A Man Most Worthy

“Just a minute.” Miss Shepard’s usually polite tone held a trace of asperity.

“If I’d known you were going to give a riding lesson, I would have opted out of this excursion.”

“Well, you may still do so.”

With a sneer, Victor wheeled his horse about, causing the mare under Nick to shift. Nick couldn’t help splaying his hands on the saddle beneath him, ruining all Miss Shepard’s careful positioning.

Instead of scolding him, she immediately went to the mare’s bridle. “There, Maud, Mr. Tennent meant nothing by that. You must be patient a moment longer.” She didn’t even turn when Victor spoke to the other young lady in a loud voice.

“Come along, Lucy. They can catch up when he finally figures out how to get his horse to move.” With a snide laugh, he urged his horse forward, Lucy following behind.

Nick gritted his teeth. How he’d love the chance to show Victor a thing or two. “Perhaps this is not the right time for me to go riding.”

“Nonsense, Mr. Tennant. Victor just likes to show off. You mustn’t mind him. Now, let’s see, where were we?”

“How to get her to move.”

Miss Shepard smiled. “Right, just a very gentle contact with the horse’s mouth.” She explained some more and showed him how to bring the mare to a halt. Not until he had done so a few times was she satisfied.

“Very good.”

Before he could take any satisfaction in this small success, Miss Shepard went to her own mount, a beautiful bay mare. A groom was immediately at her side but she gave him no chance to assist her. She placed a foot in the stirrup and swung herself up in one deft move. He watched her graceful figure in a blue riding habit. She seemed perfectly at ease on her horse.

At least he needn’t be ashamed of his own appearance. The riding habit he’d borrowed—a tweed jacket, tan-colored jodhpurs, and tall boots—fit as if made for him. Even the snobby Victor had given him a keen look.

Miss Shepard turned her horse about. “Ready?”

He nodded. She conveyed the message to her horse, and with a second’s hesitation, Nick gave his own horse the command. The other riders were nowhere to be seen as they clip-clopped out of the stable yard.

Thankfully, his horse followed the other as they walked down the long, tree-lined drive that led away from the house.

Miss Shepard turned briefly to him. “We’re going to go away from the river and head uphill. The way is easy, only a gentle rise.”

Soon, they spotted the other riders farther up ahead. Nick was too busy concentrating on staying on his horse to attempt any further conversation as they rode down the lane. Before he knew it, they’d left the village behind and were among tree-studded meadows.

The tension in him began to ease as he realized his mare would keep her steady, sedate pace, and he allowed himself to enjoy the countryside. For as far as he could remember, he’d lived in the city, between its stone and brick, dirty, choking heat in summer and thick, sulfurous fog in winter.

The ride proceeded smoothly from there. Miss Shepard stayed at his side, instructing him now and again as to the proper handling of the horse.

“She pretty much knows what to do on her own. You are just her guide, to nudge her gently now and again.”

Victor rode back to them at a trot, and tried to engage Miss Shepard in conversation, but when she only answered his mocking comments in monosyllables, he rode off again, muttering about having slowed down the whole group.

Soon they could see the Thames far below them, edged in lush green foliage, small wooded islands visible here and there along its snaking course.

They continued climbing along terraced walkways. “We’ll go into the park through Sheen Gate,” she said. “I’m sure that’s the route Victor took.” A short while later they entered Richmond Park and spotted Victor and Lucy ahead. Miss Shepard quickened her horse’s pace a little, and Nick gave his own reins a slight tug to raise the horse’s head, as indicated by Miss Shepard, and tightened his knees the least bit. The horse obeyed and followed after the other one at an increased gait.

His initial fear of falling wearing off, Nick relished the faster pace. They soon caught up to the other riders.

Miss Shepard guided her horse abreast of Victor’s. “Let’s stop at Bishop’s Pond and rest a moment.”

“Had enough already?” His words were directed to Miss Shepard but he swung his gaze back toward Nick.

“No, but neither are we in any rush.” Without waiting for Victor’s answer, she slowed again until she was just ahead of Nick. She twisted in her saddle to him. “It’s a pretty spot.”

They arrived at the willow-edged pond and dismounted. Nick had another moment of uncertainty, wondering if his horse would stand still while he got down. He held the reins in one hand and swung one leg over the back of the animal. With a breath of relief, he found himself with his two feet firmly planted on solid ground.

Miss Shepard walked her horse toward him. “Let’s lead them to the pond. I’m sure they’re thirsty.” She petted Maud’s withers. “Aren’t you, dearie, after that long ride in the sun?”

The others had already left their horses at the water’s edge and were walking about the shaded glen.

Miss Shepard showed him how to remove the horse’s bit before letting them drink.

She knelt beside the water’s edge and removed her gloves. Taking a handkerchief out of her jacket pocket, she plunged it in the water. Squeezing out the excess water, she used it to wipe her forehead and cheeks. “Ah, that feels refreshing.” She grinned up at him, her rosy cheeks damp.

Without thinking, he pulled out his dry handkerchief and handed it to her, finding that around her he merely reacted instead of deliberating before an action. He envied her impulsive behavior, though she was young, not yet out of the schoolroom. His eyes traveled over her, her contours already those of a woman.

“Oh, thank you.” She took the handkerchief from him and wiped her face dry before jumping back to her feet. Refolding his handkerchief, she gave it back to him. He took it without a word. Bending down to the water, he wet it and did what she had done, squeezing it out and using it to mop his own damp forehead. The water felt cold and helped to ease the heat he felt in his face, heat that was due to more than the sun.

She took the wet handkerchief from him. “Here, we’ll spread our hankies out on this rock and they’ll be dry by the time we leave. Come, I want to show you my favorite spot.”

“What about the others?” He gestured to Lucy and Victor. Lucy sat on a boulder, fanning herself with her hat. Victor was throwing stones into the pond, causing a plopping sound with each one.

Miss Shepard shrugged. “He’s trying to scare the frogs.”

He also seemed to be ignoring Miss Shepard, for which Nick was thankful.

“Come on!” Miss Shepard urged. “We shan’t be long.”

They walked along the pond’s edge and bent down under some willows trailing their long fronds into the water. It was about ten degrees cooler in the shade.

“Isn’t it like a cave here?” The shadow and sunlight speckled her face, and he felt as if they could have been under the water, in another world.

He stared at her. Words seemed to get trapped in his throat. What was happening to him that he couldn’t form a coherent sentence?

She squatted down by the water’s edge again, this time resting her folded hands and chin on her knees. “How do you like working for my father?”

He stood beside her, observing the shadowy light on the crown of her hair. She’d tossed her hat on the ground beside her. Her hair was twisted in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, making her look older than—

“How old are you?” he asked sharply.

She jutted her fine chin out a notch. “I shall be seventeen next month.”

“Sixteen then.” His heart plummeted at the discovery of how young she truly was.

“Almost seventeen.”

He couldn’t help smiling at her insistence.