My Forbidden Mentor

by Laura Mills

  Her impatience got the better of her. She knew he had said something but not what. She pushed further, “What was that? I didn’t hear you,” she inquired and was witness to his state of frustration as his hands were wiping with rough motions over his face followed by an audible sound of irritation. He started turning around to face her when his name was spoken in a heightened tone, loud enough to be heard outside.

  “John, why won’t you answer me?”

  John dropped the reins to his horse and headed toward Melissa with purpose in his stride, ending up inches away from her. “Will you lower your voice? Your father will hear you,” he ordered, at the same time motioning with his hand in the direction of her house. “We will talk about this but not right now, not today. Another time when we have privacy.”

  Her face remained stern, but he was right. Her father couldn’t know what had happened. “All right,” she answered.

  As she agreed his features softened. “Give your father my apologies regarding supper please,” he said, staring into her eyes for a minute longer. “I must be off. I’ll see you Wednesday,” he told her and retrieved Clara before leaving the barn.

  Chapter Ten

  The very next day Melissa was on her way to John’s country manor. She had tossed and turned all night thinking about a resolution and had decided that waiting until Wednesday to talk to him may be too late for what she had planned. The quicker they resolved this issue the better. They had serious training to continue with.

  She had been to his place one time and hoped she remembered how to get there. As she came around a group of bushy trees the landscape opened up and in the near distance she saw three groups of stables that could only belong to John. As she reined in her gelding along the stone drive to his manor, the splendid bodies of thoroughbreds parading the corrals distracted her. Her original intentions were forgotten as she admired John’s beautiful horses, but by the time she arrived at the front door, anxious anticipation had set in again. What kind of resolution would they come to? Would courage remain with her if she were forced to find another trainer? She slid off her gelding and tied him to a sturdy branch. Taking a deep breath she stepped toward the front door and rang the bell.

  “Good day Miss Howard,” Charles greeted.

  Charles had caught her off guard with his good memory. “Good day Charles. You remember me?”

  “Yes my lady,” Charles smiled.

  “I’m impressed,” Melissa commented.

  “Come my lady.” He gestured with his hand. “How may I help you today? Are you looking for Lord Blackburn?”

  She admired the entryway while responding to Charles. “Yes, I am here to see John, uh, Lord Blackburn.”

  Charles smiled at her blunder and then offered, “He’s not here at present, but I do expect him shortly. Is he expecting you?”

  She tore her focus away from the paintings of horses that graced the entryway walls. “Well no, Charles, he isn’t. I don’t mind waiting, though.”

  “Then may I offer you some tea while you wait?”

  “Thank you. I would like that.”

  “Would you care to wait in the sitting room?” he asked, his hand motioning to a room off to the left of the long and wide entryway.

  Melissa smiled, stepping toward the sitting room. “That’s fine, thank you.”

  Three quarters of an hour passed by and Melissa turned fidgety. Already being nervous about the conversation she planned to discuss with John, further waiting sorely tested her courage. Charles had walked by once already, giving her an apologetic look. It was obvious that he had expected John by now. It wasn’t his fault. Perhaps she could explore the library. She remembered John telling her the library was one of his favorite rooms in his manor, and she loved to read.

  She rose from the sable colored couch, set her teacup on a walnut side table, and began her journey to discover the library.

  Charles startled her from behind. “Miss Howard, are you looking for something specific?”

  Melissa jumped. “Oh, yes. The library. I was searching for the library.”

  “That would be the double door at the end of the hall.” Charles pointed in the direction before being called away by the housekeeper. “Excuse me.”

  “Thank you,” she started to tell him, but he had disappeared.

  As her half boots glided along earth colored tiles she continued in the direction of the library, admiring the many gallant paintings of stallions and mares John had. She stopped in front of one in particular of a small boy with black hair sitting atop a solid white Arabian. John, she thought. She continued the few remaining steps to the library.

