wouldn’t give in now.
“My riding is mediocre at best, though.” She frowned. “I wonder if Mrs. Carlton’s School would allow me to train there if I made a donation. I must say, Miss Fitzroy was the best female rider I’ve ever seen, and I do like to have the best in my life.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Aaron bit out, the mention of Sophia breaking through the last of his patience.
“Because, in my opinion, which I value rather highly, people in love are stupid.”
“I’m not in love.”
“No,” she sighed. “But you could have been. And there is something to be pitied about a man who avoids even the chance. Oh look, they’re bringing out more bacon.”
As she strode back toward the food, Aaron moved to the exit. His duty had been fulfilled. There were horses to be seen to, an open Heath to be galloped across. Maybe if he went fast enough, he could outrun Miss Hancock’s words.
Thirty-Five
What did it mean when you got everything you wanted but you still weren’t happy?
Sophia smiled on, even though her cheeks hurt and her heart wasn’t in it. It wasn’t her student’s fault that her mind and her life were muddled.
When the girl went a full round with her back straight, her skirts properly draped, and the horse in complete control, Sophia congratulated her and ended the lesson. After three weeks, Sophia was coming to understand why Mrs. Carlton had been unsure of her presence.
There wasn’t a need for her here. Nor was there any challenge to distract her from the realization that this was one more road that wouldn’t lead to the recognition she needed to start a school.
However, it was steady work with horses and riders and no audience.
Every night, she ate dinner at a table. She had a desk, paper, and time to write letters to Jonas. The bed was comfortable. Her clothes filled the drawers and pegs enough that they didn’t look empty. The other teachers were kind.
There were times she missed the exhilaration and excitement of the Heath, and she certainly missed the wide-open spaces, but here the sun would rise through the same window every morning and no one threatened to take it away.
Security was better than excitement, even if that meant this was now her home instead of a stopover on the way to something else. Bringing Rhiannon here would help.
She wrote to Jonas every day, making her weekly missive multiple pages long. Jonas’s letters, on the other hand, were far shorter and appeared to be written in a single sitting. He must be busier than she was.
She missed her brother and her horse, but both were due to arrive today. With Rhiannon she could show the girls what was really possible on the back of a horse, and then they’d all take more interest in their lessons.
Hopefully.
If not, at least Sophia could keep herself busy working with her horse.
She would suppress the niggling urge to show them she could stand on a running horse no matter how much she wanted them to drop their jaws and their attitudes.
Her student returned to the dormitory, and Sophia took the horse back to the small stable. The lack of horses meant that even though she gave several lessons a day, no girl rode more than once a week. That wasn’t enough to inspire a passion for the activity.
The horse’s hooves clomped on the dirt floor as she entered the stable, but neither of the two grooms made an appearance. “Patrick?” she called. “Robert?”
A man scurried out of the last stall to take the reins. “Apologies, Miss Fitzroy. We were admiring your horse.”
Sophia’s face broke into a smile as she hurried to the last stall, where her brother was settling Rhiannon into her new home. “Jonas!”
Glad the reunion was happening away from the serious regard of the schoolmistress and the students, Sophia threw herself into Jonas’s arms. “I’m so happy to see you.”
He hugged her tight, lifting her off the ground and tucking his face into her shoulder. “Me too, Soph.”
After lowering her to her feet, he stepped back and looked her over. “You look nice. Polished.”
She swatted his shoulder. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Not bad. Different. Are you finished for the day?”
“Yes. Let me change out of this habit, then we’ll walk to the coffeehouse. The staff dining room isn’t very private.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you a place to stay. The hotel above the—”
“I’m taken care of.” Jonas gave