Chapter Two #2
“‘Even a…’” Mr. Reid stopped short and took a breath.
“You don’t think very much of the very woman whose station you consider above mine.
As far as that is concerned, it has been many years since my father’s modest start as a tenant farmer.
We have worked hard and invested carefully.
Now we own a sizeable property with a four-bedroomed brick house.
I believe the term you are looking for, sir, is a gentleman farmer.
As such, I believe there is no shame in my conversing in a civilized manner with ladies of good breeding.
Ill-bred gentlemen, however, are another matter altogether. ”
The two men glared at each other.
“I’m warning you, Reid, keep your distance.”
“Or what?”
Mr. Prescott leaned forward and put a fist onto the trestle table. “Or there will be consequences.”
Martin Reid took a deep breath, his smile returning. “Well, you should have said so in the first place. I love me a good dose of consequences, I do. Perhaps your father could chat with you about the sorts of consequences that befall those who threaten us townsfolk. We have long memories…”
Mr. Prescott held his pose for a few seconds more, then slowly straightened. “Come, Juliana. Miss Richards. My aunt would not approve of your loitering here.”
Cassie wanted to protest. What could Lady Webb possibly have against a friendly conversation with the local hero?
For a hero he certainly was. Even more so now that he had stood up to Juliana’s repugnant cousin.
But Cassie wisely said nothing, only silently mouthing the word “sorry” to Mr. Reid before she followed Mr. Prescott to a different stall some distance away.
Mr. Prescott might as well have dragged her off by her hair for all the joy she felt during the remainder of her outing.
He watched her like a hawk, a particularly apt image, considering the steely eye and fierce mouth of her so-called protector.
Once, when she had cast a glance back at Mr. Reid, Mr. Prescott had stepped forward, blocking her view, forcing her sights upon him instead.
The disapproval sat shallow upon his tight lips.
But his eyes burned for her.
Cassie clutched her hand to her chest, feeling exposed. The Prescott men never bothered to hide their naked desires. Now, if Mr. Reid had looked upon her with such feeling…
The thought caught her by surprise. She had spent so much time fending off the Wesley Prescotts of the world—men who thought a pretty lady’s companion an easy mark for a bit of fun—that she had never considered how a good man’s attention might affect her. And Mr. Reid was a good man.
There was something intensely attractive about his fine character.
Cassie could imagine herself easing her head against his strong chest, all cares slipping away.
His muscular arms, unafraid of a good day’s work, would encircle her.
Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of that safe space, his gentle mouth settling a kiss in her hair.
Something shifted in the air. Cassie returned to the present moment, Mr. Prescott’s eyes still upon her.
He was smiling.
He never smiled. His features should now have been lit from within as his mouth widened. But his raw hunger lingered, making his smile even more disturbing than the absence of it. What had possessed him?
Realization hit Cassie like a brick to the chest. She had been thinking of Mr. Reid. Happy thoughts. Sentimental ones. What had her face revealed? Whatever it was, Mr. Prescott had assumed he was the cause of such fondness. No, no, no!!
“May I offer you my arm, Miss Richards?” He almost purred.
The thought of his touch repulsed her. She fought to keep a calm exterior.
“That is very kind of you, but I can manage well enough on my own.”
Perhaps it was her fear of the man who stood before her that made her mind reach for Mr. Reid. Without thinking, Cassie flashed a quick glance toward the table where he stood.
It was enough to break the spell. Mr. Prescott didn’t even turn. He understood at once. The singular smile dropped from his face.
“I see you are tired, Miss Richards. If you will have my arm, I think it best we return to the house.”
“I am not tired at all, sir.”
“My aunt has made me responsible for your well-being,” he said stiffly. “In my judgment, you have had enough exertion, and we must still ride back.”
“What nonsense you speak, Wesley!” Juliana cried. “A young woman must have fresh air and a means with which to entertain herself if she is to avoid melancholy. Look how rosy her cheeks are. She is in excellent health and clearly enjoying herself.”
“To the contrary, Cousin,” he replied, his eyes still firmly upon Cassie. “I think the red hue upon her skin indicates a touch of fever. Possibly the result of her exposure to the recent storm. It would be remiss of me to allow her further strain when she should be resting at home.”
Juliana looked more closely at her friend. “You know, your eyes do look rather bright, Cassie. Perhaps Wesley is not mistaken, after all.”
Cassandra wanted to scream. Why must every aspect of her life be regulated by others? Especially by the likes of Mr. Prescott. But she knew when she had been beaten. The one person she could not argue against was Lady Webb. And Mr. Prescott had her ear.
“Very well,” she said, hoping she sounded sufficiently submissive for Mr. Prescott to let his guard down. “Let us fetch the horses.”
She fell in step with Mr. Prescott, careful not to touch him yet giving the impression she was following his lead. However, as soon as Willow’s reins were in her hand, she moved hastily toward the table where Mr. Reid stood and Duke munched lazily on a mouthful of hay.
