The Marriage Rescue

by Joanna Johnson

  ‘Hmm...’ Oblivious to the mute disbelief of both watching men, Selina turned the hoof and pressed gently at the tender underside, searching for something. The horse gave a soft whinny, as though in pain, and Selina placed the foot back on the ground carefully. ‘She’s got an abscess.’

  Selina straightened up, moving back to stand at the horse’s head. She ran a hand down the animal’s face, softly stroking the blaze of white splashed across jet-black.

  ‘A mustard poultice will draw the heat out, and she’ll be walking normally again quite soon.’

  Greene blinked at her, obviously at a loss for words, and Edward felt himself scarcely less surprised than his coachman. Her complete lack of self-consciousness stirred his immense admiration—who else would throw quality propriety to the wind and, careless of anybody else’s opinion, do such an unladylike thing in the middle of a heaving street?

  Edward knew from the aghast faces of the well-dressed strangers walking by them that they were appalled at Selina’s apparent lack of decorum, but Edward only felt an absurd glint of pride that his wife was so unbothered by their stares, intent only on helping the suffering horse.

  That’s the Selina I met in the woods all those years ago. Never one to ignore a poor wounded creature.

  Selina brushed her hands together neatly. ‘Do you know how to make up a poultice? I have a recipe, if you’d care for it?’

  The coachman still stared at her with a combination of shock and no small degree of respect, and it was only when Edward audibly cleared his throat that the man seemed to find his tongue. ‘My wife makes them when the children have toothache, ma’am. I’ll ask her for one as soon as I return home.’

  ‘Excellent. She’ll be good as new directly.’

  Edward clapped the man on the shoulder, seeing Selina’s satisfied nod out of the corner of his eye. All that remained now was to work out how he and Selina would find their way back to Blackwell themselves, now the carriage was unavailable. Greene would walk the injured horse home slowly, and return with a fresh pair to retrieve the carriage in the morning, but how would they manage now?

  Edward made up his mind. There was really only one option, and it was one that made his heart begin to beat quickly against his ribs. ‘I think Mrs Fulbrooke and I will ride home on the other horse. Would you be so good as to see her saddled?’

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  Greene moved off in pursuit of his task, leaving Edward with the suddenly warily quiet Selina.

  * * *

  Selina watched with round eyes as Greene prepared the fit horse and brought her to stand at the mounting block. Edward climbed up at once, and it was all Selina could do to bite back a squeak of anxiety as she realised her first suspicion had been correct.

  Heaven help me. Selina stared up at him, seated high above her with such natural elegance it was as though he’d been born into a saddle. He wants me sit between—?

  She could hardly finish the thought, her breath catching in her throat and mortification stealing over her. He truly expected her to share his seat. It was so intimate, so close. She would be able to feel those strong legs she had admired for so long on either side of her, pinning her between them, while his arms would have to reach around her, drawing her close to that firm chest that she didn’t dare allow herself to think about.

  It wasn’t proper to have such thoughts, but Selina couldn’t help it as Edward looked down at her and raised a questioning eyebrow.

  ‘Are you coming up or not?’

  Greene was standing at her elbow. ‘Allow me, ma’am.’

  He extended a hand and Selina took it with a moment’s hesitation. She didn’t have much choice, but it was with no small amount of embarrassment that she allowed the coachman to help her up onto the waiting horse.

  Selina swallowed down a rising sense of discomfort as she settled herself between the warm spread of Edward’s thighs. The feel of his legs touching hers through the material of her dress made her heart skip faster, and when his arms came around her to take hold of the reins she felt a furious blush come roaring up from her neck to burn the previously cold skin of her cheeks.

  ‘Are you quite comfortable?’

  Edward’s lips were close to her ear. Selina steeled herself not to shiver as the feel of his breath stirred the hairs on the nape of her neck, deliciously sensitive. She nodded mutely and took hold of the pommel to anchor herself to the saddle.

  ‘Very good.’ Edward twitched the reins and gently touched the horse with his heels, raising a hand to Greene in farewell. ‘Walk on.’

  Selina held herself stiffly, determined not to allow herself to sink back against Edward’s broad chest as they trotted through the town, Edward nodding politely to his left and right as they passed people he knew. It seemed to Selina he had an extraordinary number of acquaintances, and she thanked her lucky stars that he didn’t pull the horse up short to speak to any of them.

  A mile or so into their journey Edward leaned down to speak into her ear again, sending another delightful rush of sensation tingling through her nerves.

  ‘Why are you sitting so oddly? You can’t be at ease, holding yourself so unnaturally upright like that.’

  Selina gritted her teeth on her alarm. I can’t very well tell you it’s because I don’t dare come any closer.

  The instinctive reaction of her body to Edward’s proximity was hardly subtle, she feared, and her face grew warm again at the thought that Edward might notice the effect his all too enticing masculinity had on her.

  ‘No, no, I’m quite well. This is how I always sit when I’m riding.’

  She heard Edward’s snort of amusement. ‘I’ve watched you ride on a number of occasions, and I beg your leave to disagree that this is in any way normal.’

