by Lower, Becky
Valerian kept interrupting his musings, though. The lad wanted to know everything about riding fast horses.
“You should come out one day to the ranch, and I’ll show you my horse, the fastest of them all.”
“Oh, can we, Papa?”
Alistair and George paused in their conversation. Alistair smiled at Valerian’s enthusiasm, then turned back to George. “I am hosting an afternoon of riding this weekend, so people can test our mounts, and see the superb horseflesh we brought from England. Would you and your family be interested in joining us?”
Mr. Fitzpatrick’s eyes darted quickly to Charlotte, who was beaming. “Well, that would be most delightful, Alistair. My youngest son has visions of being a cowboy out west, so we’d be happy to accept.” Valerian nodded his head rapidly in agreement.
Parr studied Jasmine closely. Her skin had paled at the announcement of the outing. Hmmm, it seemed riding horseback was not to young Miss Fitzpatrick’s liking. That was all the opening he needed.
• • •
Jasmine sat quietly while her mother brushed her long hair later that night. This was a ritual begun years ago, and one of Jasmine’s favorites. Charlotte’s hand followed the brush, smoothing Jasmine’s silky locks, as they discussed their dinner conversation with the viscount.
“Which riding habit should you wear tomorrow?” Charlotte asked.
“What difference could it possibly make, Mother?” Jasmine popped a mint into her mouth and began to suck on it. “They’re all from last year, and every woman there will know it. Who else did he invite to this little get-together of his, anyway? Not that awful Mrs. Harper, I hope.”
The brush clattered to the dressing table from Charlotte’s hand. “Oh dear. Maybe she will be there, and quite possibly another who he met this week at the Harpers’s dinner. Lydia Smith will no doubt be in attendance, so you must prepare to put your best foot forward.”
Jasmine bit her bottom lip as she studied her reflection in the mirror. If only Heather were here to help. Then she truly could be her best. She smoothed her arched eyebrows and turned toward her mother.
“I declare I’m already at a disadvantage, since Mrs. Smith has the means to purchase whatever habit she wants. She’ll outshine me in apparel, that much is a certainty.”
“Then you must outshine her in wit and intelligence. Your father knows her, and tells me she’s a stimulating conversationalist, so you must be better.”
“I bet that’s not the only thing she stimulates … ” Jasmine growled under her breath.
“Now, dear, such harsh talk will do no one any good. Let’s put our heads together and come up with a plan. If I can draw her away from Mr. Wickersham and attempt to engage Lydia in conversation, the way will be clear for you to take up the spot next to his horse. Then all you need do is flutter your eyes at him, and tell him his horse may be a fine specimen, but you rather appreciate the man atop the horse better.”
Jasmine inhaled a long breath at her mother’s words. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
Charlotte’s hands fluttered through the air. “Or words to that effect, my dear. Gracious, you don’t need me to put words in your mouth. You’ve been flirting with every boy you’ve come across since you were a little girl, regardless of their station. You know what you need to do.”
Jasmine drew a large breath, bringing her shoulders up to her ears before she spoke. “What do you think of him, really? I mean, if not for his title, would you find him a good match for me?”
“Ah, but he does have a title. You can’t consider him in bits and pieces. Yes, he’s a little older than I would prefer, but on the other hand, he may be able to tame your impetuous nature because of his maturity. Yes, if anyone can benefit from marriage to an older man, it’s you. Ooh, just think of it. My daughter, a viscountess! I can barely wait to send out the wedding invitations!”
In spite of her misgivings, Jasmine smiled up at her mother. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mother. I have yet to capture his interest, much less his heart. You scrutinized him at dinner tonight. He virtually ignored me, while his stable boy kept bumping my feet under the table with his big boots.”
“So tomorrow will be just what we need to get his vision focused on you. It will be a big challenge, especially if Lydia Smith, in all her muskiness, is there. But I have faith in you, dear.” Charlotte ran her hand down Jasmine’s soft cheek. “How can he resist this face, once he truly sees you?”
