A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,68
Church together at Oxford. You know him?”
“I do not, but I’ve met his wife. She was quite lovely.” Selina tried not to think about the fact that Harry had attended Oxford. It wasn’t surprising, and as a former barrister, he was rather well educated. She felt utterly deficient beside him. A beggar and a fraud. She shifted uncomfortably.
“She is indeed,” Harry said. “How did you meet?”
“At a gathering of the Spitfire Society.”
He drove them through the park, and Selina saw two grooms with a pair of horses up ahead. “Ah, that group of women—what do they do exactly?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but I hope to find out at our next meeting.” As Harry drew the gig to a stop, she asked, “Why are there two grooms?”
“Jakes is here to watch over my gig during your lesson. I was going to do it, but Trask thought I should ride with you.”
“Of course you should.” Selina didn’t think she could have done it if he wasn’t with her.
He grinned at her. “It’s so nice to be wanted.”
“You are.” The words slipped from her mouth before she knew she meant to say them. She did want him—and not just as a riding instructor or a lover. He made her feel wanted too. And safe. It was a strange and heady sensation.
Harry hopped out of the gig and came around to help her down. Jakes, a young man with ink-dark hair and round cheeks, took over the management of the vehicle, and Harry thanked him for doing so.
“Good morning,” Harry said to Trask as they approached the horses.
“’Morning, Mr. Sheffield.” Trask inclined his head, then turned to Selina. He offered her a bow. “My lady.”
It had taken some time for Selina to grow used to being called “my lady,” and she still wasn’t sure she liked it. But then everything felt wrong of late—except Harry. “Good morning, Trask.”
The groom pulled the hat tight onto his head as he straightened. In his fifties, he had a grizzled appearance, as if he’d seen a great many things, and not all of them pleasant. He also had a twinkle in his blue eyes and a fan of creases from their edges that indicated he had a sense of humor. Selina relaxed a little.
“Mr. Sheffield says you are new to riding, so I suggested he review the fundamentals, such as whether you’ve ever talked to a horse.”
“Trask thinks that’s critically important,” Harry said with a touch of humor.
Selina smiled, looking from Trask to Harry. “Yes. I know how to drive.”
“I didn’t know that.” Harry raked her with an appreciative glance.
“What will I be learning today?” Selina asked Harry.
“How to mount. Then we’ll take a walk. How does that sound?”
“Like just enough.” She let out a high-pitched laugh.
Harry came toward her and lightly touched her back. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered. “Come meet Hyacinth.”
He walked with her to the horse who bore the sidesaddle. Smaller than Harry’s mount, she possessed warm eyes that seemed to reflect her docility.
Selina paid close attention as Harry explained the saddle and how it differed from a men’s saddle. Already, she decided this was another area in which women were given short shrift.
“You’re sure it’s not a problem that I’m not wearing a riding habit?” She didn’t have one, of course. Nor did she have money to have one made, which was just another thing that weighed on her mind. This deception was getting harder and harder to support. And she was frankly losing her will to do so.
Harry gave her a reassuring smile. “It may be a little snug, but it will do. Ready to mount?”
She nodded, and Harry moved his hand to clasp her waist. The connection jolted straight to her core, reminding her of the more intimate ways he’d touched her yesterday. She resisted the urge to press back against him.
“You’re going to put your left foot in the stirrup there.” He pointed with his free hand. “I’m going to lift you. Then you’ll swing your right leg up and bend it around the pommel.” He gestured to the round protrusion at the front of the saddle.
“What if Hyacinth moves?”
“She won’t, but Trask will be holding the lead. You’re quite safe.”
Selina exchanged a look with the groom, who had a firm grip on the lead rope. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Put your hands up on the saddle to help lift your body. Ready?” Harry spoke near her ear, and she tried not to think of how close his lips were.
“Yes.”
Both of his