediately. She walked the mare along the wall, talking and patting the neck of the sweated animal. Then Julian heard a low chuckle as the girl swerved away from the stones and trotted on the little capering gray down the field. Horse and rider thundered toward the wall and Julian held his breath as the mare's muscles bunched for the jump. At the last minute the mare shied, swerving and dumping her rider in a flurry of skirts.

Expelling his breath in a quick explosion, Julian dug his heels into the sides of his stallion.

Cara tested her limbs and was grateful to discover nothing but her pride was injured. She rubbed her grass-stained hands against her skirts then approached the grazing gray.

"You ungrateful hussy," Cara grumbled reaching for the reins. "After all the apples and sweets I've given you. That's the third time this week you've refused the wall. One of these days you'll have to take it, you know."

The mare nuzzled Cara's shoulder by way of apology and the disheveled girl affectionately stroked the neck of the beautiful animal. As she leaned over to brush the dirt off her riding habit she heard the sound of an approaching horse. In alarm she squinted at the figure at the far end of the field, recognizing Julian even at that distance. Without thought Cara grasped Gentian's reins and standing on a nearby stump catapulted herself into the saddle. Fear of discovery set Cara's heart pounding but she forced down her emotion as she once more rode the mare at the wall.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Cara crooned into Gentian's ear as they pounded across the field toward the rough pile of stones. "We can make it."

The horse must have sensed Cara's desperation because her muscles bunched and without hesitation she took the wall with inches to spare. In full flight the horse and rider raced for the trees and disappeared.

At first Julian was stunned by the flight of the girl but his amazement quickly turned to anger. By the time he cleared the wall there was no evidence of the pair. Rider and horse had been swallowed up in the woods with no indication of their direction. From the high fields Julian knew the girl had access to limitless areas. He was furious that an unknown rider was on his property but having no idea which estate she had come from there was no way to intercept her. In exasperation he pushed his hair off his sweating forehead, slapping his riding crop viciously against his boot.

In near panic Cara rode through the woods, stopping only when she feared that she would do Gentian some damage. She sat atop the heaving horse listening for any signs of pursuit. With shaking hands she braided her hair and retied the headdress to cover it. Brushing the worst of the dirt from her skirts Cara tried to compose herself before she approached the stableyard. She knew she was still in imminent danger of discovery should Julian run into her at this juncture. Despite the minutes ticking away she waited until Gentian had rested before nudging the mare along the path to the stables.

"Not hurt, Miss?" Glum asked in concern, taking in Cara's dirt-streaked habit.

"No, it's worse," cried the flustered girl, leaping to the ground. "It's Lord Wilton. He - I mean," the governess stammered in confusion.

"I'll take care of Gentian. Off with ye."

Glum caught the reins thrust into his callused hands, then turned with the mare as Cara fled toward the Hall. Moving quickly to get the horse under cover, Glum assigned a boy to walk and groom the horse. He was back outside when the darkly scowling Lord Wilton returned. Julian flung himself from the horse turning toward the Hall. He hesitated, then stopped and hailed Glum who was leading the stallion toward the stables. "Have you seen any strangers hereabout?"

"No one's arrived at the Hall since you went off for your ride, Lord Wilton."

"It's a girl I'm wondering about," Julian mentioned nonchalantly.

"One of the tenants' girls, milord?" Glum squinted into the sun then spat in the dust.

"No. It's a young gentlewoman with blazing red hair who rides like the wind. I could swear I've never seen her around here before. She was up riding in the high meadow and then she vanished."

"What kind of a horse be she riding?" Glum asked with apparent interest.

"I don't know. It was gray but I didn't get a very close look at it."

"Well, I can ask some of the boys." Glum's lackluster tone indicated the probable failure of such a plan.

"Do that," Julian commanded. Then in a more offhand tone of voice, he continued, "It's not important. I just thought it was passing strange finding an unknown girl on my land."