“I will try my best, Mother, to be front and center at all times tomorrow.”
“That’s all I ask of you, my dear. And that you smile frequently. You have such lovely teeth. This man could be the key to your future.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Goodnight.” Charlotte stood up and left the room, humming a tune under her breath.
Chapter Six
Parr had the horses saddled and ready for the large Fitzpatrick family and the few other guests that had been invited to the Bronx for the day. The paddock was a bit chaotic as horses and riders mingled, each person attempting to find their perfect mount. Laughter and loud talk filled the air as the jovial crowd got themselves organized. Parr was busy giving advice about the pairings, adjusting stirrups, and helping people mount up.
He noticed Jasmine the moment she arrived. How could he not? The crackle of excitement when she was in the vicinity made his hair stand on end. But it was evident she wasn’t aware of the same current. She was acting exceedingly uncomfortable in her riding habit, with its tight sleeves, wide skirt, and high-heeled boots. He observed her closely as she bent over in the paddock, lifted her skirt a bit, and tugged on her bootlace, hard.
She stood as the last of the group prepared to leave the paddock, and took the reins that Parr offered her. Alistair, her parents, and Lydia Smith all paced their mounts around the yard, waiting for her. She glanced down at her feet.
“Oh, dear, I’ve broken a lace on my boot. Please do go on without me. I’ll catch up as soon as I repair the lace.”
“Are you certain, dear? I can stay and help you fix it, if that would help.” Charlotte’s stern eyes met her daughter’s and she pointed with her chin toward Alistair, who was hanging on Lydia Smith’s every word.
“Yes, go along. I’ll not be far behind.”
Without further delay the group left the paddock, leaving Parr and Jasmine, with one filly, in the enclosure.
Parr took the reins back from her. He was close enough to smell her heavenly scent of lavender water. Intoxicating.
She still looked unsettled, and made no move to fix her boot. He decided to take a chance.
“So why are you afraid of horses?”
She turned toward him, and sputtered. “I’m not afraid. I merely broke a shoelace.”
“Aye, intentionally.”
Her head snapped up. “I did not!”
“Then why are you making no attempt to fix it and be on your way?” He smiled at her to soften his words. “What happened to cause your fear of horses?”
Jasmine sighed and turned her back to him. The tear she brushed from her cheek tore at his heart.
“This is all Heather’s fault!”
“And who might Heather be?”
She whipped back around to him, eyes blazing. “She’s my sister. My identical twin. She’s supposed to cover for me whenever I’m asked to go riding, but she married last summer, and is now in Missouri with her husband. So now I’m forced to ride, whether I want to or not. After all, it’s what fashionable ladies do for exercise.”
“And how long has this duplicity been going on?”
“For a while.” Jasmine hit the paddock fence with her gloved hand. “It was actually one of our favorite games.”
Parr nodded. “So let me return to my original question. Why are you afraid of horses?”
Jasmine took a breath and
moved further away from the horse in the yard. Parr wound the reins around the fence and moved to Jasmine’s side. She sat down on the mounting block and stared off into the frozen fields, where the racetrack was going to be built later in the year.
“When I was fourteen, we were out riding in the park. We decided to race one another, and I was dislodged from my sidesaddle and ended up on the ground. Heather was behind me, and her horse nearly trampled me. Every time I’m around a horse now, I close my eyes, and can see that horse’s hooves coming at my head. I just start trembling.”
She brought her gaze back to him. “Heather was so upset about it being her horse that so frightened me that she willingly covered for me ever since. Every time I was asked to go riding, she pretended to be me.”
Parr propped one foot on the bottom rung of the paddock fence. “Ah, aye, sidesaddles. I canna understand how any of you ladies stay atop a horse, riding that way.”
Jasmine’s eyes snapped. “That’s the way I feel! But I must get over my distrust of the saddle if I’m ever to win Alistair’s heart.”
