Page 17 of The Gentlewoman Companion

She disapproved, yet he wanted her understanding. “What have you against it?”

“Nothing at all. I’m sure your father was a fine man, but if I agreed with my father on everything, I’d be married to a man twice my age.”

Though not a parallel argument, her words snagged at his doubt. Yet, who was she to question his judgment? He’d never considered himself a blind follower, but the idea of voting against his party, his own father, made him shift in his saddle. Or did his discomfort stem from the truth she spoke? Members of parliament often profited from their votes, and—as he’d learned from studying his father’s papers—his family was no exception.

“Why the creased brow?” Miss Thorpe asked, grinning. “Look how well I ride.” She let go of the reins and turned her palms up.

A bush to Miss Halverton’s left suddenly rustled and cracked. Daisy stepped back, shaking her head and stomping. The horse bolted and Miss Thorpe leaned forward. “No! No, no, no!”

“Take the reins! Pull to your left!” Halverton barked, but she was clutching Daisy’s mane. “Take the leads!” He gave Goliath his head, trying to catch up. Graham shouted instructions from behind. The mare picked up speed. Miss Thorpe bounced like a ragdoll.

“Miss Thorpe!” he roared. “Take the reins! Tug to your hip!” She had likely gripped Daisy’s mane on instinct, which was only making matters worse.

Miss Thorpe fumbled, finally grasping the leads.

“Pull!” He hated feeling useless.

She yanked the leads to her hip until the horse had no choice but to slow and walk in a circle.

When the horse stilled, Miss Thorpe said, “I’ve had enough.” She spoke almost in a whisper. “Let’s return on foot. Help me down.” She dislodged herself from the pommel of her saddle. Halverton and Graham assisted. Her feet hit the ground, and she stumbled forward until Halverton steadied her.

“You recovered remarkably well,” he offered. After watching her progress so confidently these past few weeks, he hated seeing this defeat.

“Why did I let go of the reins?” Her voice shook, and her chin quivered.

He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her. “You kept your seat. You are officially an accomplished horsewoman.”

“Thank you, my lord, for that extreme flattery.”

“He is right, Miss Thorpe,” Graham said. “You did very well.”

Miss Thorpe nodded, then strode shakily toward the trees.

Halverton followed, wondering how he could assist her. When he learned to ride, he’d been thrown once, and his father had forced him to remount immediately. He’d obeyed and mastered his fears as a result. “You must get back on Daisy,” he said to her retreating back.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “What? No.”

“If you don’t, you’ll be afraid tomorrow.”

She ripped her riding hat from her head, tossing it to the ground before pressing her hands against a tree.

He stood next to her, stupidly searching for the words she needed. After some hesitation, he rested his hand on her shoulder. “You are excellent with a horse. Don’t let this hold you back.”

Dappled light dancing on her cheek. With a tremulous exhale, she sagged forward, resting her forehead on the tree. Her breath slowed, and he tried to manage his own unsteady heartbeat. Abruptly, she stiffened and stood taller, taking a step away from him.

“Let me catch my breath.” Her eyes darted between him and the forest, her face a mask of wariness.

She stepped through the trees, and he planted his feet to keep from following her.

“Let her be, my lord,” Graham said. “Come, the horses need water.” Halverton watched Miss Thorpe weave through the woods while he and Graham led the animals to a stream.

“I am pleased you are spending so much time out of doors, my lord,” Graham said. “The young lady is good for you.” He grinned.

“Mind your own affairs.”

“No need to look at me like that. And pardon me, but you are my affair. I’ve never seen a lady turn your head.”

“She is…interesting.”