Man Most Worthy

by Ruth Axtell Morren

  Nick gritted his teeth. How he’d love the chance to show Victor a thing or two. “Perhaps this is not the right time for me to go riding.”

  “Nonsense, Mr. Tennant. Victor just likes to show off. You mustn’t mind him. Now, let’s see, where were we?”

  “How to get her to move.”

  Miss Shepard smiled. “Right, just a very gentle contact with the horse’s mouth.” She explained some more and showed him how to bring the mare to a halt. Not until he had done so a few times was she satisfied.

  “Very good.”

  Before he could take any satisfaction in this small success, Miss Shepard went to her own mount, a beautiful bay mare. A groom was immediately at her side but she gave him no chance to assist her. She placed a foot in the stirrup and swung herself up in one deft move. He watched her graceful figure in a blue riding habit. She seemed perfectly at ease on her horse.

  At least he needn’t be ashamed of his own appearance. The riding habit he’d borrowed—a tweed jacket, tan-colored jodhpurs, and tall boots—fit as if made for him. Even the snobby Victor had given him a keen look.

  Miss Shepard turned her horse about. “Ready?”

  He nodded. She conveyed the message to her horse, and with a second’s hesitation, Nick gave his own horse the command. The other riders were nowhere to be seen as they clip-clopped out of the stable yard.

  Thankfully, his horse followed the other as they walked down the long, tree-lined drive that led away from the house.

  Miss Shepard turned briefly to him. “We’re going to go away from the river and head uphill. The way is easy, only a gentle rise.”

  Soon, they spotted the other riders farther up ahead. Nick was too busy concentrating on staying on his horse to attempt any further conversation as they rode down the lane. Before he knew it, they’d left the village behind and were among tree-studded meadows.

  The tension in him began to ease as he realized his mare would keep her steady, sedate pace, and he allowed himself to enjoy the countryside. For as far as he could remember, he’d lived in the city, between its stone and brick, dirty, choking heat in summer and thick, sulfurous fog in winter.

  The ride proceeded smoothly from there. Miss Shepard stayed at his side, instructing him now and again as to the proper handling of the horse.

  “She pretty much knows what to do on her own. You are just her guide, to nudge her gently now and again.”

  Victor rode back to them at a trot, and tried to engage Miss Shepard in conversation, but when she only answered his mocking comments in monosyllables, he rode off again, muttering about having slowed down the whole group.

  Soon they could see the Thames far below them, edged in lush green foliage, small wooded islands visible here and there along its snaking course.

  They continued climbing along terraced walkways. “We’ll go into the park through Sheen Gate,” she said. “I’m sure that’s the route Victor took.” A short while later they entered Richmond Park and spotted Victor and Lucy ahead. Miss Shepard quickened her horse’s pace a little, and Nick gave his own reins a slight tug to raise the horse’s head, as indicated by Miss Shepard, and tightened his knees the least bit. The horse obeyed and followed after the other one at an increased gait.

  His initial fear of falling wearing off, Nick relished the faster pace. They soon caught up to the other riders.

  Miss Shepard guided her horse abreast of Victor’s. “Let’s stop at Bishop’s Pond and rest a moment.”

  “Had enough already?” His words were directed to Miss Shepard but he swung his gaze back toward Nick.

  “No, but neither are we in any rush.” Without waiting for Victor’s answer, she slowed again until she was just ahead of Nick. She twisted in her saddle to him. “It’s a pretty spot.”

  They arrived at the willow-edged pond and dismounted. Nick had another moment of uncertainty, wondering if his horse would stand still while he got down. He held the reins in one hand and swung one leg over the back of the animal. With a breath of relief, he found himself with his two feet firmly planted on solid ground.

  Miss Shepard walked her horse toward him. “Let’s lead them to the pond. I’m sure they’re thirsty.” She petted Maud’s withers. “Aren’t you, dearie, after that long ride in the sun?”

  The others had already left their horses at the water’s edge and were walking about the shaded glen.

  Miss Shepard showed him how to remove the horse’s bit before letting them drink.