So that's the way of it, Glum thought staring with foreboding at Julian's disappearing back. No wonder Miss Farraday was in such a lather. Almost caught. The worst of it was that Wilton had failed to recognize the mare. With his love and appreciation of horses he was able to spot and identify most animals at a great distance. Glum had to admit that Miss Farraday made a breathtaking picture when she was astride a horse. He could understand why Wilton had had eyes for nothing but the girl.

Shaking his head Glum stomped toward the stables. "There's always trouble when the stallions are in rut," the headgroom prophesied.

Julian, unaware of Glum's dire predictions, sat long over his breakfast coffee contemplating the girl in the woods.

Even at a distance Julian had recognized that the girl was gentry. She was mounted on prime stock. The gray had taken the fences on delicate legs and its lines were good. Julian had taken that much in unconsciously. No tenant's daughter had a horse of that caliber. But it was her ability to ride, jumping sidesaddle by God, that labeled her as a member of his own class. He wondered what had made the girl bolt. Perhaps she was staying at one of the estates, wandered too far afield and then had been frightened when Julian approached.

Sipping at the cold coffee, Julian thought it might be a good idea to become reacquainted with some of his neighbors.

After all, now that he was planning to spend more time on the estate, Julian felt that it would be politic to visit some of the other landowners to exchange ideas. It would be splendid if he could locate other children the same age as Belin and Richard, he rationalized. Perhaps during the visits he would be able to smoke out the girl in the woods. He ran through the names of his neighbors trying to remember if any of them had older daughters or young wives. There was something about the red-haired horsewoman that struck him as familiar. He hadn't been close enough to observe her features but he had the distinct feeling that he had seen her somewhere before. She definitely owed him an apology for dashing off as she had, Julian muttered, eyes narrowed to angry slits. He would find that girl if he had to visit every estate in the county.

He slammed his fist onto the table setting the china to trembling. Why now, when he should be contemplating the coming joys of marital bliss did this girl have to turn up. Even the brief glimpse that he had of the beautiful wood sprite promised a fascination he was loath to ignore. At any rate it would do no harm to find the girl, if only to appease his curiosity.

"Can we, Miss Farraday?" Belin asked. "Just for today?"

"I'm sorry, Belin. I'm afraid I wasn't attending." Cara sat up straighter and tried to bring her mind back to the breakfast table conversation.

"I just wanted to know if we could read today instead of doing sums."

Belin's voice was exasperated as she repeated the question. "It's started in to rain and it's too gloomy to do sums."

"Admit it, Belin. Even if it was sunny you'd rather do anything than sums," was Richard's brotherly observation.

Cara looked outside, surprised that the day had turned so rainy. It made a perfect compliment to her mood that fluctuated between fear of discovery and general gloom.

"Can we, Miss Farraday?"

"I'm sorry, Belin," Cara apologized again to the child. "I think reading would be a grand idea. In fact if you wanted to pick out a book I'm sure that Richard would read it to you."

"She always picks out baby books," Richard complained.

"I do not!"

"You do so!"

Cara settled the argument by picking out a book of Viking adventures with enough battles to keep Richard contented and yet with simple enough stories to entertain Belin. Once the children became engrossed in the book, Cara slumped in dejection on the window seat. She stared out the rain-spattered glass her mind whirling over the events of her morning ride.

Since she hadn't been summoned by Julian it was apparent that he had not recognized her in the woods.

Her body trembled at the near discovery. She could just imagine his glowering looks as he demanded an explanation. With unrelenting determination Julian would have the story of her deception before he was done interrogating her. Her mind conjured up a vision of the angry interview and she winced at the all too real possibility.

Worst of all Julian would once again have found her in another untenable position, disheveled, sweaty and reeking of horse. Cara didn't know why that should bother her so. But she did know, she admitted, staring with unseeing eyes at the rain-drenched world beyond the schoolroom. She was in love with Julian.

