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The butler came and announced that the horses were ready. With a brief kiss on his mother’s cheek, Nathan rose. His eyes never left Miss Hughs as she followed the group, but before he could maneuver himself closer, a hand on his arm stayed him in the hall. He turned to see Thurmont, who gave him a pleading look. Nathan rose an eyebrow as the rest of the group shuffled out, leaving them alone in the hall. “Are you quite alright?”
“My God, man, you must help me.” Thurmont flicked a quick, panicked glance to the door before looking back at him. “I fear she plans to follow me around for the rest of the day.”
Amused by his friend’s silly distress, Nathan gave him a soothing smile. “Miss Russel? For a moment, I thought something was actually wrong. Don’t scare me like that.”
Thurmont shook his head. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, what with you mooning after Miss Hughs.”
“There’s that word again. I am not ‘mooning’.” Mostly.
But Thurmont ignored the reply. “You must help me. Derry was supposed to be here for me to hide behind, but he wandered off to god knows where, and Kirkwood is hiding in the damn library again.”
“And Lockhart?” The baron had been sulking in the corner of the parlor for the entirety of breakfast, glaring daggers at Miss Balfour as she spoke to a young gentleman whose gentry family neighbored Thurmont and had been invited to the ride.
“He’s determined to succeed with Miss Balfour and declared he could be of no aid, being busy with his own scheme to follow the lady around for the day.”
Nathan sighed. “So you want me to take your attention during the ride and prevent any openings for Miss Russel to sidle up beside you?”
Thurmont smiled and nodded. “Precisely.”
The earl truly had no one to turn to, and if Miss Russel genuinely made the man so uncomfortable as to resort to such methods, then Nathan would be a terrible friend to leave him to his suffering. That did, of course, mean that he wouldn't be able to spend time with Miss Hughs. “Dammit, fine,” he said with an exasperated grumble. “But be prepared for hard riding. We can leave Miss Russel behind.” And Miss Hughs, much to his disappointment.
Thurmont gave him a hearty clap on the arm, his tense shoulders easing. “I’ll repay for the favor, Milton. Thank you, truly.”
“You better,” he grumbled back, his plans for Miss Hughs entirely in disarray. He could only hope the woman didn’t think he was avoiding her on purpose.
* * *
“Well, isn’t this just perfect?” Arabella grumbled as another rumble of thunder rolled across the cloudy sky. She peered around the mossy forest, hoping that one of the myriad trails branching off from hers would be familiar. The ride had been fast-paced, and Arabella had strayed well behind the group for most of the day. At one point, she’d stopped to admire the scenery, which had been a colossal mistake, as by the time she was finished, the group had gotten far enough away that she’d been unable to discern where they’d gone. Thinking that they’d perhaps rode into the forest, Arabella had chosen one trail and hoped for the best. She should have turned around long after realizing how lost they were, but, stupidly, she’d assumed that the path would double back, eventually.
‘Assumptions are dangerous things, child.’Lord Drummel’s words echoed in her ears, one of the few times her father had deigned to pay her any mind. Far preferring his clubs over his wife and daughters, she rarely saw him outside of breakfast, wherein he hid behind a newspaper in a silent order to ignore his presence. As much as their relationship had strained over the years, Arabella still pitied her mother for being stuck with such a disinterested spouse, one who’d almost completely ignored her once it became apparent no sons would come about.
A droplet of rain struck her nose, and Arabella cursed aloud. “Aren’t you supposed to know the way home?” she grumbled to her horse, an old doddering mare suited to her lackluster riding capabilities. The mount lowered her head to munch on some grass in response, and Arabella gave her an affectionate pat on the neck with an exasperated sigh. She would need to hurry before the inevitable downpour began. No doubt it would take a while for anyone to realize she was missing. She had been relegated to the back after all, and Caroline wasn’t in attendance. Still, the thought that not a single rider in the party had noted her absence stung. Of course nobody would, she reminded herself. Cecily had been downright accosted by Lord Lockhart, whilst Mrs. Parson had been busy minding Miss Russel, whom seemed determined to spend the entire afternoon mooning after Lord Thurmont to an almost embarrassing degree. The earl and Milton had galloped on even farther ahead of the already speedy group, making her wonder if it had been a ploy to avoid poor Miss Russel. It was entirely reasonable that she might be overlooked. And yet, no matter how many rational explanations her brain conjured up, the mild burn of tears persisted with the knowledge that she was well and truly on her own and unimportant enough for no one to take notice.
“Calm, Arabella. You are being ridiculous.” Self pity would get her nowhere. Best to focus on the warm cup of tea and quiet sketching that awaited her once she found a way out of the forest. As if fate itself were mocking her, the small drops that had begun sprinkling the forest grew heavier and more frequent until the skies opened up to let loose a horrid downpour. She jumped with a shriek as a clap of lightning slammed into a nearby tree, bathing the area in a violent flash of white. Before she could even get her wits about her, the horse reared up with a startled cry and Arabella went tumbling to the ground. She took a bracing gulp of air as her back smacked into the dirt, but had thankfully missed the jagged rocks peppering the little-used trail. She laid there a moment to catch her breath, listening to the distant sounds of her mare’s thundering hooves as the beast fled. “What am I even doing here?” she mused quietly to herself, closing her eyes as a stray tear mingled amongst the rain.
Despite the icy water pelting her face and the mud seeping into her clothes, it was an oddly peaceful moment. It was just her, sprawled in the soft mud, and the tranquil patter of rain against the leaves. For a moment, she forgot everything; her lackluster seasons, the disdain of the Ton, even whatever disaster was brewing with Milton. Was it her, or was her brain conjuring up his voice? She could almost swear to hear his lilting tenor through the fog of her mind.
“Oh, my dear Milton,” she said with a giggling sigh.
“Yes, it’s me, darling. Can you open your eyes?” The voice pierced the fog, warm hands cupping her cheeks as she obeyed the request. Milton’s face came into view, eyes were wide with terror and mouth pursed as he surveyed her person. His hair stuck to his face most becomingly, she thought nonsensically before reality hit.
“Wait, you are actually here?” She glanced about, but winced at a piercing ache in her skull. The forest was dim, the afternoon light fading into dusk. “I was unconscious,” she realized. Perhaps her head had hit a rock after all.
“I thought you were dead when I found you sprawled on the ground. You were so still.”
“You were looking for me?” She peered up at his relieved face, the heat of his palms seeping into her cheeks. It made her realize how cold she was, and she shivered.
“I’ve been searching this forest for the past two hours.”
“You were looking for me from the beginning?” She said faintly, warmth bubbling in her chest. “I didn’t think anyone noticed I was missing.”
“Of course I’d notice. I’m aware of you at all times, Arabella.” A feeling emerged within her, something aching, something familiar, something that terrified her to no end. Another crack of thunder sounded before she could respond, though it was likely only one of many that had sounded off in the time she’d been unconscious. What a miracle to have slept through such a tempest.
“We need to get you out of here before you freeze to death.” He removed his palms, much to her dismay, and cradled her head in one hand. “Can you sit up?”
“I think so,” she said with a wince. She pushed herself up with her palms, focusing on the task in order to forget the tempestuous feelings his presence was stirring within her.
He shrugged off his coat. “It’s nearly soaked through but better than nothing.”
