Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

She paused as she’d made only slight inroads into her task. “Well, of course it wouldn’t be natural to wish to be unhappy. But why torture myself with unattainable aspirations? I’d rather surprise myself by discovering unexpected happiness than be disappointed in my hopes for something else.”

His eyelids fluttered as he worked to regulate his breathing against the pain, while Eliza struggled to gain another couple of inches of loosened foot from the boot. When he began to shake, she rose with the sudden idea of retrieving the blanket from beneath the saddle to keep him warm.

“Do you have siblings, Miss Montrose?” he asked, watching her as she loosened the leather straps before pulling the blanket free.

“I had a brother once,” she said, draping it over him.

“Once?”

“Killed in a duel. He taught me to swim.” Introduced me to the man I loved also, then died for it. Honour was a curse.

“I am sorry.”

“So was I.” She forced a smile. Forced herself also to ask no questions of him. He was kind. Most women, she supposed, would consider him handsome. But she didn’t need the complication of developing an interest in him. She hoped Mr Bramley wasn’t the jealous kind. Mercifully, he’d evinced little interest in her as a woman, but still, she was all but his property, and a man guarded his property with care. Again, it was a matter of honour.

So she stared out across the hill, hoping help would come soon, cutting into Mr Patmore’s conversation when it appeared he wished to quiz her further, this time with a question of her own. “And how is it you and Mr Bramley are friends?” She wasn’t interested, she told herself. This was only to deflect him from invading her privacy further.

“A shared love of horseflesh.”

“Mr Bramley said he detested horses.”

“Riding them, yes. However, he loves to race them. He has high hopes for one of his two-year-olds, Devil’s Run.”

“Lovely animal. I wanted to ride him this afternoon but was warned against it. Dangerous? I hardly think so.”

“He’ll be yours to ride any time you wish, after a fortnight.”

Quietly, she murmured, “Thank you for reminding me.” Yes, it was true. That would be another bright spot in the routine of her daily life. Eliza would have access to all the horses in Lord Quamby’s stables.

“Right at this moment, he’s bartering on his next hope in the East Anglia Cup. That’s my guess. Or else he’s proposing a swap.”

Eliza digested this for a moment. “He wants to swap something from his own stable for something he thinks will perform better? Mr Bramley does enjoy horse trading.” Their nuptials weren’t so different. She wished, though, she’d not made a remark that invited more questions.

He looked at her sharply, moved slightly, then winced again. Eliza glanced at the darkening clouds then at his pallor and was concerned. “Lady Fenton will, I’m sure, have had the foresight to call for the physician while someone else comes to help you.”

“Oh, I’ve suffered worse than this. Left for dead on a battlefield throughout a rainy night. Was sure the cold was going to get to me before the bayonet wound.”

“Goodness! How brave.”

“I’m not blowing my own trumpet.”

“I know, but I’m impressed. I should have discerned the army man in you. Something about your bearing, perhaps.”

“You’re very lovely, Miss Montrose.” He shifted, wincing again. “I wish you weren’t going to marry Mr Bramley.”

Eliza gasped and he looked embarrassed, as if the words had been spoken unguardedly and he realised their inappropriateness.

Trying not to sound stiff, she said, “We have an understanding. There are advantages for both of us. I went in with my eyes wide open. No one in my family is a proponent of a love match and, to be frank, neither am I. Pragmatism is my mantra.” She hadn’t meant to sound so hot under the collar. She looked away. Please make help come soon. Eliza didn’t want to know more about this man or his thoughts and feelings. The unsettling interest in his grey-eyed gaze was not helping her cause. Not now that she had more reason than ever to marry Mr Bramley.

“Look! They’re coming!” She didn’t care if he heard the jubilation in her voice, and that he might rightly interpret it as relief she’d no longer be alone with him. “They mightn’t find us unless I alert them. Excuse me, Mr Patmore.” Cutting off his next question she returned to the stream, hitching up her skirts to negotiate the deep middle before she reached the smooth upwards slope to hail the oncoming riders.

She wished she’d not caught the flash of disappointment in his eyes as she’d turned. Nor the hint of something that spelled interest. A deepening interest. Interest spelled curiosity, and the last thing Eliza needed right now was a handsome, eligible man becoming curious.

Not when her course was set in stone.

Chapter 5

“Poor Mr Patmore,” Fanny soothed as she swept into the grand, high-ceilinged bedchamber where he’d been settled. His leg was now bandaged, and the physician was bleeding him. “What a terrible tumble. So lucky you didn’t break your neck.”