The American Bride - By Karla Darcy Page 0,47

orders, behaving neither sullenly or toadylike. Julian retrieved his boots and jacket. Waving and calling his goodbyes he strolled to his horse tethered to a nearby bush.

The children were slightly downcast by Julian's abrupt departure but Cara herself was relieved. Replacing her stockings and half boots, she praised both of them on their progress in the water. By the time the children were reasonably dry, Belin was once again chattering and Richard was badgering Cara with more questions about the Indians, a subject that consumed the greater part of his interest in the Americas.

After their morning of exercise the children fell on the food at lunch with great enthusiasm. Cara was delighted with the boisterous discussions of the children, remembering the halting conversations at the beginning of her stay. She realized that her days as governess would soon end. Another week and a half at most, she thought, surprised at the jolt of disappointment she felt. Perhaps she was enjoying herself so much because she was free of all responsibility except for the well being of the children. Of her marital responsibilities she would rather not dwell.

When the luncheon was finished Cara sent Belin to Mrs. Clayton for her needlework lesson. She eyed Richard who was engrossed in reading a history book. His shaggy curls were mussed as he ran an absent hand through them. Cara bit her lip in perturbation, opening her mouth several times in an attempt to speak, then snapping her lips shut in indecision. She wondered if she were pushing Richard too quickly. There was so little time left that she felt pressured to at least make an attempt. After all the boy could only refuse and then she would just have to try a new tack.

"Richard?" Cara began nervously.

"Yes, Miss Farraday."

Looking up from the book he was reading, Richard put a finger between the pages to save his place. He waited as his governess hesitated in phrasing her words.

"I wonder if you could help me?"

"If I can," the boy replied politely.

Cara cleared her throat before she could continue. "I talked to Glum yesterday and he said he thought I ought to ride again."

The tensing of the boy's hands on the edges of the book were the only visible sign of his uneasiness. Ashamed of her own subterfuge, Cara flushed with discomfort and threw herself into a chair across from the boy.

"I can't do it alone," she blurted out. "Could you come with me?" she finished lamely. She wrung her hands, anguished to think that all the planning she and Glum had done might be for nothing.

Mistaking her discomposure for fear, Richard leaped to his feet. He threw down the book and stood manfully in front of her, a slim blushing protector.

"Of course I'll come, Miss Farraday," he announced to the startled woman. Then continuing in a surprisingly adult tone, "I've been wanting to suggest it but I wasn't sure if I...I mean, if you were ready."

The boy was delighted by the ravishing smile his governess bestowed on him. For one awkward moment he almost thought she was going to hug him. On his way to his room he reflected that it might not be such an awful thing if Miss Farraday did. At first her looks had been rather off-putting but now that he knew her better he rather thought she had moments when she was downright pretty. He was glad she hadn't gone all mushy like a lot of ladies he had met. After all, a fellow of his years didn't relish being pawed over by some overly scented lady. Of course that couldn't apply to Miss Farraday. He had noticed early on, that she smelled like a garden in summer. Lots of clean smells with a little bit of spice, he thought. Putting the finishing touches to his riding habit he acknowledged that Miss Farraday was a right one, as Pennyfeather would say.

After Richard left, Cara flew to the bellrope and then scribbled a note to Glum apprising him of Richard's consent. She was excited beyond belief as she hurried to change clothes. After nearly being caught by Julian she had abandoned the dove gray habit and, choosing one of the dismal brown tweed dresses in her meager wardrobe, she had resewn it for riding. She made a wry face as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was far from flattering, bunching around her waist like a sack. The color vied with the natural beauty of her skin, giving