Page 2 of Appointment in Bath

He crouched down beside her on the bank, heedless of the mud. His hand touched the lacing of her brown leather riding boot. “May I?”

No longer warm, Meg’s cheeks were positively scalding. “If you m-must.”

He deftly unlaced her boot and slipped it from her foot. His strong fingers moved gently over her stocking-clad ankle and the curve of her instep.

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“Does that hurt?” he asked.

A pained breath trembled out of her as he manipulated her foot. “Yes.”

“It’s not broken,” he said. “Only sprained, I’d guess.”

“How c-can you t-tell?”

“If it was broken, you’d be screaming right now. But you’re not.” He smiled at her, revealing a glimpse of strong, white teeth. “You’re only blushing.”

Meg could have happily melted into the mud. She knew what she looked like when she blushed. Her entire face and throat turned scarlet. When coupled with her red hair and freckles, it gave her the appearance of a ripe tomato.

“I’ve n-never fallen from a horse before,” she said. “That’s why—”

“I don’t judge.” He slid her boot back on her foot, retying the laces in a loosened bow to better accommodate her injury. “I’ve been where you are countless times.”

She gave him an uncertain look.

“In the mud,” he explained. “On my backside.” He stood and offered her his hand. “There’s no indignity in it. So long as you get back up again.”

Meg hesitated for an instant before slipping her gloved hand into his and permitting him to help her to her feet. “Oh!” A jolt of pain shot through her ankle the moment she put her weight on her right foot.

“Here. Let me.” He slid his hand around her waist. His arm was as strong as a band of iron.

Meg flushed even hotter. At eighteen years of age, she’d only recently left the schoolroom. She wasn’t formally out yet. She’d never danced with a gentleman or felt his arm at her waist.

Her heart raced and her tongue tangled over itself. She didn’t know what to say, let alone where to look.

How disappointed Miss Adams would be in her! Meg’s beloved former governess had taught Meg all she knew of how to conduct herself in company. Meg was meant to be elegant, graceful, and articulate. The very opposite, in short, of how she appeared now.

Miss Adams had departed Letchford Hall in the spring. She was soon to be married in Bath. Meg was happy for her, though not so much for herself. In Miss Adams’s absence, Meg had no companion at the Hall to keep her company. No one to leaven the dull days as one drifted inexorably into the other.

The only bright spot had been her solitary rides on Rowena. Unburdened by her governess’s insistence that she have a groom accompanying her, Meg had traversed the countryside, galloping over the moors, jumping pasture gates, and exploring the hidden trails that wove along the river. Her daily outings were her sole taste of freedom. A seemingly harmless indulgence, which had now brought her to this.

“It will be less painful once you’re in the saddle,” Mr. Beresford said, bearing her weight.

Meg doubted it. She nevertheless allowed him to assist her back to her mare. Once there, he grasped her waist in his hands and effortlessly lifted her up into her sidesaddle. It happened so quickly, she had no opportunity to object to the familiarity. Not that she would have done. She’d never have been capable of mounting Rowena without his assistance.

She clumsily hooked her knee over the pommel. “Th-thank you,” she stuttered. “Mr.—”

“Ivo Beresford,” he said. “And I know who you are. You’re Miss Burton-Smythe.” He placed her left foot into her stirrup for her. “I’d recognize that red hair and those freckles anywhere.”

Meg’s already dwindling confidence withered still further.

So much for hoping she’d changed. That the intervening years had turned her from an awkward ugly duckling into a beautiful swan.

“You remember me,” she said flatly.

“Of course, I do.” Catching hold of his stallion, he vaulted easily back up into his saddle. “You and I are meant to be enemies.”

Meg ducked her head, avoiding his gaze as she slowly gathered her reins. She was uncertain how to respond.