Hopeless Heart

It was wonderful to sit so high up and relish the morning sunshine. In a way it was a shame that Ruth’s house wasn’t further away. Even though the journey was short, it was delightful. Georgiana was vaguely aware of several passers-by watching at them curiously, but didn’t look at them. Nothing was going to dampen her enjoyment of this rather unexpected adventure. It was far more than she had ever stopped to consider she might experience and was every bit as wonderful as she had imagined.

Simeon laughed. “As fast as the horse can run,” he replied dryly. “And the driver can cope with. I take it that you like adventure?”

“Not really, but I have so wanted to ride on one of these.” She looked at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he replied, blinking in astonishment at how a smile transformed her face.

“I understand that these are all the rage in London.”

Simeon laughed. “That they are, my dear. That they are.”

“I have seen a carriage race once, several years ago. It looked incredibly dangerous,” she said.

“Was it curricle racing?” Simeon asked her a mock frown. “That is illegal.”

Georgiana shook her head. “No, they were closed-top carriages I am afraid, and it was only a small race. It would be incredibly daring to race one of these wouldn’t it?”

Simeon laughed uproariously. “It would be reckless,” he replied once his mirth had died. “Reckless, but incredibly good fun.”

Georgiana’s smile widened.

Simeon grinned at her in return. “Allow me one day to fulfil your every wish. If we can persuade your aunt to let you come out with me, I shall take you on a drive. Maybe when we are out on the country lanes, with no other traffic around, I will allow the horse to trot for a while so you can get an understanding of just how dangerous curricle racing can be. It isn’t just dangerous for the curricle’s passengers it puts the horse in danger as well. No respectable driver would ever put their animal at risk by racing their horses while attached to these things. I cannot see there being any harm in allowing you to take the reins for a while, though.” He glanced about them and then leaned toward her. “Just don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“I won’t,” she promised, and threw him a worried frown. “Please don’t misunderstand. I am not reckless.”

“I was only teasing. While I am happy to trot him while pulling this thing, galloping him while in pursuit of someone else is nothing short of suicide.” He threw her a somewhat limpid smile that made her stare at him warily. It was too smooth, too charming, and a little insipid. “I wouldn’t put someone as beautiful as you at risk like that.”

Unsure what to say without encouraging him, Georgiana tried to find something else to talk about. “Would you really let me drive this?”

Simeon smiled at her but looked at the road ahead for a moment. Strangely, he then guided the carriage to the side of the road and stopped.

“Here, hold these.” He guided her fingers around the reins with gentle hands. “Flick them gently like this when you want him to walk on but don’t slap him too hard. He has had plenty of hay last night and might run for miles. When you want him to stop, tug gently on the reins but not too hard because they are attached to his mouth and can hurt him.”

Georgiana stared at him aghast when he leaned back against the seat and braced his arms behind him as he waited.

“You want me to drive this to Ruth’s house?” She asked in astonishment. She glanced around them, painfully aware that Simeon had been touching her hands in public. Still, her concern faded into insignificance beneath the magnitude of what he expected her to do.

“Of course,” Simeon replied with a wave toward the road ahead. “Off you go.”

Georgiana stared at the reins in her hands but was more focused on the gentle touch of his fingers on her shoulder. They weren’t doing anything more scandalous than touching her but they were there for the world to see and hinted at a closer connection than they truly had. She glanced around and saw a group of elderly women standing at the end of the road watching them. It was clear from their furtive looks and the scandalous glares that they were disapproving of what they were seeing. They weren’t the only ones either. Will was also glaring at her as though she had committed a sin. Guilt swamped her, especially after what they had shared the other night.

Desperate to get away from such scrutiny, Georgiana gently flicked the reins as instructed. To her amazement, the horse dutifully began to walk.

“Now relax,” Simeon soothed gently. “The horse will pick up on your tension if the reins are so tight.”

Painfully aware of the impropriety of Simeon’s posture, Georgiana’s back remained ramrod straight as she carefully steered the curricle down the street. In spite of her discomfort she revelled in being in control of such a powerful contraption, and the journey was over all too soon.

“That was wonderful,” she breathed when she had pulled to a stop. “Thank you for allowing me to do this.”

Simeon stared at her in amazement. Now that all pretence of politeness and rigid formality had gone, Miss Bentley was the most wonderful, vibrant creature he had ever clapped eyes on. It was difficult to connect her to the same stilted and awkward young woman he had said hello to in the churchyard just now. Determined to discover what other secrets lay beneath that ladylike persona, Simeon handed her down and waited patiently with her for Ruth to join them.

“Your niece has expressed a wish to race curricles,” he informed her aunt. “While I don’t recommend that your delightful niece should put herself in such danger, I don’t mind allowing her to try her hand at driving my curricle again - under the direct supervision of myself of course. You are quite welcome to come along if you want.”

“Well, if that is acceptable,” Ruth spluttered, completely shocked that he should suggest such a thing.

In spite of her delight, Georgiana cast a wary glance at the people still chatting away at the end of the street.

“I-I am not sure,” she muttered.