The Last Eligible Bachelor - Ashtyn Newbold Page 0,36
into my stumbling, stammering, shy behavior that had first caused Mr. Hill to notice me and tease me the way he had. But today he did not seem inclined to tease me, at least not with his usual frequency. Instead, he stared down at me as if I were a riddle or a poem to be deciphered and studied again and again.
“You should not be embarrassed, Miss Sedgwick. I am simply glad you did not also suffer any injury.” A smile tugged his mouth upward. “Aside from the injury to your pride.”
“Indeed.” I looked down, pressing my lips together. Was it mud I tasted at the corner of my mouth? I grimaced, using the one clean spot on the front of my glove to wipe it off. “I don’t believe I have any pride left.” I watched the ground, unwilling to meet his sharp blue eyes for a moment longer. It had begun doing strange things to my heart.
“You seemed to have a great deal of it yesterday.” He raised one eyebrow.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he began backing away, casting me a questioning glance before approaching Jessie. He took the reins in one hand, guiding his horse back toward the path. “Do you ride, Miss Sedgwick?” he asked over his shoulder.
It had been years since I had mounted a horse, but it was a skill Papa had ensured that I learn. I felt fairly confident, so I nodded. “Well enough, I suppose.”
He waved me forward. “If you share the mount with your maid it may be easier to control the horse. I will walk alongside to ensure he behaves.” He patted the horse’s side.
“Oh, no, perhaps I should walk.”
He stopped the horse, stepping toward me. “You have been through a great ordeal.”
“I believe you have been through the greater ordeal, helping Jessie out of the mud and lifting her onto the horse.” I widened my eyes for emphasis. “It is no great task for me to walk.” My head pounded with a returning headache. The walk was long, but frankly the thought of Mr. Hill coming near enough to me to help me onto that horse set my palms perspiring.
“I can see that you are tired,” he said. “I must insist that you ride. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I watched you walk all the way home.”
I let out a puff of air, suddenly frustrated. I was more frustrated at myself than at Mr. Hill, but my words could not be stopped, nonetheless. “Nor would you be a gentleman if you didn’t respect my wish to walk.” My voice snapped like a whip. I clamped my mouth closed. I had not meant to be so curt, but my exhaustion had caught up to me. All my efforts from the day before had been for nothing. I had still managed to find myself in this situation with Mr. Hill when I was meant to be avoiding him and driving him away. How could I have let this happen? Each of my failures here reminded me of my failure to keep Papa out of prison. It was my fault. I blinked back sudden tears, fighting to keep them from showing.
Mr. Hill’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise before lowering in concern. Had he seen the moisture in my eyes? I hadn’t looked down quickly enough. His boots moved closer. I watched the mud-covered leather with growing unease. “If you wish to walk, then you may walk. I will offer one last time.”
I met his gaze after blinking away my tears, fighting the knot in my throat. I had turned into a watering pot of the most detestable sort. I had resolved myself never to cry in front of anyone, and I would not break that promise to myself. Mama was strong, and so I needed to be too. Crying would not solve any problem in the world. It would not take me away from Bibury, and it would not bring Papa home. It would not undo the mistakes I had made, nor would it prevent further mistakes. Crying in front of Mr. Hill would be the greatest mistake I could ever make. He would see that I was not as hard and unfeeling as I had pretended to be.
Shame flooded my cheeks over my blunt reply. I couldn’t refuse his offer now. “Very well. I will ride. And I thank you for the kind offer, and for being so kind to Jessie.” I swallowed. There. I had said it.