by Regina Darcy
The smile faded from his face at once, a worried look replacing it.
“That is not very good at all, Miss James,” he replied, his hands dropping from his sides.
“However did you hurt it?”
Her face flamed. “I do not quite know,” she replied, frankly. “I did fall, and mayhap I twisted it somehow.”
The gentleman nodded slowly, still looking rather concerned. “And can you walk on it?” he asked, as a drop of rain fell on Christiana’s nose. “It looks like it is about to rain, and I would not like you to get wet.”
Christiana lifted her face to the sky, thinking to tell him that he was being quite ridiculous, only to see a dark cloud beginning to cover the sun. Her heart sank, her shoulders slumping. “I – I can try,” she stammered, as another raindrop landed on her upturned cheek. She tried to get to her feet, only to stumble the moment she put weight on it.
“Careful, there,” Mr Hart said at once, catching her carefully and setting her back on the rock. “I think I may have to set you on my horse to take you back home, Miss James, if you would allow it?”
Her throat closed and she nodded, mutely.
“Very good – although I do not think we will make it before the rain comes.” A slightly frustrated look appeared on his face as it began to rain a little harder. “I think, if you will permit me, I shall simply have to shelter us both from the rain. It looks nothing more than a passing shower.” He looked at her enquiringly, shrugging off his coat. “Might I sit by you?”
Even though she was but fourteen, Christiana felt her heart begin to race. She gulped, then nodded, aware of just how closely he was sat beside her.
“This should do the trick,” he said with a smile, pulling the coat from his shoulders and holding it high over their heads as the rain began to come down in earnest. Christiana could think of nothing to say as they sat there, choosing to simply listen to the sound of the rain as it fell from the sky, splashing in small puddles all around them.
And just like that, within a few minutes, it was over. The sunshine returned in all of its glory and Mr Hart took his coat away. Getting to his feet, he shook the rain from it.
“Now,” he said with a broad smile. “Do you think you can walk if you lean on my arm? Or must I carry you?”
Christiana smiled and held out her hand, even though her face was, she was quite sure, crimson red.
“I am sure I will manage quite well, sir,” she said softly, as he took her hand and helped her to lean on him heavily. “It does not pain me so much when I have you to aid me.” Looking up at him, she paused for a moment before continuing. “You are very good to help me, Mr Hart. I thank you.”
“Not in the least,” he exclaimed, as they began to move slowly down the hill. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I did not help a lady in need?” He chuckled and began to talk of the countryside and all other such things as they made their way slowly down the hill.
Christiana did not take in much of what he said, finding his presence so overwhelming that it was difficult for her to even think clearly. He was so close to her, so warm and affectionate, that she was quite at a loss as to what to say. Instead, she simply smiled and nodded, making the occasional remark and hoping above all hope that he did not think of her as some ridiculous child, even though it was quite obvious she was not a lady of society. Self-consciously, she ran one finger over the bridge of her nose, finding herself suddenly worried about the appearance of freckles. Her heart sank to her toes as she realised that he must think her nothing more than a mere child caught in some folly and in need of rescue. There would be no return of her sudden, overwhelming affection, no quickening of his heart to match hers.
As he lifted her onto his horse, Christiana grew resolute in her own mind. She would, one day, marry this man. She would find him again when it came her turn to be out in society, and it would be her turn to throw him into turmoil. She would be the most wonderful lady in all of London, and he would have no choice but to turn his head in her direction. One day, she was quite sure, she would have him as her own.
Even as the cries of her governess fell down around her ears, Christiana remained quite determined. She bid Mr Hart goodbye with as much decorum as she could muster, her breath hitching when he bowed over her hand. Ignoring her governess completely, she kept her eyes on him as he walked away, knowing with such a deep certainty – a certainty that could not be explained – that she would see him again one day. Her dreams began to form almost the moment he left her sight, and turning to her governess, Christiana cleared her throat and pinned the lady with her gaze.
“My dear Miss Walker, I must do all I can to be the most respectable of young ladies,” she said firmly. “I promise you now that I shall not escape again. I shall do exactly as you say and show nothing but devotion to all that you teach me. I must become a diamond of the first water.”
The governess, suddenly mute with surprise, simply nodded and helped Christiana to come inside, her eyes widening a little as she did so. Christiana smiled to herself, her vow growing in strength within her heart. She would meet Mr Hart again and, one day, he would be her husband.
She was quite determined.
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