Mrs. Archer, too, was wearing a version of the uniform. But in her, it was practical, even masculine, while Celeste looked straight out of a midsummer wet dream.
“The trousseau hasn’t arrived, so we improvised, my lord,” the chaperone said.
Hawk dragged a hand down his face, forcing his expression to be neutral. His fingers flexed, itching to adjust the collar settling against Celeste’s delicate neck.
Hawk grunted. “I’ll take over Lady Cecilia’s lessons.”
The chaperone’s gaze flicked to Celeste—a mother hen defending her charge. In any other instance, he would not tolerate insubordination. Still, he liked to see that Celeste had already made a conquest of the stern woman.
Celeste nodded, and Mrs. Archer gave him a salute and whirled on her heels.
They both watched as she left. Hawk almost called her back.
Right.
He looked into Celeste’s eyes, and his throat went dry. What the hell could he say to her? He turned words over in his mind like ill-fitting gears—nothing settled into place.
If she had been a recruit, he’d have barked something brisk.You held the line, didn't you? That's all that matters. I'm bloody proud of you.
But Celeste was no boy in uniform, and the memory of yesterday still burned raw.
I'm sorrydidn’t cover it.
You were braverang hollow—too thin for what she had endured.
He wanted her to know she was safe, and that she could trust him.
Clearing his throat, he caught Celeste’s dainty hand in his. “About yesterday—”
“Yesterday seems like the distant past, my lord,” she said, her chin wobbling. “Why would anyone wish to speak about it when we are about to ride over this gorgeous countryside?”
Hawk tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Sometimes the fastest horse can't outrun our problems.” He should know. His stables were full of champions, and still, trouble kept pace.
She bit her lip, gaze dropping to the tops of her boots.
“Then I shall ride sidesaddle, my lord. Problems can’t cling so tightly when one only offers them half a seat.”
Hawk exhaled and stepped back. If she didn’t want to talk about it, he would respect that. He was never much of a talker. And he already had a plan.
“Sidesaddles are impractical if not downright dangerous. When you ride with me, you will do it astride.” The moment the words left his mouth, he cursed the image they conveyed.Thankfully, Celeste didn’t have the power to read his thoughts. Only to scramble them.
“Astride? What a radical notion. Next, you’ll be encouraging me to take up fencing.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” If only to teach her to defend herself. Or spear him with a blade and end his misery.
Celeste let out a laugh, light and unexpected. “What a terrifying prospect. I should most likely skewer myself before I ever touch an opponent.”
Hawkhurst exhaled. “Right. We will focus on keeping you in the saddle first.”
She tilted her head, considering. “Will you be riding with me, my lord?”
“Of course.”
Her brows lifted in mock surprise. “And here I thought you would merely shout commands from a safe distance.”
“If I did that, you’d be in a ditch before the first turn.”
She hummed, thoughtful. “Then I shall take comfort in knowing you will be right there, should I need rescuing.”
