Placing his hands on her waist, Alex lifted her effortlessly into the offending saddle, watching as she hooked one knee around the pommel and placed her foot in the stirrup before settling her skirts. ‘Take her out into the park and have a trot round. Get used to her before we set off.’
Taking the reins as Sheba moved restlessly, Angelina controlled the horse effortlessly and slanted Alex a querying glance. ‘I don’t see Miss Howard here. Shouldn’t you go and find her and ensure she is properly mounted?’
‘Lavinia isn’t riding. She dislikes horses and has no fondness for riding. She is to follow on in one of the curricles with some of the other ladies. We’ll meet up with them at the Wild Boar in the village.’
Angelina smiled inwardly, secretly suspecting this was because Miss Howard was an indifferent horsewoman and had no wish to be shown up, but she prudently kept her suspicion to herself.
Alex’s expression suddenly became serious. ‘There is one thing I should mention before we depart, Angelina. We won’t be riding to Arlington directly and will more than likely pass the place on the other side of the woods where you encountered the gypsies.’
Angelina paled, her eyes locked on his.
‘Don’t be alarmed,’ he told her gently. ‘They moved on yesterday so you are in no danger of confronting them again.’
She nodded, her relief evident, glad that they had gone and were no longer a threat to her peace of mind. But how long would it be before something else came along to remind her?
When the party set off a biting wind had risen. Out in the park whips cracked and they were off at full gallop down the hill towards the lake. Angelina was happy that Sheba turned out to be a spirited little horse, certainly less docile than she had first thought. Several hounds bounded on ahead. Followed by a sea of horses—Alex and Nathan out in front setting the route—they poured over the land with a fluidity reminiscent of a river in full flow.
After a time they slowed their horses to a leisurely walk. Turning in his saddle, Alex looked back at Angelina, reining in his horse to wait for her to draw level.
‘My compliments, Angelina. I know few men who ride as well as you,’ he told her, falling in beside her. ‘I am certain that the huntress Diana could not rival you.’
‘That is a compliment indeed—coming from you.’ The genuine warmth and admiration in his voice and in his eyes flooded her heart with joy.
‘Is Sheba to your liking?’
‘She most certainly is, but she does not perform as well as Forest Shadow. She’s an ambler in comparison—but we get on well enough.’ She laughed, leaning forward and stroking Sheba’s neck when she saw the mare prick her ears back, as if aware of what she was saying. ‘She’s a beautiful horse.’
‘I’m glad you like her. She’s yours.’
Angelina stared at him, almost speechless with pleasure. ‘Mine? Oh, Alex. No one has ever given me such a wonderful gift. I can’t possibly accept it.’
‘Yes, you can—unless you wish to offend me.’
She smiled a little shyly. ‘I wouldn’t dare. I don’t know what to say.’
‘Thank you will do.’ He’d decided to make her a gift of the horse days ago, but because of her disobedience over Forest Shadow and the arrival of his guests, somehow he’d never got around to it.
‘Thank you. But what will happen to her when I return to London? Will I have to leave her here?’
‘You can take her with you if you like.’
‘Really? Oh, that would be wonderful.’
Alex studied her in silence for a moment before saying, ‘You’re a strange young woman, Angelina Hamilton. Has there been no young man in your life? Before you came to England.’
Angelina sighed, a wistfulness entering her eyes. ‘There was once,’ she confessed, remembering Stuart Thackery, her childhood sweetheart.
‘Tell me about him?’
‘There’s nothing to tell really.’
‘Was he handsome?’
‘Oh, yes—very. To my romantic imagination he was Apollo and Lancelot all rolled into one—a thousand times more wonderful than all the knights of King Arthur’s Round Table. No legendary hero could compare.’
Alex found himself resenting and thinking jealously of that young man. ‘He sounds like the answer to every maiden’s prayer. And what happened to this prince among men?’ he asked carelessly, unaware how deeply his cruel sarcasm hurt Angelina.
The question seemed to discomfit her. As if stalling for time she looked straight ahead, fighting a sudden mistiness in her eyes. She waited a moment before answering, and when she did her voice was low, almost a whisper. ‘He—he was killed by the Shawnee.’ Suddenly she urged her horse on.
Alex cursed his thoughtlessness. With a heavy guilt and his words eating away at him, he rode after her, catching Sheba’s rein and bringing her to a halt. Angelina’s expression was so wretched that it drove a piercing pain through his heart. At that moment he wanted all the other riders to disappear into thin air so he could drag her from her horse on to his own and kiss away her pain. She averted her eyes, looking anywhere but at him.
‘Angelina, I apologise for my thoughtlessness.’ Leaning across, he tipped her chin. ‘Look at me and tell me you forgive my insensitive, thoughtless blunder.’
Her face broke in a teary smile and she looked directly into his eyes, seeing they were soft and yearning as they rested on her. ‘Of course I do. How could you know anything about Stuart when I’ve never mentioned him? Along with many other things, I have several reasons for not wanting to talk about him.’
‘I think there are a lot of things you don’t speak of. Maybe you should. Quite often when one talks of what is troubling them, it helps relieve inner pain.’
‘I can’t. I will not confide in you or anyone else to share my misery.’
Alex looked into the moist depths of her eyes for a lengthy moment before nodding slowly, hesitant to press her further on an issue that clearly caused her extreme distress. ‘I won’t mention it again. Now, dry your eyes and we’ll join the others.’ Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he handed it to her, realising how far they had lagged behind the rest when he looked ahead. ‘We are in danger of being left behind and becoming the subject of a good deal of senseless gossip and conjecture.’
Angelina wiped her eyes and handed the handkerchief back to him.
‘Are you ready to ride on?’
She nodded, a faint smile on her lips.
‘Good girl,’ he murmured, angry with himself for hurting her, and grateful to her for accepting his apology so graciously.
It was a merry group that arrived back at Arlington in the late afternoon. Everyone dispersed to their respective rooms to make themselves presentable for dinner. Jenkins approached Alex, slightly agitated.
‘There is someone to see you, my lord.’
‘Who is it?’
‘A gentleman by the name of Mr Monkton. He arrived just a few minutes ago and has been shown into the library. He has come from Spain.’
Alex’s face hardened, his gaze shifting from the butler’s face to the closed library door. Angelina saw his jaw clench and his hands ball into tight fists as, in frigid silence, he strode towards the library and went inside. Her instinct told her that Mr Monkton’s arrival boded ill.
She was proved right. Her aunt’s expression was grim as they went in to dinner.
‘Alex’s