The Last Eligible Bachelor - Ashtyn Newbold Page 0,40
a slope of mud, so a ride with me cannot be an excessively dreadful way to spend a morning.”
I shook my head. “My singing is only dreadful to those who hear it, not to my own ears. Though I must confess a ride with you would be slightly less dreadful than sliding down another slope of mud.” I hadn’t meant to tease him, but the moment the words escaped me I clamped my mouth shut.
“Your performance in the drawing room was one of the most delightful performances I have heard in a long while. But riding with me will be far preferable to mud, not slightly.”
I smiled before thinking better of it, turning my face away to pretend to study the passing trees. The girlish excitement that burst in my chest was uncalled for, and I pushed it away.
Mr. Hill had never been so easy to talk to, but sitting awkwardly atop a horse, covered in mud, I was somehow more confident than ever before. He had obviously not liked my behavior the day before, so then why was I not trying to maintain it? I was forgetting my purpose. I should have been complimenting him and flirting with him in the way he seemed to despise. I studied him from my elevated seat. He was peculiar. Surely he thought the same about me.
“I’m not certain a ride with you is wise. I’m afraid I have already secured Miss Downsfield’s antipathy from the morning walk I took when you happened upon me in the gardens. I—I do not wish to be the cause of any more contention between us.”
Mr. Hill had been walking briskly to keep up with the horse, but he still did not appear to be exerting himself. He kept his pace, even speeding up slightly as we came closer to Winslow House. “You are not the cause of any contention.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “It is all Mrs. Ollerton’s doing. I should never have agreed to this ridiculous plan of hers in the first place.”
I frowned. “Why did you agree?”
“You will have to wait until our ride to discover that answer. Perhaps you’ll take that in exchange instead, as a greater value than my company.” One eyebrow quirked upward.
Before I could answer, Mr. Hill directed the horse to a place near the front doors, helping me down from the saddle, then Jessie. She let her leg hover in the air, her grimace of pain displaced by her shocked grin as she met my gaze.
She had obviously enjoyed every moment of that conversation.
I had enjoyed it too, far more than I should have. My brow furrowed of its own accord, and my throat was suddenly dry. I had only been at Winslow House for a few short days…how could I survive another few weeks? How many more mistakes would I make? I needed to start mending them, starting with the grave mistake I had made today: letting myself dwell on Mr. Hill’s virtues for even a moment.
Chapter 12
I wiped the last of the mud off my forehead with the rag that one of Mrs. Ollerton’s maids had given me. I had already changed into a clean dress, and I hadn’t missed the grimace on the maid’s expression when she took away my dirty clothing to be washed. The physician had just taken his leave, declaring that Jessie’s injury was thankfully not a broken bone. Her ankle had still begun swelling, so she sat on my bed with it lifted on two pillows, watching me with a look of deep contemplation. It was not difficult to guess at what she was thinking, but I would have rather imagined she was dwelling on her own attraction to Mr. Hill than my own far too obvious attraction to him.
Her smile grew. “Are you quite flattered by Mr. Hill’s attention today?”
I turned away from the mirror, setting the dirty rag down on the vanity. “It was quite bold of him to speak so frankly with you listening,” I muttered.
“That’s one good thing about bein’ a maid. You’re permitted to be invisible.”
“I wish I could be.” I let out a long sigh, my pulse still elevated with panic. “Perhaps you should have pretended to be Sophia, and I might have been the maid. You would have done a better job of it than I have.”
“Not so,” Jessie said amid a chuckle. “I can’t talk like a lady, much less walk and eat and behave like one.”