Page 71 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“I’ve nothing to wear,” she said. “I didn’t pack my riding habit.”

Justin gave her a cursory glance. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“This?” She pressed her hands to her voluminous skirts. The gray silk dress she’d donned this morning was serviceable enough for a walk, but it would never do for riding. “I’m knee deep in petticoats and crinoline.”

“I know. It’s very becoming.”

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Yes, it’s very pretty. And wholly impractical, too. I’d never be able to sit a sidesaddle in these skirts.”

Justin untied Hiran and turned him around in the aisle. The giant horse swished his tail with impatience. “A sidesaddle. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You don’t have one?”

“We don’t. There hasn’t been a lady in residence at Greyfriar’s Abbey in three decades or more.”

She followed Justin as he led Hiran out of the stable and into the yard. Danvers was gone, but the coach was still there, the dogs resting languidly beneath it. “Was Sir Oswald not married?”

Justin stopped. He looked out toward the cliffs for a moment, his eyes squinting against the sun. “No, he wasn’t married.” He paused. “He was rather a famous bachelor around these parts.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. “May I watch you exercise Hiran?”

“If you like. It’s nothing very exciting. You’d do better to go back to the house where it’s warm.”

“I’d rather stay with you.” An embarrassing admission, but an honest one. Ensconced in the Abbey, she felt safe. In Justin’s presence, she felt doubly so. He was her husband. Her protector. Now he’d returned from London, she was loath to let him out of her sight. “If you don’t mind,” she added.

“Why should I mind?”

Helena could think of several reasons. After their discussion yesterday, she’d rarely been out of his company. She’d even sat in the library, curled up in the window embrasure with a book, while he’d discussed business matters with Mr. Boothroyd. He might simply want his privacy. A few minutes alone, free from her and all of the problems she’d brought into his life.

“Here,” he said. “I’ll walk down with you.”

“You needn’t.”

He gave her an amused look. “After nearly a week of rain?” He offered her his hand.

She took it gratefully.

The path to the beach was muddier than it had been on the day of her arrival in Devon. She might have slipped and fallen had she not availed herself of Justin’s arm. Hiran had better luck. He picked his way along the path with surefooted ease. When they reached the end, he jumped from the edge down to the beach. Justin followed.

She waited for him to assist her down as he had the last time. Instead, much to her dismay, he caught Hiran by the bridle and vaulted into the saddle. He spun the horse around to face her.

“If you can manage to shed a petticoat or two, I’ll take you up with me,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“I daresay you’d enjoy it more than sitting on the sidelines watching me ride.”

“I daresay you’re right. But I’m not certain…”

“Are you frightened?” Justin asked. Hiran pranced beneath him, mouthing at the bit. “You shouldn’t be. He’s perfectly safe.”

Helena wasn’t so sure about that. Hiran was a giant brute of a horse, not at all suitable for a lady of her dimensions. “It wouldn’t be entirely proper. Me riding pillion in a day dress.”

“You won’t be riding pillion. I intend to put you up in front of me.”