To Protect and to Cherish

by Becky Riker

  Slade was pleased that she wanted to go on a trip with him. He hadn’t been able to tell when he suggested it. Of course, they did seem to be getting closer as of late.

  He left in the morning with the hope to be returning the following evening.

  Jillian went out to the stables as soon as he left the yard.

  “Peter, could you saddle Gacela for me?”

  Peter had been a little nervous about displeasing his mistress since the day she had scolded him.

  “Begging your pardon, milady, but she seems to be favoring her foot a bit.”

  Jillian was instantly concerned, “Which one?”

  Peter allowed her into the stall to see Gacela.

  “Do you think she has an infection?” she probed the animal’s foot.

  “I do. I soaked it in warm water and salt this morning.”

  Jillian rose and rubbed at the mare’s neck, “Thank you, Peter.”

  She backed out of the stall, “Will you keep me informed on her progress, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She stood in indecision, “I may as well take Salvaje for his walk now.”

  Peter nodded, “I’ll go fetch him.”

  Jillian sat down on a nearby bench and watched how gently the gelding came to Peter and allowed himself to be dressed for riding.

  She approached as Peter was leading the horse toward the lane, “How has he been doing when you ride?”

  Peter smiled, pleased to be discussing the horse’s progress, “He’s as gentle as a lamb most of the time.”

  “Oh?” she took the reins, “has he shown a little temper?”

  “Not really,” he stepped back, “but I get the feeling he could if he wanted.”

  Jillian nodded and thanked the man.

  About halfway up the lane, Jillian began thinking about Peter’s words. If he only had a hunch that the horse had a wild streak in him, what was the holdup with allowing her to ride?

  She continued to walk, but the thought wouldn’t leave her alone. She could ride him just a few feet and then get off. It wouldn’t hurt anything.

  Jillian led Salvaje up to the gate of the west field so she could climb on his back. He seemed to take it very well. She settled herself and her skirts and then clicked at him to move forward.

  He didn’t move.

  She pulled at his rein and clicked again, but that produced the same result.

  Jillian touched her heels lightly to his belly.

  It was as if a volcano erupted. Salvaje took off running so fast, Jillian had to lean forward and grasp his mane to remain in the saddle. He ran the entire distance of the west field before stopping abruptly with no prompting from her.

  Not that she wanted him to keep racing like his tail was on fire; Jillian simply didn’t have the ability to pull on the reins and hold on at the same time.

  Her arms and legs were shaking from the rush of nervous energy. The beast below her seemed to be unaffected by his show of temper.

  She looked out over the field. It would take her over an hour to walk the uneven ground back to the lane from which she had come. She wasn’t sure if her legs would support her that long. She was not, however, going to try to direct the animal back across the field.

  She sat in indecision for a little too long. Salvaje made the choice for her. He turned back to where he had come from and ran – possibly faster than before – to the lane.

  When he arrived at the gate, he stopped abruptly again, but then rose up on his hind legs. Jillian went sliding back. She grasped at his mane, then the saddle, but she was not able to prevent her fall to the ground below.

  Before she had time to react to the rapid dismount, the monster, having outdone himself in his latest tantrum, fell on top of her.

  Jillian found herself pinned beneath Salvaje, wondering if she had done any serious damage to her person.

  The horse snorted his displeasure at his current position but made no move to get up.

  Jillian realized that the ground was fairly soft from the recent rains and she determined she was not in a great deal of pain. However, the sensation of her legs being pressed into the muck by a disobedient animal was less than pleasant.

  “You naughty mule,” she spoke unkindly to the gelding, “get off my legs.”

  He snorted again, and she wondered if he had injured himself.

  She reached up and gave him a slight smack.

  He shuddered and struggled to his feet, then had the gall to look down at her as if nothing was wrong.

  Jillian took a fortifying breath and pushed herself to her feet. She stood for a moment before taking a few tentative steps and was grateful to find all her limbs worked.

  She put her hands on her hips, “I should tell the master about your little shenanigan,” she pointed a finger at him. “He’d get rid of you for sure.”

  The horse was neither offended nor frightened by her threat.

  Jillian looked down at her riding costume. It was quite a mess. She stomped up to the lane, pleased that the horse had enough sense to follow her.

  She sat down on a large rock and removed her hat, “I need to fix my hair,” she spoke in an accusing tone to the source of her trouble. “I refuse to go back to the stables looking as though I have been bested by a half-wit.”

  She repaired her hair, refastened her hat, and then brushed off her habit to the best of her ability.

  She may raise a few eyebrows at her appearance, but it would not raise a great concern.

  When she was convinced she had done all she could to clean herself, she took Salvaje’s reins and led him toward the stables.

  When it was within sight, Sam ran up to her, “Are you done with him, Miss? I can take him the rest of the way, if you like.”

  Jillian had no trouble conjuring a genuine smile for the stable boy – especially as he had not mentioned her altered appearance, “Thank you.”

  She turned and took the path to the house, hoping to avoid the housekeeper and anyone else who would ask questions.