  Her hand went to the doorknob when a distinct sound came from inside the room. She leaned closer, putting her ear to the door before opening it. At first she heard groans and wondered if John had a hangover again. She was about to open the door to lecture him about his drinking when she heard another voice. This one was feminine and she groaned also. Could they both have hangovers? Perhaps, but what was a woman doing alone with him in the library? She knew this to be none of her business. After all, she had pushed John away, stating that they couldn’t have that type of relationship. Even so, she continued to torture herself by keeping her ear glued to the door.

  “Don’t stop love,” she heard the feminine voice say.

  “Never,” she heard the male voice groan out.

  Melissa’s mouth fell open, shocked by what she was hearing. This man and woman, John and somebody, were apparently doing very private things to one another. Well he didn’t wait very long did he? She should have known she was another conquest. Men! Why couldn’t they be satisfied with one woman? Why is this bothering me so much? She continued listening, knowing she shouldn’t.

  “That’s it love,” the female voice cried out. A groaned response sounded in return.

  Her hand came off the doorknob. Bursting in wouldn’t solve anything and she would come off like a jealous mistress. Instead she headed for the front door, her pace picking up faster and faster. Why did Charles lie about John’s whereabouts? Well that should be obvious Melissa of course he’s going to obey his lord’s wishes. Perhaps Charles himself was unaware? And why should it matter. John didn’t expect you, and you had your chance. If you wanted to be with him you had your chance and you didn’t take it. Relief spread through her at the same time a stinging of tears formed in her eyes. I don’t need this heartache anyway, she thought.

  Charles saw a golden streak dart by and wondered what had happened. He set down his polishing rags and went to her. “Miss Howard?” he called out.

  John’s morning in town had been productive. Encountering numerous business opportunities helped to lift his mood. He intended to spend the rest of the day deciding how to handle Melissa. In blatant denial, she wouldn’t acknowledge the pleasure they’d had. Her words spoke of how wrong it was and John would have agreed in the beginning, but the passion they had experienced had been undeniable. He couldn’t comprehend how she could forget the experience. He wondered what her secret was for forgetting, he’d like to know, but instead reality wouldn’t allow him to ignore the obvious.

  Nearing his manor, his mare trailed down the worn, grassy path at a leisurely pace. John hadn’t been in a hurry as he had plenty of thinking to do. His relationship with Melissa had turned chaotic. His options were narrowing. Could he continue to work with her without touching her? Should he forget their arrangement so he could touch her? Was he a complete fool to think this arrangement would work in the first place? There were plenty of risks to be taken involving her.

  Answers began surfacing like a bright sun breaking through a mass of clouds. Melissa would rather keep their intended arrangement and forge ahead, not thinking about any consequences whatsoever. Forget any attraction at all between them, as long as she was able to race nothing else mattered.

  He was pondering in disappointment when he heard the sound of horse hooves slamming into his cobblestone drive. He was a few hundred yards from his drive w
hen he saw a flash of gold streak by on a horse of gray. Melissa? What did she want? And why is she riding away as if her life depended on it? She looked upset. He had better go after her.

  Just reaching the outskirts of his property at full speed, Melissa heard a familiar voice calling her name. At first she ignored it. Why should she bother responding to a libertine lord who had his way with her and every other woman he baited? He might want to apologize but it wouldn’t work with her.

  Abruptly she felt doomed. She had let their physical attraction advance and it had jeopardized their business relationship, spoiling any chance of success for them. It was especially true for her. Her chance was blown, but she wasn’t the only one to blow it. All of a sudden her vision became blurred from an outbreak of tears and again she heard her name being called, louder this time. Out of hurt and disappointment and sheer anger, she shifted to acknowledge him.

  He was motioning for her to slow down. He seemed urgent, almost frantic for her to stop, but she figured he was using his overpowering sense of self to get his way. When she turned back around she was faced with a dilemma, one that required a decision to be made in a split second.