Parr’s smile disappeared from his face. “Ah, so it’s Alistair’s heart you’d be wanting, is it now?”
Jasmine got to her feet, and began to pace in the yard. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”
Parr drew in a breath. “I can help you.”
Jasmine’s head swiveled to him. “You can help me win Alistair’s heart?”
Despite himself, Parr smiled. “No, cailín, you’ll be on your own there. But I can help you with your fear of riding. Come with me. I have something to show you.”
He led her into the warm stable, past his quarters, and into the tack room. Pausing at the doorway as he always did, he inhaled the smells of leather, polish, and hay. Jasmine’s lavender scent comingled with what was already in the tack room. Never had he enjoyed the odors so much. He moved to a small riding saddle sitting on a block and pointed out its features.
“You should try to ride using one of these racing saddles. It could be easily hidden under your riding skirt, and I think it would make you feel more secure, since you’d be able to grip the horse with your knees. Want to give it a try?”
Jasmine smiled for the first time since she heard about the planned outing. “Yes, I think I would. Will you give me lessons?”
• • •
Two days after the disastrous riding excursion, Jasmine and her lady’s maid, Colleen, drove up to the Wickersham homestead in their open carriage. They had blankets wrapped around their bodies for warmth as the carriage moved down the road. It was only late January, but the day was one of those rare warm ones and the sun was welcoming as the rays caressed Jasmine’s face. But not too much sun, Jasmine thought as she adjusted her parasol to shield herself. I don’t want to look old before my time. Before I can snatch Alistair from the clutches of Lydia Smith.
She was already behind in her goal, since she had never left the paddock on Saturday, much to her mother’s chagrin. Instead, she spent the time with Parr. He showed her the saddle he proposed for her to use and hide under her skirts. Then, he led her to the horse he had picked for her to ride when she came to visit Alistair and helped her begin to become friends with the filly. She appreciated the fact that he didn’t make fun of her overwhelming terror of being on horseback. He understood her. Hopefully, today, Parr O’Shaughnessy could continue to help her conquer her fear of horses.
“I swear, I don’t know what Alistair is thinking of, showering his attentions on the despicable Lydia Smith.” Jasmine continued the conversation she was having with Colleen about her quest for the eye of Alistair Wickersham.
Colleen grinned. “Oh, I fancy I know exactly what he’s thinking of. After all, she’s a seasoned woman and he’s been married before, so they have many things in common.”
Jasmine turned in her seat. “Are you suggesting they’re having an affair?”
Colleen flicked on the reins running along the single horse’s back. “Oh, perhaps not yet. After all, they have only just met. But any fool can see that’s the way things are headed.”
“This is not fair! Lydia Smith can entice him with the lure of sex, but I cannot. Her reputation will not be marred if she and Alistair spend time in bed with each other, but mine would be ruined beyond repair. Well, I’m younger and prettier than Mrs. Smith. I will have my way. It’s imperative that I act with haste, though, if I’m to steal him away.”
“My darlin’ child, while I’m happy that your pursuit of Mr. Wickersham is finally forcing you to face your fear of riding, are you so certain that this man is who you want?”
Jasmine stamped a foot against the bottom of the carriage. “I do not want to be one of the ‘poor unfortunates’ in April, who weren’t able to find a partner last season. If I walk into the debutante ball as an engaged woman, with a titled English nobleman by my side, I’ll certainly not be lumped into the same category as the rest of them. I’ll do anything to avoid that situation.”
“Aye, I agree that would be a hard fate. But wouldn’t you rather find love, a lasting, abiding love such as what your sisters have?”
“Love will come with Alistair, Colleen. Or it won’t. I really don’t care. I’d much rather have enough money in my husband’s accounts to never have to worry about how I’m going to dress myself. Unlike Papa’s accounts. I’m still infuriated over not getting new clothes for the season.”
