Taffeta & Hotspur

In what seemed interminable but was actually a short time, Tabby returned with his lady’s horse and a saddled roan for himself.

“Tabby, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I be going wit ye! Not the devil ’imself could stop me!” announced her groom as he watched her cinch her saddle in place and hoist herself nimbly onto her horse.

She laughed. “Now, Tabby, I have to tell you that you should fear my powers a bit more than the devil’s.” She laughed again and added, “I’ve a notion to let you come—so be it!”

She flung him a purse containing a tidy sum and led the way, cooing to her glossy, quiet stallion as she urged him onto the cobbled street. His ears flicked at the sound of her voice. A breeze caressed her cheeks, and Myriah laughed a wild, unbridled laugh. She was free—at least for the moment.

~ Two ~

AS THEY PICKED their way through the narrow streets toward Charing Cross, Myriah’s eyes were bright with excitement. Even the thought that London at this time of night was not safe for a well-armed man, let alone a young woman, could not disturb her spirits.

“’Tis a wild ride we ’ave ahead of us, m’lady,” Tabson said sourly.

“Ain’t it grand, Tab? Imagine! Riding on the open road with not a soul to say us nay!”

“Humph … providing no bridle-cull spots us,” returned the groom pessimistically.

“And if he does, we’ll give him our trinkets and be on our way—’tis nothing!” said the lady, snapping her finger for emphasis and laughing at the thought of such an escapade.

A company of merry gentlemen stumbled out of a tavern singing quite loudly, out of tune and not at all concerned with this deficiency. They spotted Myriah and called out robustly for her to stop awhile. She chuckled but kept up her proud chin, urging her horse to move at a faster pace.

“Humph!” grumbled Tabby. At last they reached the toll-gate. After watching Tabby attend to the fee, Myriah gave her horse his head. They bounded forward in rhythm with one another, and Myriah’s restlessness lost itself in speed. How she loved riding freely.

Tabby caught up after some effort and called to his mistress to slow her horse into a canter. “Don’t be all hell and fire, m’lady … leastways not in the dark! Ye’ll be planting yerself in some rut or other and giving that stallion ye say ye love so much a strained fetlock!”

She laughed but did indeed ease her spirited horse into a slower gait. After the docile rides in Hyde Park, this carefree exercise created euphoria, banishing Myriah’s concern.

Tabson felt it incumbent upon himself to bring his mistress to a sense of reality and dispel the sweetness of her fantasy with his gruff practicality. “’Twill not serve, m’lady, and well ye know.”

“Hush, Tab, I won’t have you growling at me.” Myriah laughed.

“Growl, is it?” said the man, sticking out his lower lip. “And what will ye be calling it when yer papa bowls down upon us at Guildford House?”

Myriah sighed, and a slight crease marred her brow. “Oh dear … he will do so, I suppose.”

“Hang me if he doesn’t! Then what will ye say? Fine set-to there will be!”

“Oh, Tabby, I never thought of that. Papa will be angry to be sure, but he and grandpapa are good friends …”

“Humph! Lord Guildford will take your side in the matter, and it’s plain as pikestaff yer papa is bound to take umbrage. A rare set-to there will be!” grumbled the elderly man.

Myriah’s frown deepened. “Oh, Tab, you are taking too doleful a look at the whole thing. I shall fix things up right and tight. See if I don’t!”

To this her groom had little to say. However, he continued to mumble incoherently. Myriah lost her patience and moved her horse forward, leaving Tab some distance behind her.

When they reached Tunbridge Wells, the horses were watered and rested for a few minutes. Then once again they set south on the main pike. The adventure had lost its initial thrill for Myriah, and her mind was now busy with the problems facing her. There was Sir Roland, who surely would be upset. She had done him an injustice leaving as she had, allowing him to believe she had acquiesced to her father’s outrageous plan. But then, she had not missed his expression, which told her he had not been completely fooled. But Papa—there was no telling what he might do, though she was fairly certain he would post down to her grandfather’s in the morning … and then there would be a scene.

The road meandered past rich green farms and through meadowlands boasting of spring wildflowers, whose scent was carried on the growing breeze. The aroma infiltrated her senses, and for a moment she just breathed it in and sighed. Feeling rejuvenated, Myriah said, “Just look about at all this glory.”

“Look at what, m’lady?” asked her astonished groom as he came up alongside her. “What can ye see in the darkness? ’Tis half-daft to try!”

“Oh, Tabby, don’t vex me so! I can see … with my mind’s eye, and I do so love Kent!”

“Aye!” Tabson agreed, relenting, for it had been his home as well, and he too was heartily sick of town life.

They maintained a steady pace for the next half hour without speaking. In her haste Myriah had neglected to put on a riding hat, and her fiery ringlets had tumbled down upon her shoulders. The breeze was stronger now and whipped the long, thick locks across her cheeks. With an exasperated sigh she reined in, pulled off a glove, and pinned back the wayward tresses.