  She made it to her room before someone spotted her.

  “Did you fall into a ditch, Miss?” Erin was standing at her mistress’s door.

  Jillian couldn’t stop the wry smile from creasing her lips, “Worse. Come help me out of this mess, please.”

  Jillian knew Erin wasn’t going to say anything, but she still hated that someone knew of her ignominious morning.

  “Well, Miss,” Erin was smiling as she helped Jillian dress after her bath, “I guess you know now how he got his name.”

  Jillian laughed, “At least that mystery is solved.”

  Slade returned the next afternoon to a sore wife. He found her in the corridor, on her way to speak to Bailey.

  He glanced behind her to make sure there were no witnesses, and then pulled her to his chest.

  She lifted her face for the kiss she knew was coming, but had some difficulty doing so without gritting her teeth from the pain of his actions.

  His lips moved in a whisper as they met her lips, “I missed you.”

  Jillian’s heart raced as it always did when he kissed her, and she was almost able to ignore that his hand was pressed against the particularly large bruise on her shoulder blade.

  “You are back earlier than I expected,” she fisted his lapels and pulled him backward into the parlor.

  He grinned as he shut the door behind them, “I was able to finish everything last night, so I left this morning.”

  She slid her arms around his neck, “I am glad you did.”

  He dropped his hands from her shoulders and clasped them behind her back instead, “Any particular reason?”

  She affected a nonchalant shrug, “I just like looking at you.”

  Slade bent his head to kiss her cheek, “The feeling is mutual.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “Have you decided where you would like to go for our holiday?”

  They were sharing coffee in their sitting room after supper.

  “I hadn
’t given it much thought,” she teased. “Perhaps Bermuda?”

  “That will be a problem,” he took a sip. “We will need to be back by Christmas or Amy will have our heads.”

  Jillian set her cup down and leaned back slightly in her seat, “It has been so long since I have been anywhere, it scarcely matters.”

  Slade looked a trifle disappointed at her answer.

  “I believe it is usually the bridegroom who decides where to take the lady on the wedding trip.”

  He fiddled with the handle on his cup, “I do not want you to be disappointed.”

  “Slade,” she leaned across the small space and took his hand, “we have had little time together since our wedding – and disturbingly little prior to that. It will be nice to have a bit of time with no distractions. Perhaps, it would be best if we find a little deserted cottage somewhere.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “We would certainly get to know each other then,” she rationalized her suggestion. “Probably more than we wish.”

  He chuckled, “Familiarity breeds contempt?”

  She nodded.

  “I can leave as soon as I finish the trenching plans with Tellem and Easton.”

  “And that will be?”

  “A week. Two at the most.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Slade and Jillian sat in the breakfast room a little longer than usual, knowing they would not have a chance to see each other until the evening.

  “Is Amy coming over today to help you pack?” he had pushed his plate aside and was now just watching her eat.

  “She said she would be here in time for morning tea.”

  He snorted, “Expect her midday.”

  Jillian just smiled. She had become accustomed to her sister-in-law’s tardiness.

  “I hope to be in by supper, but do not wait for me if I am not.”

  “Are you sure we do not need to postpone our departure one more day?”

  He rose and kissed her forehead, “We’ve postponed it twice. I will not do it again.”

  She stood, “Are you certain? I do not want to cause you problems in the spring because you did not spend enough time on this now.”

  “I am certain. Tellem and Easton can work out any more kinks.”

  “I suppose you are done playing in the mud and dirt then?” she referred to the disgraceful way he had come home last week.

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and closed the space between them, “You sound jealous, Lady Ashley.”

  “Of being knee-deep in mud, having a drenched coat, and destroying the seat of a perfectly good pair of breeches.”

  His predatory smiled told her she had said the wrong thing, “How do you know I destroyed the seat of them?”

  Jillian sputtered, “Milord, I believe this conversation is beneath you, but if you insist on knowing, I heard it from the scullery maid who was made to scrub them out.”

  He grinned as if he did not believe her.

  She pushed him from herself, “Go. Do your work or your wife will be irritated at you deferring her pleasure trip again.”

  He left the great house whistling.

  Amy was not on time, but she was not so late that Jillian had taken tea without her.

  “Do you know where he is taking you yet?”

  Jillian stirred the sugar into her beverage, “No, but he said we’ll be gone two weeks.”

  Amy took a cucumber sandwich, “Slade has always been rather serious. It is interesting to watch him with you.”

  Jillian stopped stirring, “What do you mean?”

  “Planning a surprise, leaving the estate for two weeks – it is all so carefree. He is a different and better man with you, Jillian.”

  “I am certain he was always a good man, Amy,” Jillian could tell by the way his staff and tenants treated him.

  “Yes. He was honorable and kind, but he has never taken time to just be human.”

  Jillian couldn’t process that information right now, so she changed the subject, “When are you coming to ride with me?”

  “I don’t know, Jill,” Amy shortened her name, “it still seems dangerous – even if you do it all the time.”