“But you’re enjoying changing your old dresses into this year’s styles. I’ve never seen you so focused before.”
“Well, yes, that much is true. It’s a fun pastime. But it’s strictly a means to an end. And that end will be when Alistair Wickersham gets to one knee and proposes to me.”
With a sigh, Colleen pulled on the reins as the carriage came alongside the stable.
“Top o’ the morning to you cailíns,” Parr called out from the stable entrance.
“Why does he keep saying that? And, how does he know your name, Colleen?”
Colleen turned at the sound of a fellow countryman. “He’s not calling me by my name, he’s calling us ‘girls.’” With tears in her eyes, Colleen walked up and wrapped her arms around Parr. “’Tis so refreshing to hear a true Irish brogue again, laddie.”
Parr laughed and returned the hug. “I hail from County Kildare. How about you?”
“Ah, but I’m from the city. Dublin, it’d be. Me husband and I came to America years ago. He’s gone now, and I’ve so missed hearing him talk.”
“Am I hearing just a bit of a Scottish accent as well from you?” Parr asked.
“Aye, me dear ol’ Da hailed from Scotland, so I’m something of a mutt.”
Jasmine glanced at the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, and was surprised as a twinge of envy enveloped her. At least the two of them had a bond. Since Heather left her side last year, for the first time since they were born, Jasmine was acutely aware she had no bond with anyone anymore.
“If I can pull the two of you apart, let’s get to the lesson, shall we? After all, that’s why I’m here.”
Parr and Colleen laughed together as he moved to the side of the carriage and helped Jasmine down. “Aye, cailín, we can’t be forgetting the true purpose of your visit, now can we? Let’s get a move on.”
Jasmine couldn’t swear to it, but she thought she detected a trace of irony in the midst of the brogue.
• • •
After Parr unhitched the horse from the carriage and placed him in the paddock with some grain, he led the ladies into the stable. Colleen had brought her bag of knitting with her, and sat down on a bale of hay, propping her back up against the wall. Jasmine glanced at her as Parr continued on to the tack room, expecting her to follow.
“Aren’t you coming any further, Colleen? You’re supposed to be watching out for me.”
Colleen’s eyes crin
kled in humor as she gazed at the entrance to the tack room. “I’ve no doubts about him, unlike the other men you know. After all, he’s from Ireland. It’ll be all right. Besides, I’d rather sit by this cozy wood stove. Go on with you now, lass, and leave me to my knitting.”
Jasmine took a wary step forward. “I’ll be sure to tell Mother of your lack of concern.”
Colleen merely laughed.
Jasmine stopped at the entrance to the small room, hesitant to go further despite spending a few minutes in it the other day. Today was different, since he was going to put her up on a saddle. And probably a horse. She pretended to inhale the scent of leather and polish that emanated from the well-ordered room. Parr was not a large man, but his presence did seem to fill the space. Jasmine took in his dark locks, which fell in waves around his face. A handsome face, with ice-blue eyes that made her very uncomfortable. She straightened her shoulders and walked quickly into the room.
“So, what’s first on the agenda?”
“I want you to climb up on this saddle block and try out the small saddle I use for racing.”
Jasmine blew out a breath. “You mean you don’t want me to get on a horse today?” Her voice held a bit of a squeak. She winced, not wanting to reveal her true anxiety to him.
“No, cailín. I want you to get the feel of the saddle first. Hurry on, up you go.”
He took her hand and helped her balance as she threw her right leg over the saddle. Her skirt bunched up around her and she struggled for decorum.
“Are your feet in the stirrups?”
“I can’t even find the stirrups, with my skirt in the way.”
“Well, this will never do. Come on down off there for a moment.”
Jasmine took his hand as she jumped down and stood facing him. When his eyes met hers, she backed off a step, even though he still held her hand. Her stomach was fluttering and she told herself it was merely because of the anxiety of the lesson and the impending horse she would have to climb up on. “What now?”