  She knelt beside the water’s edge and removed her gloves. Taking a handkerchief out of her jacket pocket, she plunged it in the water. Squeezing out the excess water, she used it to wipe her forehead and cheeks. “Ah, that feels refreshing.” She grinned up at him, her rosy cheeks damp.

  Without thinking, he pulled out his dry handkerchief and handed it to her, finding that around her he merely reacted instead of deliberating before an action. He envied her impulsive behavior, though she was young, not yet out of the schoolroom. His eyes traveled over her, her contours already those of a woman.

  “Oh, thank you.” She took the handkerchief from him and wiped her face dry before jumping back to her feet. Refolding his handkerchief, she gave it back to him. He took it without a word. Bending down to the water, he wet it and did what she had done, squeezing it out and using it to mop his own damp forehead. The water felt cold and helped to ease the heat he felt in his face, heat that was due to more than the sun.

  She took the wet handkerchief from him. “Here, we’ll spread our hankies out on this rock and they’ll be dry by the time we leave. Come, I want to show you my favorite spot.”

  “What about the others?” He gestured to Lucy and Victor. Lucy sat on a boulder, fanning herself with her hat. Victor was throwing stones into the pond, causing a plopping sound with each one.

  Miss Shepard shrugged. “He’s trying to scare the frogs.”

  He also seemed to be ignoring Miss Shepard, for which Nick was thankful.

  “Come on!” Miss Shepard urged. “We shan’t be long.”

  They walked along the pond’s edge and bent down under some willows trailing their long fronds into the water. It was about ten degrees cooler in the shade.

  “Isn’t it like a cave here?” The shadow and sunlight speckled her face, and he felt as if they could have been under the water, in another world.

  He stared at her. Words seemed to get trapped in his throat. What was happening to him that he couldn’t form a coherent sentence?

  She squatted down by the water’s edge again, this time resting her folded hands and chin on her knees. “How do you like working for my father?”

  He stood beside her, observing the shadowy light on the crown of her hair. She’d tossed her hat on the ground beside her. Her hair was twisted in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, making her look older than—

  “How old are you?” he asked sharply.

  She jutted her fine chin out a notch. “I shall be seventeen next month.”

  “Sixteen then.” His heart plummeted at the discovery of how young she truly was.

  “Almost seventeen.”

  He couldn’t help smiling at her insistence.

  “How old are you?”

  Her direct question startled him. “Twenty-three.” His lips twitched. “Last March. Eons older than you.”

  She closed one eye and tilted her head upwards. “Six years, that’s not so much. But you do seem old.”

  He drew his brows together at her appraisal. “How so?”

  “You’re so very serious.” She nodded toward the other end of the pond. “Take Victor. He’s not so much younger than you. He’s nineteen, but he seems like a boy compared to you.”

  “I’ve had to grow up a lot faster than Victor.”

  “Were you always so serious?”

  He mulled over the question. “I’ve never thought about whether or not I was serious.”

  “You can’t always have been serious.” There was a glint in her dark blue eyes.

>   “Perhaps I was born serious.”

  She laughed. “You do have a sense of humor.”

  “Alice!” Victor’s annoyed shout came through the trees.

  With a loud sigh, she stood and shook out her pleated riding skirt. “I suppose we should walk the horses.”

  “Yes.” He picked up her hat and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.” Her quick smile was grateful and friendly.

  She probably had no idea what it did to him, making all his years of rigid self-control slip away.

  She was still a child, he reminded himself as he held the feathery willow strands aside for her to walk through.

  Victor stalked toward them, his hands in his pockets, his features sulky. “Are you ready yet? There’s nothing here.”

  Lucy came up behind him. “Where shall we go?”

  “Let’s ride up to Oliver’s Mount so we can get a good vista of the river.” Without waiting for an assent, Miss Shepard headed for the horses, which stood quietly grazing on a sunny patch of grass.

