and that sad little something that lingered always in
the depths of his eyes wasn't there. I ran to him, delighted with the response of his immediate smile. "We are going to have the most wonderful day!" I said, giving him a quick hug before I looked eagerly toward the stables. "I just hope the grooms won't tell
Tony."
"They know better than to carry tales," he answered lightly, seeming charmed by my happy excitement. "You look great, Heavenly, absolutely great." I spun around to give him a full view, spreading
my arms, and tossing my hair. "Tony gave me these
riding clothes for Christmas. First time I've worn
them."
For a week Troy gave me riding lessons each
morning and taught me the difference between the
English and Western styles. It was more fun than I'd
ever expected (though I hurt each night when I sat),
learning how to race with the wind, and duck the low
branches, and heel into the flanks of my mount when I
wanted to stop. In short order I lost my fear of the
horse and its impressive height.
After my lessons each morning, we'd go back to
his cottage to have lunch, and then he'd send me back
to the big house, saying he had to work. I could feel
him resisting spending too much time with me, yet I
could tell that he really wanted to. So I avoided seeing him in the evening, hoping that he'd miss me, and long for me, and indeed, each morning he seemed so happy to see me that I was certain that someday very,
very soon, he would realize he loved me.
It was a full eight days after my riding lessons
began that Troy felt I was ready for a really long ride
into the woods surrounding Farthinggale Manor. Time
and again he kept glancing at the sky. "The early
morning news predicted violent electrical storms, so
we shouldn't go too far."
With us we had a picnic hamper full of what
Troy had put together himself, and some special treats
that Rye Whiskey had sent over from the big house