Page 14 of Dare it all for Love

“Yes. I’m a proficient rider, I assure you.”

Henry nodded and went to turn away.

“Won’t you help me up, please?” she said quickly, not about to let the opportunity slide.

He stopped and Florence stared back at him, challenge in her eyes. Something stirred in those hazel depths, and she felt her pulse quicken as a smile played at the corners of his mouth. There was something predatory in that not–quite-smile and Florence swallowed, a little less sanguine now. She stood, waiting for him, assuming he would make a step of his hands to help her up, as was usual. He did not. Instead, he strode towards her, grasped her by the waist, and tossed her into the saddle.

Florence squealed and grasped the horse’s mane to steady herself. Not that she was in danger of falling as his large hands still gripped her waist.

“I’m so sorry, did I startle you?” he asked, all innocence, the rat.

Doing her best to catch her breath, Florence made a performance of checking her hat was in place and gathered up the reins.

“Not at all. Thank you, Mr Stanhope,” she said, irritated to discover she was breathless.

“You’re welcome, Miss Knight,” he said, smirking a little.

Florence relaxed. At least now he would walk away and see to his own mount. She hooked her leg over the fixed head of the side saddle but instead of walking off, Henry hiked up her skirts to reveal her ankles and made it his business to place her supporting foot in the stirrup.

“Mr Stanhope!” she hissed in outrage. “I am perfectly capable of arranging…”

He looked up at her and the words died in her throat. His hand rested on her ankle still, the warmth of it burning her even through the soft leather of her ankle boot. There was a look in his eyes that made her want to leap down from the horse again and press her mouth to his. Her stomach got that peculiar fluttery sensation that always began when he was near, and she prayed no one was looking, for she was certainly blushing. At last he dragged his gaze from hers and was suddenly all business, tugging her skirts into place to cover her ankles.

“Enjoy the ride, Miss Knight,” he said curtly, and walked away.

Good heavens.

By the time they set out, Florence had composed herself once more, though she could not keep her eyes from Henry, who seemed to be making a project of staying as far from her as possible once again. This time, however, the thought made her smile. He was not indifferent to her. The look in his eyes earlier had shown her that, which meant he was avoiding her for an entirely different reason.

Except… he’d said he’d been unkind to her because she reminded him of someone else, someone who must have hurt him very badly. Had that been the reason he’d left England all those years ago? Had a broken heart driven him away? If that were the case, then had that look been for the woman he’d loved before, perhaps loved still? Or had it been for her?

“You look very serious.”

Florence looked up to see Vivien’s twin brother, Ash, regarding her with interest. She smiled at him warmly. Ash was a good friend and she liked him very much. She trusted him too, so….

“Ash, do you know anything about Mr Stanhope?”

Ash shrugged, giving her a quizzical glance. “Not really. I mean, I saw him now and then before he left the country, but I was only a boy then.”

Florence nodded. “But have you heard anything, about why he left, I mean? Was… Was there a broken love affair?”

Ash frowned, considering this. “Yes, now you mention it. Wasn’t he jilted by his fiancée? Yes, that’s it. She eloped with some titled fellow instead, just days before they were due to wed.”

“Oh,” Florence said, her heart aching. If that were true, Henry would not only have been heartbroken, but he’d also have been mortified. It was the kind of blow a young man’s pride would struggle to recover from. “Do you know who the lady was?”

Ash shook his head. “You be better off asking your mother. She’d know.”

Florence nodded, having no intention of asking Mama. She was far too perceptive, and Florence did not want her putting a spoke in her wheel if she did not approve the match. Far better it were a foregone conclusion. Florence turned back to Ash, discomforted to discover he was watching her with interest.

“Something to tell me, Flo?” he asked, lifting one dark eyebrow. His golden skin glowed in the sunlight, his thick black hair tousled and gleaming blue like a crow’s wing.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, striving for nonchalance.

“Oooh, I see it,” he said, giving a low chuckle. “You’ve a tendre for him.”

“No, I….” Florence began, and then gave up with a huff. “Well, perhaps I do.”

Ash grinned at her. “I knew it.”