  A thick bush stood straight in front of Melissa and her gelding. She had involuntarily steered Thunder for dead center of the bush. Her pulling efforts to steer clear of disaster met with another challenge, a confrontation with a covey of quail that came fluttering out, trying to escape the massive beast of horseflesh running straight for them. Unexpectedly Thunder reared, causing Melissa to lose her grip on the reins. She tried regaining control when he reared again. Instead of gaining control, she could feel herself lifting from the saddle. Out of desperation she grabbed for his neck when he stood erect one more time. Her ardent grasps resulted in hanging on by his mane. The gelding’s head shook violently, his body rearing again as the wings of quail flapped around him. His mane came free from her fingers and she was falling toward the ground. “God help me,” she prayed. Her eyes closed and her breath stopped and in the next instant her body pounded into the earth.

  With eyes squeezed shut, she endured an unforeseen explosion of pain stomped into her body from the gelding’s jittery hooves. Sharp reflexive pains shot through her right calf as she lay there stifled without an ounce of energy to move. Keeping her eyes shut as if to withstand another expected jab of agony, seconds went by and nothing more happened. Silence filled the air around her as if all the startled animals involved had disappeared at once. She blamed herself for what had just happened. Thunder would never intentionally hurt her. She had led him into this disaster. She herself hadn’t seen it coming but John had, and because of her defensive emotions she ignored his warning.

  Her eyes opened after everything had stayed quiet. Subconsciously her hand grabbed at her right calf. A throbbing discomfort stemmed from that part of her leg, keeping her immobile. Glancing around it was apparent that Thunder had vanished. Had he deserted her? Panic set in, seizing any movement in her until she heard the rustling sound of the bushes. John called out to her, sounding as panicked as she was feeling. Two solitary tears streamed down her cheeks in relief that John had found her.

  When he saw her lying on the ground in pain it shook him miserably. He rushed to her side, and saw that her hands were cradling her leg, so he squatted down next to her and lifted her hands away so he could see her leg for himself. Pushing her skirt up to expose the wound, he pressed in light motions around the hoof-indented marks left on her swollen calf. She winced as he touched and cried aloud, “John it hurts.”

  “I know sweetheart,” he said, continuing to thoroughly examine her injuries.

  Her head lay still on the ground as her eyes watched the caring expression he had while looking over her injury. His endearment made her feel special and for a brief moment she cherished his closeness. He seemed truly concerned despite his previous actions. Another rustling of bushes sounded, veering Melissa’s attention.

  John and Melissa both looked up toward the nearing noise. Charles rounded the bush on horseback. “Lord Blackburn, Miss Howard, are you in need of assistance?” he asked in a state of alarm.

  John stood and Melissa tried sitting up. John caught her motion. “Don’t move,” he told her, stepping toward Charles. “Yes Charles. I need you to fetch Dr. Bennett please. Tell him it’s urgent. I’ll bring Miss Howard to the manor myself.”

  Charles nodded, reining his horse in the direction of the doctor.

  “Charles,” Melissa shouted to stop him. John looked at her, bewildered. Charles stopped immediately. She turned to John. “John, I think it would be better if I went home.”

  “But it’s closer to my manor. You shouldn’t be moving a lot until we know what’s wrong,” he cautioned, but the pleading within her shimmering eyes made him give in. He gave Charles new instructions. “Charles, have Dr. Bennett go to Miss Howard’s home in Scotch Corner. Jess knows the location.”

  With a nod Charles complied, “Yes my lord. I will locate Jess right away.” Charles left in a fit of speed before John could thank him.

  John led his mare next to Melissa then went to retrieve her gelding. He’d been a short distance away, feeding on masses of grass. When John brought him alongside his mare Melissa asked in a worried tone, “Is he all right John?”

  John rigged up the horses, readying them to go, when he responded, “He seems to be fine. My concern is with you.” His brows creased in aggravation. Her concern for others was overwhelming when she remained the worst injured party. “Are you sure you can handle the ride to your cabin?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered, trying to rise on her good leg but failing.

