Page 75 of The Governess and the Rogue

Some of the tension in Bea’s muscles eased. That was one worry dealt with at least. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

Meg smiled. “Not at all.”

* * *

Bea sent up a silent prayer for her own safety as Maberly tossed her up into the sidesaddle. Jack came forward immediately after, supplanting his batman at the black mare’s side. He helped Bea put her foot into the stirrup as she struggled to get her other leg over the pommel.

One of the grooms was at the mare’s head, holding her bridle. The mare herself stood quiet, except for the occasional impatient strike of one steel-shod hoof against the cobblestones of the stable yard.

Bea could feel every twitch of the creature’s back as she settled herself into the saddle. “She’s excessively tall, isn’t she?” she remarked breathlessly.

“She’s fifteen hands,” Jack said. “Rather smallish.” He was dressed for riding in Bedford cord breeches and a blue broadcloth coat. “Here, take the reins. No, don’t pull on them. And don’t use them to hold on. That’s not what they’re for.”

Bea followed his instructions, all the while aware that she had absolutely no control over the animal. It was only the illusion of control. And in a borrowed riding costume besides. The dark green habit that Meg had lent her was fashionably elegant, with a smart little jacket that nipped at Bea’s waist and a heavy drape of skirts that flowed over her legs in a graceful sweep of fabric.

“Seven miles each way, did you say?” she asked as Jack went to his own horse. It was a blood bay gelding, much larger than Bea’s mount, with a wild light in its eye.

“About that much,” Jack replied.

Maberly assisted Jack into his saddle, with the aid of a wooden mounting block. Jack’s jaw was tight, his face flinching as he bent his injured leg to set his boot in the stirrup.

Bea found herself wincing in unison. “It can’t be good to bend your knee so much.”

“I’m supposed to bend it. It’s the only way it will heal properly.” Gathering the reins, Jack turned his horse toward hers. “Shall we set off?”

“Are you entirely sure it’s a good idea?” Bea asked. “What if something should happen along the way? What if you need to dismount or⁠—”

“There are grooms at the Priory stables.” Jack paused, frowning. “And Maberly is coming with us.”

Bea’s brows lifted. This was the first she’d heard of it.

Across the yard, Maberly disappeared into the stone stable block. He emerged seconds later on the back of a dun-colored horse.

“He’ll follow behind,” Jack said. “If something happens⁠—which it won’t—he’ll be on hand to assist us.”

It was a relief, though Bea was reluctant to show it. She had the impression that Jack wasn’t pleased to have his batman’s assistance. Doubtless it was a blow to his pride. He was an independent sort of gentlemen, as evidenced by his long career in the army, and his equally long period of bachelorhood. He didn’t want anyone looking after him or interfering with his life.

He circled his horse around Bea’s mare. “Loosen your reins a notch,” he told her. “And follow me.”

At first, Bea did just that, keeping a horse’s length between them as she’d once heard a riding master tell one of her young charges to do. But that was the wrong thing, apparently.

“You needn’t hang back,” Jack called to her. “Nudge her with your heel. Bring her up on my right side.”

“So close?”

“We can ride two abreast for most of the way. The horses won’t object. Copper and Nightshade are old friends.”

“Very well.” Bea pressed her heel against Nightshade’s side. The mare picked up her pace, advancing quickly to walk alongside her stablemate.

Jack’s mouth tipped at one corner. “Not so difficult, is it?”

Bea huffed. “Speak for yourself.”

“I won’t say it’s particularly easy at present, but I’ll get there again, never fear.”

“You love riding as much as the rest of your family?”

“The Cavalry would have been a dreadful trial if I didn’t.”