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~ One ~
LADY ELIZABETH, KNOWN to her friends as Bess, took a high stock fence and nearly lost her top hat. She straightened it on her head of black, windswept hair while still in motion and looked behind for her partner to keep up. How she loved this, being almost a part of her horse and racing through the woods. It made her feel glorious and eased her restlessness. She was always so restless.
She smiled to herself and shouted into the wind, “Donna, you wretch! Hurry!”
Bess saw that Donna was still not encouraging full speed from her horse, and she shouted again as she took the next fence flying.
She landed on the other side and slowed her horse to wait for her friend to do the same. Instead, Donna slowed her horse to a lope before sedately, but in good form, taking her fence and pulling up to a trot beside Bess.
Bess’s horse, still excited, pranced beneath her, wanting to run, but Bess slowed her mare long enough to catch her breath and complain, “Why are you lagging? You know we need to be at full speed if we are to win, child.” This last was a lifelong tease between them.
Donna shook her head of auburn waves, somewhat disheveled beneath her top hat, and said, “Child, is it? I will have you know that a married lady has a superior place in society!” With that she stuck out her tongue and laughed. “Child, indeed!” And then she added, “We passed the marker—I have been trying to tell you.”
“Married or no, I have an entire year on you, child.” Bess wagged a finger as she turned her horse about. She shook her head. “You are just a madcap child bride. Now come on, and this time, put some neck into it.”
So saying, Bess urged her horse forward, led her friend to the fork in the trail, and with a whoop of laughter set her pace at the next fence, taking it easily, lightly, and in beautiful form. “That is how it should be done,” she told her friend from the other s
ide as her horse pranced, obviously ready to move off.
Donna followed suit and grinned with pleasure as she bantered, “But if we were on fox, which is what we are supposed to be paced for, we wouldn’t go neck or nothing.”
“Yes, I know, but the men don’t mean for us to win. So they told us to pace for a fox, not a deer, but I don’t trust them. They can’t have women beat their time, now can they?” Bess said and laughed.
“Yes, oh Bess, yes, you are quite right.” Dawning lit in Donna’s hazel eyes.
“They told us the truth but don’t mean to abide by the rules—at least that is my opinion. A hunter pace it may be, but they are pitting themselves against us.”
“Odious cheaters,” Donna exclaimed.
Bess laughed. “Right then, their tricks may take them to the devil—as we race in and take the ribbon. Come on then, let’s ride!”
The remaining course took them through plotted fields, with ribbons showing the way, and over a stream they took as swiftly as they were able, though doing so got them thoroughly splashed.
They laughed as they approached the last fence and headed for the finish line, where they could see members of their local hunt gathered and shouting them on.
It was a thrilling moment, and Bess felt suspended in time as she cooed to her mare and softly urged her on, asking her for that last bolt of energy. She knew her horse was only just beginning to feel fatigued and still had that last bit to give her as they moved into an open gallop.
“Heart, Missy,” she told her mare. “You have so much heart, and you will have a wonderful rub down and all the grass you can eat in your lovely pasture when we are done.”
They sailed over the last fence, with Donna and her horse close behind as they rode hard past the crowd to the finish line.
“That’s my girls!” shouted an exuberant male voice as a tall, husky, attractive man with a top hat askew over a mat of long, light brown hair rushed forward to take Donna’s reins.
Donna whooped in a very unladylike way and threw her tall and substantial self into her husband’s arms. “Weren’t we wonderful, my lord husband?”
“Robby, what was our time?” Bess demanded as she dismounted and rushed to him. She turned as she found her elbow taken by her father, the Viscount of Saunders, a wide smile spread across his attractive face as he regarded her. “Hello, Papa—how did we do?”
“One hour and ten seconds. I think,” Robby said happily as he dropped a kiss on his wife’s gloved hand.
Bess looked at her father and beamed. “That is good, isn’t it?”
Her father pinched her chin and shook his head. “We’ll see, madcap, we’ll see.” He eyed the scoreboard in the distance and said, “While it is better than good, I am not certain you beat Wesley and Thames. They didn’t take off until a good ten minutes after you and still have to come in.”
“Oh dear,” Donna cried, sounding worried. “I thought we flew over the course. I can’t believe anyone could have done it faster.”
“Aye, I agree, and this a hunter pace, yet everyone seemed determined for speed rather than style.” The viscount laughed.
“I know—I told Donna no one gives a monkey about the hounds chasing a fox!” Bess said, annoyed.
“Right then, the more time goes by before those two come in the better it looks for our girls,” Robby said in aside to the viscount.
All at once, everything—her father and friends chattering, the noise of the crowd in the background all jesting and having a good time, even the sound of the crows screaming overhead—was suspended.
All sound was obliterated in a world that had gone totally blank. Suddenly for Bess nothing else existed, for she could see one thing—hear only one thing.
A man, like no other.
He strode towards them purposely, with self-assurance and composure. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his shiny black hessian boots. His shoulders were wide, his height, tall—taller than most—and Bess felt her heart thump dangerously. But riveting her in place was the aura that seemed to glow all around him, an aura that reached out and made her his.
He moved in a world of his own—a commanding world that sucked up all the space near him.
He was masculine and yet fashionable in his riding coat, and beneath his top hat blonde hair fell in silky waves. As he got closer, she saw that his eyes were the finest shade of blue she had ever seen.
She felt suspended in time as she watched him approach.
Robby broke the spell of the moment as he exclaimed excitedly, “John, you old dog! You made it!” He went forward, hand extended, and carelessly dropped the reins of his wife’s horse.
“Robby!” Donna objected as her steed wandered off. She went chasing after it, adding under her breath, “Men.”
Bess, who had left her horse with her father, helped her round up the frisky gelding, laughed, and said, “Yes, but such men.”
Donna turned and looked from her to the new arrival. “Rather,” she said with a wink.
“Yes, indeed, but, Donna … who is he?” She peeked another look towards the handsome man jesting with her father and Robby.