  In a flash John advanced toward her. “Damn it all, would you stay still? You could cause further injury to yourself.” Her face filled with anguish as her hand went to comfort her swollen calf. John exhaled, frustrated and angry. He cursed himself for lashing out at her like he did. He squatted down next to her again, his tone softening considerably. “Melissa let me help you. I’m almost ready. Give me another moment and I’ll take you home.”

  “I don’t need your help or anyone else’s,” she exploded, knowing how ridiculous she sounded and knowing she wouldn’t get anywhere without his help. But she was upset with him, grateful and upset at the same time. Continuing to haunt her was the incident in the library, but not for long as another sharp pain shot through her leg, making her cry out.

  Infuriated with her attitude and obstinate disposition, he took matters into his own hands. “Damn it to hell,” he said aloud, and wrapped his arms around her, arranging her to be carried. Ignoring her protests he strode over to his mare with Melissa gathered in his arms. Coaxing his mare into a laying position, carefully he stepped over the mare and eased down, aiming for the saddle. About half way down he encouraged Clara to stand. After a mild adjustment John began his journey with one arm dedicated to holding Melissa, his other handling the reins of both the mare and the gelding.

  They rode in silence except for an occasional sniffle from Melissa. Any jarring movement at all sent a new flare of pain through her injured calf.

  “Shh, it’s not much further,” John would whisper, trying to console her.

  When they arrived at her home Miss Beckett helped as much as possible but her strength didn’t match John’s. He took over by carrying Melissa to the couch in the sitting room, figuring the stairs would add further discomfort when she could walk again.

  Miss Beckett brought blankets and pillows from Melissa’s room, making her as comfortable as possible, and then she retrieved fresh tea and offered John his choice of drink. He chose brandy.

  While Melissa rested John stood before the front window, sipping his drink and staring out into nothing. His mind was lost and confused as not knowing the extent of her injury bothered him. Could she ever ride again? And if she couldn’t, what a horrible fate to overcome, especially for Melissa.Then there were her outbursts, which he assumed came from the pain she was feeling, but why had she run from his manor? The sou
nd of hooves thudding into the ground interrupted his thoughts. The doctor had arrived.

  After careful examination Dr. Bennett looked up into faces of concern. John, Miss Beckett, and Mr. Howard all stood around Melissa, waiting with struggling patience for the doctor’s prognosis.

  Dr. Bennett lifted to stand, collecting his supplies. “Well Miss Howard, it seems you have a contusion. What this means,” he said as he straightened with his supplies in his hand, “is that the strike of your horse’s hoof caused deep bruising and tearing to your calf muscle.” The doctor caught everyone wincing but his patient. “The swelling and pain are normal, of course, but functionality is sometimes questionable. Initially you will need to stay off it to bring the swelling down, but once most of the pain is gone you can begin stretching it and walking on it again.” He kneeled next to her. “Because of the extent of damage done, mainly from the weight of the horse, it may never heal completely, meaning you may be left with a limp.” Everyone remained quiet and the doctor sympathized with Melissa. “I’m sorry about that, but the good news is you will be able to walk again, almost normally, depending on how hard you work at it and how cooperative the muscle is.”

  The idea that she was left with a limp hadn’t sunk in yet. Her main concern dealt with her ability to race again. She looked to John then back to Dr. Bennett. “Will I be able to ride again Dr. Bennett?” she asked with shakiness to her voice.

  John prayed in silence that the doctor would say yes.

  Dr. Bennett smiled to reassure her as best he could. “I can’t say for sure. It will depend on how well the muscle heals and how strong it becomes with regular exercise,” he told her and rose again. “Rest for now and I’ll check on you in one week. Meanwhile I’ve given your aunt instructions to help you. Take care.”

  John walked the doctor out to his carriage.

  When John returned he saw that Melissa’s aunt and father were reassuring her by giving her hope that everything would be all right. John stood in the doorway a moment studying her reaction to them. Detachment is what he saw. He guessed that her thoughts dwelled on the doctor’s words. She responded to her family’s suggestions but her response was distant.