  Victor hung back and gave Nick a look. “I say, old fellow, you were a sport to take that sway-backed old nag.” His lips turned upward at one corner. “You looked quite a sight on her. Your legs were practically dragging on the ground.” His voice lowered. “You know, Alice likes to put first-timers on old Maud. Sort of her secret joke, you know. But I think you’ve passed the test.” He winked. “Why don’t you turn the tables on her and try my mount? Show her what stuff you’re made of. She’s quite a horsewoman, as you’ve seen. She’d admire you to no end if she saw you on a real horse.” With a last wink, he walked away from Nick and joined Lucy, leaning down to help her mount.

  Nick considered the youth’s offer. He was tempted to accept. How much different could the other horse be? He’d seemed to behave well during their ride over.

  Shaking his head, he scolded himself for being a silly fool. He was too old to fall for some masculine gauntlet thrown down before him to impress a young girl.

  With a sigh, Nick gathered up Maud’s reins. Just as he was about to put his foot into the stirrup, Victor led his horse up. “Well, what’d you say, old boy, have a go?” His gray eyes held an unmistakable challenge.

  Ignoring the voice of reason, Nick exchanged reins with him, telling himself if he maintained a sedate pace, everything would be all right. Victor had been right about one thing, he had made a ridiculous picture on that mare, as he now observed Victor sitting atop her.

  “What are you doing?” Alice drew alongside of him on her horse.

  Victor smiled disarmingly. “Oh, nothing to turn a hair about. I just offered the fellow a decent mount.”

  Nick wondered if the boy even knew his name.

  He managed to get himself astride by himself, although this horse was considerably higher. He drew a deep breath as the horse snorted and shook his head.

  Miss Shepard’s eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. “Are you sure you’re ready to ride Duke?”

  He managed to pat the horse’s neck to show his ease, but that only caused the horse to paw the ground as if sensing Nick’s own nervousness.

  Before Miss Shepard had a chance to voice any more objections, Victor started to move away from the pond. Duke immediately began following the other horse, and Nick had no choice but to concentrate on maintaining his balance. Victor got Maud to go at a much faster clip.

  “Victor, slow down.” Miss Shepard’s admonition was in vain. Duke kept a good clip, determined to follow the lead horse. Nick tried to slow the horse, but that only seemed to make the horse more determined.

  They reached a wide open field. Victor slowed and waited for Nick’s mount to catch up to him. “How does a real horse feel beneath you?” His smile held something nasty in it.

  “Fine.” Nick sat erect, trying to remember all Miss Shepard’s directives. The horse shifted restively beneath him.

  “Well, let’s try for a little canter, shall we?” Without waiting for Nick’s response, he gave a smart swat with his riding crop to Duke’s rump.

  The horse responded to the whip with lightning speed. If he hadn’t already been gripping hard, Nick would have flown off. Instead, everything became a blur as he flattened himself against the horse and squeezed his thighs against its sides.

  He heard Miss Shepard’s alarmed shout. “Victor, what are you doing? Mr. Tennent, just keep your balance—” The rest of her words were lost in the wind.

  How in all that was holy was he supposed to stop a galloping horse?

  His lips stiff with fear, his throat paralyzed, Nick hung on. The ground flew by in a dizzying mass of green, every sound drowned out by the thundering hooves against the earth. If the horse tripped on a tussock, Nick would be done for.

  Why had he accepted the stupid challenge? To prove himself to some naïve young girl?

  He had no more time for rational thought. All he could do was pray that he’d keep his seat. He grabbed a hunk of mane with each hand, his knees the only thing keeping him atop the beast’s great heaving body.

  A hedgerow faced them. Would the horse clear it? As he braced for the jump, the horse suddenly veered to the side.

  “Drop your stirrups!” He heard Miss Shepard’s scream and just in the nick of time, he let his boots slip from the irons. A split second later, he felt his hands wrenched from the mane, his body thrust from the saddle and he was sailing through the air, headlong across the hedge.

  Chapter Three

  Alice reined in her horse and stared in horror as Mr. Tennent went flying over the hedgerow and landed with a thud against the earth.

  The next second she was off her horse, running to him. “Lucy, my horse,” she shouted over her shoulder, “Victor, go after Duke!”