  Selina opened her mouth to reply, but instead only a gasp escaped her lips as Edward took one hand from the reins to place it on her waist and draw her backwards, pulling her closer to the solid pillar of his body as easily as if she weighed nothing at all.

  Shocked, Selina said nothing as sparks erupted in her stomach at the feel of his hand on the intimate curve of her waist, overcome by scandalised delight as Edward’s very male heat warmed her back. She leaned against him, apparently powerless to move away.

  ‘That’s better. We have a fairly long ride ahead of us. I don’t want you spending it looking so uncomfortable.’

  Unseen by the satisfied man at her back, Selina shut her eyes tight in secret disagreement. If Edward thought nestling closer against him had decreased her discomfort, he was entirely wrong. Her shameful appreciation for the strength of the thighs that rubbed against her own with every movement of the horse was enough to make her blush all the more, and the place where his hand had gripped her waist felt as though it was on fire.

  She was almost dazed by the whirl of sensation such proximity created inside her, and so she said nothing as they rode onwards, each footfall only increasing the delicious friction between her back and his chest that made her every nerve stand to attention.

  ‘I was very impressed by how well you dealt with my poor horse.’

  Selina felt the words vibrate through Edward’s chest as he spoke.

  ‘I’ve never seen a woman with such—ah—skills before.’

  Selina could have sworn she heard a note of surprised admiration in his tone, and it pleased her more than she knew was entirely sensible. ‘Thank you. I’ve been working horses since I was old enough to walk. My mother had just started teaching me her remedies before she passed away—’ She broke off for a moment as a sudden wave of intense sadness washed over her. ‘Her knowledge was my only inheritance when she died.’

  She heard the note of curiosity in Edward’s voice at her back. ‘The only inheritance? Did she not leave anything else to you?’

  Selina swallowed down a flicker of pain and shook her head. ‘No. That is not our way
.’

  Flames had consumed Diamanda’s body and all her worldly goods along with her, as was Romani custom. Everything that had remained of the woman who had shaped Selina’s young life had been reduced to a towering column of smoke. Diamanda’s dresses, her jewellery, even her hair combs had been piled around her slight body and set alight, while her family and all who loved her had stood with dancing flames reflected in the tears that rolled down their faces.

  ‘We leave nothing behind.’

  Edward was silent for a moment. When he replied his voice held genuine sympathy, its warmth so sincere that Selina felt something within her rise up to respond. It was almost a physical stirring, although nothing could quite force back the tide of grief that still welled inside her.

  ‘It must be difficult, having no keepsakes. Was there nothing you would have liked to save?’

  Selina sighed, her shoulders moving in a hopeless shrug. ‘It hardly matters now.’

  ‘But there was something?’ he asked softly, interested but not imposing. ‘A memento you would have liked to keep?’

  A small smile twisted Selina’s lips—a wistful thing that would have broken her mama’s heart. ‘There was a brooch she used to wear. Only gilt and paste stones, but she used to let me play with it and I was always the one to pin it to her dress.’

  She held her fingers a couple of inches apart, seeing as she did so the memory of the brooch fixed firmly to her mother’s chest. The picture made her smile stronger.

  ‘It was about this big, and shaped like a flower. One big central stone surrounded by smaller ones like petals, and two metal leaves underneath. I’ll never forget it.’ She sighed again, so quietly this time that she knew Edward couldn’t have caught the tiny sound. ‘Never.’

  There was another silence as Selina sifted through her memories, recalling all the times when her childish fingers had toyed with the brooch she ached to see just one more time. Her father had brought it back with him from some market or other, and slipped it beneath Diamanda’s pillow for her to find...

  Her papa’s face when he and Selina had stood watching as his beloved’s pyre sent sparks tumbling through the air was one she had never been able to forget. The thought of Papa gave Selina pause, and she felt a fresh knot of unhappiness rising to sit heavy in her chest. How was he faring, away working so hard? Had he heard the news of her marriage? Was he even now breaking a sweat while the pain of his daughter’s actions weighed him down from within?

  She felt her lips tighten and looked down at her hands, increasing their grip on the pommel until the knuckles gleamed white.

  ‘You don’t talk about your father.’

  It was as though Edward had read her mind. His voice was quiet, hardly audible above the chill wind that rushed about them as they rode. They had long since left the town behind, and now all Selina could see in all directions was the patchwork green of fields.

  ‘It’s difficult for me.’ Selina flexed the fingers of one hand, relieving the stiffness her iron grip had created. ‘I miss him. I miss all my people.’

  Edward said nothing for a moment. Selina was just beginning to wish she hadn’t opened up at all when she felt a clumsy pat on her arm, and she twisted in surprise to look up into Edward’s face.

  ‘I understand.’ Edward’s expression looked a little strained and he gave Selina a tight smile. ‘My relationship with my own father wasn’t easy, but even so...’ He tailed off, looking away from her across the open fields.

  Selina waited for him to finish, but he didn’t seem inclined to carry on. The look in his eye was almost sad, and Selina felt sympathy rise up inside her for the man she longed to comfort. Would he allow her such liberties? she wondered as she twisted back in the saddle to look over the horse’s head. He had spared no time in soothing her when she grieved for her mother, and she felt another glimmer of that inexplicable comfort Edward’s arms had given her.

