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CHAPTERSEVEN
The next morning,many of the guests assembled just outside the stables preparing to ride to the knoll that had been chosen for the picnic site.
Evie smoothed her hands down her riding habit as the sun shone down on them. It was near noon and the day had grown balmy.
Her mother stood next to her, unusually silent, as they waited for Lady Greenburg and the Duke of Wingate to join them.
“We can’t go without them,” her mother murmured, shifting nervously.
She glanced over at her mother, her stomach dancing with excitement. She and Evan had spent the entirety of the afternoon together. It had been beyond pleasant and she was excited to see him again today. “I’m sure they’re coming.”
Her mother gave her a sidelong glance. “I hope you’re right. You’re wearing your best habit.”
Evie looked down at the dark blue gown made of a light wool. She was overwarm in the dress but after hours of her mother’s lectures on proper attire the night before, she’d not been about to argue.
She likely should have. She just couldn’t bring herself to create more strife. It wasn’t in her nature.
But she’d also like her opinions to be considered. They mattered too. And she wasn’t wrong, the dress was likely too warm for today.
A pair came round the side of the house, Evie instantly recognizing Evan. He stood tall and straight, his jaw granite as he escorted his aunt toward them.
Her pulse quickened as she smoothed her skirts again.
He approached with a nod but passed her by, making his way toward two horses in the front. Disappointment rolled through her as everyone mounted and started for the forest path that would take them to the picnic grounds.
Of course, he couldn’t stop to chat. Everyone was waiting to leave. But she winced when Evan ended up several horses ahead of her. She lectured herself that it shouldn’t matter he’d gone ahead. She didn’t need his courtship anyhow.
But she’d never held a man’s attention before, especially not one so…arresting. And she found herself disappointed to think of that coming to an end. Had she taken a misstep without realizing? Her mother shot her a withering glance before the countess kicked her horse faster.
Truth be told, Evie would much rather walk than ride. Horseback had never been her preferred method of travel and she allowed herself to drift to the back of the group, knowing she’d be slower than most.
But as the rest of the party moved further and further away, she lost sight of them around a bend. She tried to snap the reins to get her horse moving faster but it refused. In fact, it began slowing down until the gelding just stopped. In the middle of the trail with no one in sight.
“Drat,” she mumbled. Then. “Go. Please?”
The horse did nothing and she let out an exasperated puff of air. Not even the horse listened to her.
They stood there for several minutes. Did she dismount and walk? How far was it still? And if she got down, she’d not be able to climb back up on her own. She tried again, snapping the reins, but the horse simply munched a clump of tall grass on the side of the trail.
Evie clucked her tongue, shifting uncomfortably in the saddle. What did she do?
A noise up ahead made her lift her head as a rider appeared, coming back toward her. “Evan!” she cried, waving her hand.
He trotted toward her and her ridiculous horse, his brows drawn together. “What happened?”
Looking down at her horse, she started to explain. “This silly beast refused to go.” Then with a sigh. “I’m not much of a horsewoman.”
He passed by her, turned his horse, and came to stand next to her. “Evie.” Reproach lined his voice and her head dipped.
“I know. I shouldn’t be on the animal at all—”
“I was going to say that you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” His voice was a low baritone that skittered along her skin as her chin snapped up to meet his gaze.
“What?” she asked, her breath catching as their eyes locked together.
“You give everyone else so much understanding.”
“Oh. Thank you,” she gushed, glad to not be sitting here alone, happy it was him who’d come to rescue her, and relieved to know that he seemed concerned.