"It's just not possible," Cara muttered under her breath.

She couldn't be in love with Julian; she didn't even like him. He was arrogant, autocratic, stubborn and a bully. She was offended by his easy morals and furious at his neglect of the children. Yet every time she encountered him she found herself drawn to the magnetism of his personality. I must have some character weakness, Cara fumed bitterly. After all there was nothing laudable about her husband.

Unfortunately her eyes remembered how Julian's tousled black hair fell across his forehead just waiting for a soft hand to brush it back. Her lips remembered the soft firmness of Julian's mouth pressed against her own, calling forth an unknown response. Her body remembered the rippling strength of his body as his lean length supported her quivering weight. Cara stifled a groan, trying to banish her memories.

In her heart she knew that it was dangerous to remain at Weathersfield. Not only did she have the fear of discovery to contend with but also her situation was no longer safe with Edward Tallworth still in residence. After Tallworth's aborted assault in the garden she had taken particular care to avoid him. Whenever she had crossed his path, she felt his eyes burning into her. His hawklike observation warned his prey that he was just biding his time.

Yet despite all the dangers she couldn't leave. The children needed her. Cara had to admit that she had come to love them dearly. Belin was thriving under her care but she needed more time with Richard. She had won his confidence and she couldn't afford to have any changes shake the foundation of that trust. Her sudden disappearance would undo all the progress the boy had made. And he had made progress.

Both Cara and Glum had hoped that Richard would lose his fear of horses by being around the gentle little colt. But neither of them had expected the experiment to work so well. After two days Richard was running to fetch the brushes and extra feed that had been mysteriously left in other parts of the stable. Hurrying back and forth amid the normal activity of the yard the boy seemed unaffected by the presence of the other horses. On the third day Cara stumbled on her way to the box.

"Are you all right, Miss Farraday?" Richard's voice was filled with concern as he bent over the recumbent form of his governess.

"Fine, Richard. At least, I think so."

Cara stood up, shaking out her dusty skirts and brushing at the dirt on her hands. The boy stood quietly while she examined her booted foot, testing it on the oak flooring.

"There. I'm sure my ankle is perfectly sound," Cara announced staggering a little as she hobbled toward the last stall. "Perhaps if I sat down a moment. I still feel a little shaky."

The boy fluttered around her as she sat on a bale of hay, her foot propped up on a grain barrel. He was unaware of the calculating look his governess cast him under her fringe of lashes.

"Can I get you anything, Miss Farraday?"

"I don't think so, Richard. I just need a moment to catch my breath."

"You took quite a tumble. I think you ought to just sit there and rest. I could groom the colt today," Richard offered.

"I'm sure I will be fine. Besides I would be shirking my duties." Cara forced a note of wistfulness into her voice. "It's very hard work for a young lad."

"I'd try ever so hard. I've been watching you every day." Richard was desperate to convince his governess. "You could follow everything and tell me if I forget anything."

"Yes, I can see how that might work," she agreed.

In recompense for Richard's labor Cara suggested that he might like to name the colt. It had taken several days of frowning concentration before the boy was contented with a name.

"Do you think Loki would be a suitable name?" Richard asked. He rushed on before Cara could offer an opinion. "I got the idea when you were reading that Norse book. It's the name of the god of mischief. I thought it might be a good name yesterday when he butted you in the stomach."

"I see nothing funny about that incident, you loathsome child. A true gentleman would refrain from mentioning it." Cara failed to control the twitching of her lips and joined Richard as he burst into laughter.

So Loki had been named and from then on Richard took over the grooming chores while Cara lounged in the doorway or wandered through the stables talking to the other horses. After discussing possible choices she and Glum had picked out a sweet-tempered hunter for Richard's first ride. With any luck the boy could be coaxed to accompany Cara at the end of the week.

But with a sinking heart Cara acknowledged that if she gained the time to help Richard she might yet lose everything.