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Even if Honoria had secured the attention of one annoyingly handsome Dr. Timothy Marbry.
* * *
Timothy had about enoughof Nash. He edged his horse forward, hoping to take the lead so he wouldn’t have to watch him flirting with Priscilla. “If we’ve finished with the tomfoolery, I suggest we get on with our ride.”
“My, my,” Nash whispered, barely loud enough for Timothy to hear as he moved parallel to Nash’s mount. “One would think you’re jealous, Marbry. You seem inordinately fascinated with Miss Pratt. Yet, aren’t you supposed to be courting Lady Honoria?”
Biting back the comment, partly because there was truth in Nash’s accusation, and partly because he didn’t want to exacerbate his already sour mood by getting into an argument, Timothy ignored the jab.
Although, he found the idea of planting Nash a facer most appealing.
Nash raised his voice for his next taunt. “And they callmea cad.”
The anger bubbling just beneath the surface burst forth, and Timothy jerked on the reins of his mount, pulling the horse around with such force, the horse bucked, then stumbled into Priscilla’s mount.
Frightened, the poor beast took off like a shot, becoming nothing more than a gray blur and taking Priscilla with it. Heads from everyone around turned at the scream she emitted. Horses and riders scattered to the side, giving her a wide berth.
Fear lanced through him, not unlike the time he came face-to-face with an enemy’s bayonet. Priscilla must have relaxed her hold on the reins, for they’d slipped from her fingers. She leaned precariously forward in the saddle, trying to gain purchase and recapture them.
The jaunty blue bonnet flew off her head, sending her blond curls flying unrestrained.
Before Timothy had the perspicacity to react quickly, Nash kicked his mount into action, riding furiously to catch up. But Timothy was not to be outdone by Nash’s show of bravado.
Heels of his boots jabbed mercilessly into his horse’s sides and he followed suit. Nash may have had the ability to perform audacious stunts to impress the ladies, but Timothy had the faster horse. Of that, he was certain.
Plus, Timothy was leaner than Nash, who outweighed him by about a stone.
Pushing his horse to the limit, he soon found himself neck and neck with Nash as if they were racing for a prize. Timothy supposed they were—the award being gratitude for rescuing Miss Pratt.
They split apart, riding on opposite sides alongside Priscilla’s gray. Unfortunately for Timothy, the dangling reins seemed to wave toward Nash’s black gelding on the left.
But rather than reach for them, with one hand holding the reins of his own mount, Nash reached out to Priscilla with his free hand. “Miss Pratt. Lean toward me.”
She hesitated a moment, and she turned toward Timothy. Terror widened her blue eyes.
Arrogance filled Timothy that she would seek him for her salvation rather than Nash, who had the advantage. And to prove the saying true, pride went before Timothy’s fall.
Nash called out to her again. Once he regained her attention, he wrapped the reins around his wrist and, using both hands, plucked her from her saddle, settling her on his lap.
With Priscilla safe, Nash slowed his horse, but Priscilla’s riderless mount continued on. Rather than admit he’d been completely ineffectual, Timothy maneuvered around to the other side of the gray and grabbed hold of the dangling reins, finally pulling the horse to a halt.
As he turned both animals around, the sight of Priscilla’s arms around Nash’s neck drove home the one cruel fact to Timothy.
Jealousy bloomed in his chest.
CHAPTER 19—THE GARDEN PARTY
How are things progressing, Miss Pratt?” Honoria's lips curved in a shy smile over her glass of lemonade.
Unlike so many others who could have asked the same question, Honoria appeared completely without guile. Her efforts to assist Priscilla in finding a suitable husband had been tireless.
“Nothing new to report, I’m afraid,” Priscilla answered truthfully, and honestly, the lack of progress was a relief.
“Lord Nash’s gallantry was most admirable. Has he not called further?”
Priscilla shook her head. No loss there, either. Even Nash—who was decidedly preferable to Mr. Ugbrooke—held little appeal for her, if nothing more than the simple fact he was not Timothy.
Honoria’s smile faded. “Well, it was only a few days ago. Perhaps he’ll be in attendance today.”