  She tore through the holly bushes, unmindful of their sharp leaves and knelt by Mr. Tennent. He’d landed on his side and now with a groan rolled over onto his back, one arm clutching his ribcage.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Tennent? Where does it hurt?” She smoothed back the hair from his forehead. The far side of his face was scraped along the cheekbone.

  He began to sit up, his face contorted. She pushed him gently down again. “Lie still.”

  “It’s my shoulder and side.” His voice was laced with pain.

  She glanced up as Victor’s shadow loomed over them. He didn’t have his horse.

  “Where’s Duke?”

  “Long gone.” He kicked the ground in disgust, hardly sparing Mr. Tennent a glance. “He’ll come back as soon as he’s run off his high spirits.”

  She glared at him. “How could you give him Duke to ride?” With a shake of her head, she turned away from Victor, pressing her lips together to keep from saying more. He’d hear about his irresponsible behavior later, she promised herself. “We need to get Mr. Tennent back. He’s hurt.” She leaned over him and drew in her breath at his ashen face. “Do you think, if we helped you mount, you could ride back atop Maud? We’ll take her reins. It’s just too far for you to walk if you’ve broken something.”

  “Yes…all right.” With a grimace, he began to sit up, still clutching his arm. Quickly, she put her arm around his shoulders to help him. “Victor, get on his other side. Let’s see if you can stand, Mr. Tennent.”

  Lucy stood behind the hedge, holding two of the horses, her face frightened. “Is he all right?”

  Alice made a quick decision. “Lucy, ride back and have them summon Dr. Baird. Quickly!”

  The girl did as she was told and hurried off.

  Alice turned back to Victor. “I’ll have Mr. Tennent ride in back of me. Help him mount once I’m in the saddle.”

  “But Alice—”

  Without waiting for Victor to finish his sentence, she led her horse through a break in the hedgerow and brought him to stand near the two men. At least Victor had helped Mr. Tennent up. Alice swung up onto her horse then looked down at Victor. “All right, see if he can mount behind me.”

  Victor bent down and cradled his hands for a foothold for
the other man. With a sharp intake of breath, Mr. Tennent attempted to lift himself onto the back of her saddle. Alice twisted around to see if she could help pull him up, but he was managing to swing his leg over the horse’s rump. His stifled groans made her wince, but finally he settled on behind her.

  “Just hold on to me with your good arm.” Without asking his leave, she grasped it from behind her and brought it around her waist. “I’ll get us home as quickly as possible without jostling you more than necessary, I promise. Are you all right, sir?”

  “I’ll make it.”

  Without a word to Victor, Alice picked her way around the hedgerow and back down the path.

  Mr. Tennent said nothing more on the ride home, but she could hear his intake of breath each time his body was jarred. It’s all my fault, she thought, not knowing which was worse, taking a first-time rider on such an ambitious jaunt or not stopping Victor. Obviously he’d challenged poor Mr. Tennent to mount the gelding.

  “We’re almost there, Mr. Tennent,” she said, trying to keep her voice cheery. “See, there’s the rooftop already visible over the treetops.” At last they were going up the long drive. A couple of stable hands were waiting for them as soon as she pulled the horse to a stop in front of a house. At least Lucy had alerted them.

  “Help him down gently. He may have broken something.”

  “Yes, miss.” John, an able-bodied stable hand raised his arms to help Mr. Tennent down. “Have no worry, we’ll get you down. What happened?”

  “He took a spill and landed on his side. One arm is injured.”

  Once on the ground, Mr. Tennent remained hunched over, cradling his arm.

  Alice swung down from her horse and handed the reins to the other groom. She turned immediately to Mr. Tennent and gasped at the sight of his pale face. “John, help him inside. I hope the doctor has been summoned.”

  “Yes, miss. Miss Lucy told us to have him fetched.”

  “Good. Come, Mr. Tennent, let’s get you where you can lie down.” She walked on his other side, a hand on his elbow.

  The servants stood gawking when they entered the house, lifting up a murmur as Alice led him to the nearest sofa. A maid brought a throw and the housekeeper piled pillows behind Mr. Tennent. Although he thanked the servants and didn’t complain, she could see he was in great pain.