  But perhaps he would not appreciate her drawing attention to his moment of sorrow. Grief was a deeply personal thing—she knew that from bitter experience. He might rather she didn’t say a word. Still, the glimpse of pain in his look had moved her, and it was by some unthinking instinct that Selina reached out to take Edward’s hand in her own and squeeze it in wordless sympathy.

  She felt rather than saw Edward’s jolt of surprise, covered by a quick-thinking cough. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done that. She turned her head slightly to the side, hoping to catch another glimpse of his face, but she could see nothing but a vague blur.

  They rode on in silence, covering the few miles left to Blackwell Hall with neither one aware of the racing thoughts that swirled within the other.

  Chapter Nine

  Selina looked out at the frost delicately patterning the glass of the drawing room window. Winter was well and truly underway. The mornings were raw and uncompromising, and clouds moved across an iron sky. She could just make out the tiny forms of little birds huddling together for warmth in the skeletal branches of the grounds’ trees.

  She turned from the window and began to move in the direction of her bedchamber. Edward had expressed his intention of seeing his steward that morning, on estate business, stating that he wouldn’t be returning until the evening, and he had left soon after breakfast, riding away down the long drive on his shining chestnut mare. It seemed to her the perfect time chance a visit to the Roma camp, without any accompanying questions.

  She’d been relieved at his departure for other reasons, too.

  There didn’t seem to be much use in trying to hide from it anymore: her feelings for Edward had changed, and the knowledge chilled her to the bone.

  She had always thought he was handsome. Even on the first day they had met, when he had coaxed her down from her hiding place and she had wanted to run from him, to be anywhere other than facing him across a carpet of fallen leaves, she had been struck by the knowledge that his face was the most comely she had ever seen. That initial attraction, a product of the most basic animal instinct, had been tempered by her utter contempt for his class, his way of life and everything he stood for.

  His class hadn’t changed, and neither had the life of privilege that was all he had ever known—but it seemed to matter less now, the gulf between them, and that was what frightened her. He’d given her glimpses of the real man behind the good manners and polite smiles, and she liked what she had seen. His grief for his father had shown her his vulnerability, and his care for her in the face of her own sorrow had left her in no doubt as to the kindness of his heart.

  While she had felt nothing but mere physical attraction to him, she had been safe. Now she wasn’t sure how close to danger she was straying.

  Out in the yard she saddled Djali herself, with automatic swiftness, although the stable lads hovered a short distance away. Ever since she’d refused their offer of a side-saddle some weeks previously they had watched with undisguised fascination each time she’d mounted, half aghast and half admiring of her insistence on riding astride.

  Passing them now, as she rode out from the yard, she raised a hand in greeting and saw their heads bob in reply.

  Once out of their hearing she leaned forward to pat the horse’s grey neck. ‘Isn’t this better, Djali? Out in the open air, just you and me?’

  The horse flicked his ears at her voice and lengthened his stride. He cantered easily down the long gravel drive, bearing Selina smoothly through the imposing wrought-iron gates and away from Blackwell Hall.

  Try as she might to ignore him, Edward wouldn’t leave her mind as she rode. He seemed to impose upon her more and more inescapably—both in real life and when she laid her head down on her luxurious pillow to dream—and it seemed even the freezing late-November air couldn’t shock some sense into her.

  I had hoped a day away from him would help me gather my wits. It seems I was wrong.

  She didn’t want to feel this way. No good could c
ome of it. She was under no illusion that Edward felt anything for her other than a duty of care, and she shouldn’t allow herself to think otherwise. A marriage of convenience was what he had wanted, specifically with no finer feelings involved—and that was what she must give him, despite any stupid, confusing, ridiculous thoughts to the contrary.

  Her determination to disregard her feelings, however, hadn’t stopped them from betraying her at every turn. Small, insignificant gestures from Edward insisted on taking on greater magnitude in her despairing mind. Each time his hand brushed hers as he helped her into the saddle her heart would skip a beat, and his smile as she played fetch with old Tips was endearing.

  But he wouldn’t want her affection, nor welcome it if she were foolish enough to let it show, and it was growing harder day by day to keep secret the stirrings she feared would so disturb her stoic husband.

  The Roma camp looked just as it had the day she’d left it. The vardos still stood in a semi-circle around the cooking pits, their painted wooden sides gleaming in the wintry sunlight and their owners milling about busily, and the camp’s horses still grazed in the makeshift paddock or were tethered to stakes driven into the ground.

  At the sound of Djali’s approaching hoofbeats one of the women—Selina’s cousin Florentia—looked up sharply. Selina saw the apprehension in her kinswoman’s face change to surprise as she registered who was riding into the camp, and she felt her spirits soar as surprise was in turn replaced by a wide beam of welcome.

  ‘Cousin!’ Florentia dropped the knife she had been using to peel vegetables and rushed towards her, arms outstretched.

  Selina dismounted and reached out towards the other woman, who enveloped her in a tight embrace.

  ‘Cousin. My poor cousin. You don’t know how good it is to see you. We’ve all been so worried about you, all alone up there in that great house!’