By the time her companions had noticed where she’d headed, Cassie—or, more accurately, Willow—had Duke’s undivided attention.
His head lifted in a powerful motion, his heavy hooves shifting him forward steadily.
He nickered as he reached Willow. She returned his greeting, her long, equine jaw sliding past his, her upper lip curling back as she began at once to groom the base of his mane.
He bobbed his head as if agreeing, then followed suit.
“They truly are a pair,” Cassie said to Mr. Reid. “It seems a pity to keep them apart.”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “It is unfortunate when there is such easy connection, and yet circumstances do not allow it to bloom naturally.”
Cassie lifted her gaze to meet his. Was he still talking about the horses? He did not strike her as a man who played with words. His face was open, his intentions plain. Not the horses, then. Could she risk a candid response? Should she?
“Horses have less say over their lives than we humans,” she said.
“Then again, not all of us are equally free to do as we wish.” Oh, her heart cried within, and I do wish it!
I wish to keep company with such a fine figure of a man, one who would stand up for me.
A man who would not wish to possess me, or use me, or control me.
“Perhaps…” Mr. Reid began, only to lower his lashes, as if the thought were too bold.
“Yes?”
“Perhaps freedom might yet be claimed.”
Cassie struggled to find the right words in answer. “I… That is to say, some people… have much to lose if they take that risk and find the… er, connection… is not there after all.”
Mr. Reid opened his mouth to respond, but Cassie’s two companions had caught up with her. And Mr. Prescott was not happy.
“What are you doing back here?” he demanded of her. “I thought you understood my displeasure at this man’s company.”
“Well, you don’t have to keep him company, then,” Cassie blurted out, her ease and comfort with Mr. Reid lowering her guard. At once, she wanted to clap her hand across her mouth. Was she quite mad? She could not talk to the Prescotts in that manner!
“I… I… only brought Willow to greet Duke,” she fumbled. “I had promised. They are old friends, you see. I had to keep my word. You do understand, don’t you? It would be poor form to break a promise.”
Her cowed shoulders and nervous chewing of her lip must have made her appear sufficiently contrite, for Mr. Prescott made no mention of her shocking first response.
“Of course,” he said, his stiff manner relaxing somewhat. “You are a lady of excellent character, Miss Richards. I have always thought so. Now, since you have completed the task you set yourself, allow me to lift you to your seat upon Willow so that we may be on our way.”
Without waiting for an answer, he wrapped his long fingers about her waist, squeezing to get a proper grip before hoisting Cassie up into Willow’s saddle.
His hands lingered.
“Thank you, sir.” Cassie breathed out the shock of his presumption. “I am quite settled now. You may release me.”
He did so, though the slowness to respond suggested it was done grudgingly.
A moment later, he yelped, his back arching forward, his fingers splaying as his elbows locked. He turned his head abruptly, one hand reaching down to his rump, which he now rubbed vigorously.
“Your horse just bit me!” he shouted indignantly.
Duke looked quite ready to repeat the action.
Mr. Reid reached around the table and grabbed Duke’s reins, pulling him out of reach of Mr. Prescott’s bruised buttocks.
“There’s no accounting for an animal’s taste,” he said under his breath.
A smile played about his lips, but he turned away quickly before Mr. Prescott noticed.
Both ladies took an immediate interest in their gloves and skirts, tidying them earnestly, as if nothing else could be as important at this very minute.
“Wesley, will you help me up, please?” called Juliana when she’d noticed her cousin’s face darken with rage.
For a moment, Cassandra thought he would ignore Juliana, maybe even take a whip to Duke for the insult he had been made to suffer.
“I feel a little faint,” Cassie said with some affectation. “I’m afraid you were right, Mr. Prescott. I think I need to go home and rest a little. I should have listened to you.”
Well! Never before had the man heard those words from Cassandra’s lips! His fury melted clean away and his chest swelled. “I shall escort you home at once. Perhaps you will allow me to hold your reins and lead you so that you can save your strength.”
“That is most kind.” Cassie fought the urge to look at Mr. Reid.
If Mr. Prescott caught her doing so, her tiny manipulation would be undone.
More than anything, she wanted her watcher to be lulled into complacency.
He must not suspect the feelings that were taking root in her heart.
And he certainly must not report such suspicions to his aunt.
Once all three of them were on their mounts, Mr. Prescott took hold of Willow’s reins and clicked his tongue to set the horses going.
From the corner of her eye, Cassie caught Duke shaking his huge head, his mane flying loose. He neighed plaintively, but Willow was led away, and she did not resist.
Cassie knew exactly how she felt.
She reached her hand and head down to Willow’s neck, offering soothing words. Within that shallow concealment, she turned her face toward Martin Reid. Cassie lifted her fingers and wiggled them in a surreptitious wave.
Mr. Reid lifted his cap. A small smile played about his mouth. But it contained a hint of sadness.
And Cassie hoped with all her might that he was disappointed to see her go.