  “Now that Gacela’s foot is better, you can ride her. She’s about as energetic as Cook’s bread pudding.”

  Amy laughed at the comparison, “I’m still thinking about it. I’ll let you know when you get back from your mysterious journey.”

  Amy stayed long enough to offer her opinion on which clothes should be packed. Since they had no idea where Slade was taking Jillian, she had to pack more.

  “I should have had him tell you, and you could have just packed for me,” Jillian looked at all the trunks.

  “That wouldn’t have worked,” Amy debated over a heavier dressing gown, “I cannot keep a secret at all.”

  Jillian walked her to her carriage shortly after that. The duchess decided to take a short walk to stretch her legs.

  She passed by Salvaje in the pasture and glared at him. He flipped his mane at her, seeming to taunt her with his past behavior.

  Jillian spun on her heel and marched to the stable where Peter was instructing a new stable boy on how to clean hooves.

  She waited until he had finished.

  “Peter,” she gained his attention.

  “Milady,” he bowed slightly, “do you wish to ride today?”

  “I think not,” she had ridden the day previous, and had much to do before the morrow, “I am simply wondering how much progress you are making with Salvaje.”

  He looked down at his feet, “It is not going well, milady.”

  Jillian knew the man was uneasy about displeasing her and that he would likely not tell her the whole story without prompting.

  “Have you been riding him?”

  “I have, but he isn’t very manageable yet.”

  She could attest to that, “What seems to be the problem? I thought you said he was so gentle.”

  Peter grimaced, “He is a different animal out of the pen than in, milady.”

  Jillian felt as if the secret had just been exposed.

  “He is tame as ever a horse was while we’re in the ring or the pasture, but as soon as we take him out, he turns into a beast.”

  “Has anyone been injured?”

  She hoped not because she might have been able to prevent it by telling them the truth.

  “No, milady. I didn’t fall from his back – I held on when he tried to throw me.”

  Jillian smiled at him, “I am glad to hear that, Peter.”

  The man seemed relieved that she wasn’t annoyed with him.

  “Will you continue to work with him or are you going to suggest his grace should give him up?”

  Peter’s expression became tense again.

  “Have you told him?” she pressed on.

  “No, milady. Not yet.”

  She didn’t think her husband would ever put someone on an animal without checking with his groom first, but having an animal like Salvaje could be dangerous.

  “Would you like me to tell him?”

  Peter’s eyes widened.

  “It is not a threat, Peter,” she almost laughed. “I know my husband has been busy, but he regards your opinion of these horses and trusts you to tell him when one of them is in danger or is a danger to others. If you prefer to inform him of the matter yourself, you should be aware he will be home late tonight and leaving in the morning.”

  Peter looked at her as if he had never seen her before. He exhaled a breath she thought he must have been holding and gave her a small smile, “Thank you, milady. I will attempt to speak to him before your journey.”

  Jillian walked slowly back to the house, enjoying the warmth of the sun. After the week of cool, rainy weather, the heat had returned. Jillian could not think of a year when November was so pleasant.

  It was not even close to dinner time, and Jillian was out of things to do. She normally kept herself busy, but her excitement for the upcoming trip was making
the day seem to drag.

  She decided to see if Cook would allow her to help in the kitchen. Some days the woman gave her small jobs, other days she seemed annoyed by the idea of having the duchess underfoot.

  “Hello, Cook,” she met the older woman in the pantry, “can I trouble you with something to keep my mind and hands busy this afternoon?”

  The corners of that woman’s eyes crinkled in amusement, “I suppose you’re getting ready to leave on your trip?”

  Jillian nodded.

  Cook led her into the kitchen where the door was open to the kitchen garden, “I could give you something to do, but I think you might find it on your own,” she pointed to the man sitting outside the door on a bench.

  Jillian laughed and thanked the woman before walking out the kitchen door.

  Slade looked up at her in surprise. He had been using a stick to scrape some of the clay from his boots. His hair was damp with sweat, causing it to curl around the edges. His cheeks were pink from some unknown exertion.

  “Jillian!”

  She sat down next to him, though there was scarcely room for her, “I see you did not manage to stay clean today either.”

  He set his foot down, “I was hoping to sneak in without you seeing me.”

  She laughed at that, “Why don’t you just take them off and leave them here?” she pointed at the boots.

  “And walk in my stockings through the halls?”

  “I do it,” she whispered.

  “You have skirts to hide your feet.”

  She took the stick from his hand and then knelt in front of him. He didn’t move.

  She looked up expectantly.

  With an air of curiosity, he raised his foot.

  She looked down and focused on the task before her.

  “I suppose it would be a great scandal to have the master of the house walking about in a state of undress.”

  He smirked at her.

  She finished the first boot and held out her hand for the second, “However, I recall you standing in your study with just your waistcoat on.”

  He allowed her to scrape the mud from the bottom of his boot, “At least I put my coat back on before I left the room.”

  She scraped a large clump from the edge of his boot, “You were walking about the fields with only your shirt just a few weeks ago.”