Dating Mr. Darcy - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,48

reply, not shifting an inch. “I’ll say hi to her when we’re, you know, side saddling together later.”

Side saddling? Is that a thing?

I feel a hand on the small of my back. Startled, I look up into a familiar face.

Sebastian.

“I grew up with horses. Would you like me to help you?”

“I think I know how to pet a horse,” I sniff. I don’t add, “only if they’re made of plastic and small enough to pick up and put in my pocket.” Minor detail.

“Do you?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Really? Because you look terrified,” he says quietly.

“I’m not terrified,” I reply unconvincingly.

His lips stretch into a smile. “Come with me.”

With his hand still on my back, we step over toward the horse. My heart rate kicks up a notch—or ten—but I hold my resolve and stand rigidly at Marilyn’s side.

“You stroke her like this,” he says as he pets the horse on what I guess must be her shoulder. “Don’t touch her face, at least until she knows you. Despite what you see in movies, horses don’t like strangers doing that.”

I reach out and tentatively touch her coat. It’s coarse and warm, and not quite as terrifying as I imagined.

“There you are,” Sebastian says. “You are now friends.”

I let out a nervous laugh as I eye the saddle on her back. “Let’s hope.”

“You’ll be fine. Just do as you’re taught, and don’t let the animal sense your fear.”

“Well, that’ll be easy,” I reply with a sardonic smile.

“Okay, ladies. It’s time to get you on these here horses,” Russell announces.

Sebastian rubs my shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know. I got this,” I reply with about three thousand percent more confidence than I feel.

“I’m glad to hear it, Brady Bunch.”

I look up and see how soft his eyes are, how his smile lights up his entire face. And this time, when the feelings hit me, I don’t even try to fight them.

I’ve totally misjudged Mr. Darcy.

And I am so in trouble.

Chapter 16

Far too quickly, Russell hands me a helmet to wear and places a set of steps in place for me to climb up onto Marilyn’s back. Which might be a less daunting experience if I were wearing some sensible Timothy leggings and a pair of shoes designed in this century. In my full-length gown and ballet slippers it is utterly terrifying.

I secure the helmet under my chin and eye Marilyn. Her liquid brown eyes seem unfazed, and she lets out a huff as if to tell me to get on with it.

It’s now or never.

“Come stand on these here steps, Miss,” Russell instructs.

Tentatively, I climb the steps until I’m in position. I give myself a little pep talk, trying to think of all the women I’ve seen riding side saddle. I land on one. A fictitious one at that. Lady Mary from Downton Abbey. Well, if she can do it, then so can I.

And there’s no way I’m going to “entertain” the viewers by embarrassing myself once more.

I glance back at Sebastian. He throws me an encouraging smile.

Russell pets the side of the horse. “Put your left foot in the stirrup, push yourself up onto her, and hook your leg around the pommel. That’s the part that sticks out, in case y’all were wondering.”

“Pommel. Got it.” I take a breath. “Here goes nothing.” I slip my foot into the stirrup and swing myself up onto the horse. My butt in place, I hook my right leg around the pommel and settle into the saddle. My instinct—or maybe simply too much time watching Lady Mary ride her horse—tells me to lean down and collect the reins in my hands.

“You’re a natural,” Russell declares, and I think I detect a note of admiration in his voice. But then again, all I did was climb some steps and sit on a horse in a fancy dress, so I might be reading too much into it.

High atop my horse, I survey the stables and the rolling fields beyond. “This isn’t so bad.”

“It suits you,” Sebastian says.

I look down at him and reply in my best English accent, “Am I a lady of the manor now?”

“Absolutely.” His features soften as he smiles up at me, and I swear my heart skips a beat. “But I suggest you work on the accent.”

I feign offense. “Hey! I thought I sounded exactly like Lady Mary.”

He laughs, and somehow the sound reaches inside and makes my belly do a flip. “You did, if this Lady Mary were an American on a horse for the first