Chapter 15 #2
Rosie had started the journey with her horse beside his.
He had insisted on this because, while her horse was well-trained and gentle, she might need him to take the reins quickly, should anything happen.
But one of the young men, a Sir Rodney, if Rosie remembered his name right, called out to her and asked her to answer one of his questions about the local wildlife in the woods they were visiting.
“Rodney’s a skilled rider,” Jonathan had said, nodding to the other man. “If you wish to speak to him, I trust he’ll be able to take the reins, should you need it.”
So without a polite way to refuse, Rosie submitted, and Sir Rodney had moved his horse up beside hers to ask her his questions. Less than two minutes later, Marianne had somehow slipped between Rosie and the prince, and they rode that way until they reached their destination.
The only thing more frustrating than Rosie’s constant pain from the saddle and having to listen to Marianne’s giggling was that if she were to admit the truth, the slow pace and the woman’s annoying laugh weren’t the only reasons for her anger.
Every time that viper came near him, Rosie felt sick to her stomach. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t as though Rosie were in the running to be considered as a candidate for his wife. If she were smart, Rosie would stamp out this jealousy now.
But it just felt so wrong, Rosie despaired as she watched him laugh at something Marianne said. He was truly a good man. And for his parents to even be considering uniting him to such an awful woman was inconceivable. It just wasn’t fair.
He deserved better.
Unfortunately, Rosie’s backside hurt so much from riding that she soon couldn’t even focus on this.
And by the time she recognized the woods, Rosie was about to fall off her horse.
Thankfully, the familiar scene was enough to boost her spirits and her strength until she called out to the prince that it was time to stop.
“Here?” one of the young lords called out dubiously. “This is hardly a place to picnic.”
“Considering we didn’t come here to picnic, that’s well enough with me,” Rosie retorted.
“Though, if you must know, there's a picnicking spot just over that ridge.” She was about to climb off her horse when Jonathan told her to wait. “Let’s leave the horses with everyone else,” he said.
“And you need something to eat. You’ve just ridden four hours without having ridden nearly that far before. Your body needs rest.”
Rosie was about to tell him that she was in no mood to picnic, and that, as she had come for flowers, she was going to get the flowers, when her stomach grumbled loudly. Horrified, she glanced around, but judging by the prince’s small smile, only he had heard.
“Come,” he said again. “An hour’s delay isn’t going to fade the flowers.”
Rosie wasn’t sure about that. It was entirely possible that the troll–had she gotten wind of their search–might try to delay or stop them.
But she was far hungrier than she had expected to be–almost to the point of feeling faint.
So she grudgingly nodded and let him lead her horse over the ridge.
Most of the others had already begun unloading from their mounts and carriages, while several servants scurried to unpack the meal.
“Your Highness,” Marianne called, already dismounted and standing beside her horse, “I’ve saved you a spot on the blanket! Come and eat!”
“In just a moment,” he said politely. “I’m going to help Lady Rose dismount.”
Instead of going away as Rosie wished the irksome girl would do, however, Marianne only came closer, leading her horse behind her. “Oh! Do you need help dismounting, dear?”
Rosie took a deep breath and reminded herself that it was not acceptable behavior to slap other women in the face.
“I’m not as experienced in horsemanship as you are, Miss Marianne,” she said stiffly.
Everything about her suddenly felt stiff.
Her legs. Her stomach. Her back. Then true panic struck as she realized suddenly that if she let go of the horse and let herself slide off the saddle, her legs weren’t going to catch her before she hit the ground. She could hardly feel them at all.
Jonathan, however, seeming to understand, placed his large hands lightly around her waist. Rosie sucked in a fast breath, as she hadn’t been expecting his sudden touch. His hands were warm and strong against her aching sides.
“Fall forward,” he said gently. “I’ll catch you.”
Perhaps it was the stabbing pain that throbbed through the entire lower half of her body. Or perhaps it was the soft way he spoke the words. But something about this gentle speech made Rosie’s eyes sting as large tears tried to well up in them.
“I won’t be able to stand,” she whispered.
“I’m a fool!” he said with a sudden frown. “I should have known better than to let you ride this entire way. Here, put your hands on my shoulders. Yes, just like that. Now, like I told you, lean toward me. I won’t let you fall.”
Rosie did as he instructed. And just as she had expected, her knees gave out as soon as her feet hit the ground. But just as he had promised, he held her up, keeping her from falling flat on her face in front of Marianne and all the other curious onlookers.
“Here,” he said. “We’ll do it this way.” Without pausing, he bent and put one hand behind her knees. Then he swung her up into his arms and began to carry her to where the picnic blankets had been laid out.
Marianne, who walked beside them, glared daggers at Rosie. But Rosie couldn’t help the little smile that crept onto her lips.
She might not be the queen’s favorite. But right now–for a brief moment–she was in Jonathan’s arms. And she doubted that even scheming Marianne could say the prince had held her like this before.
He put her down gently on the emptiest picnic blanket, saying he hoped she had enough space to stretch. “You won’t want to sit too still for too long,” he warned her, his brows drawn slightly as he looked at her legs. “I know it hurts, but it will hurt even more if you let your limbs stiffen up.”
“Oh, I don’t plan to,” she said somewhat breathlessly. “As soon as I’ve eaten, I’m going to go find the flowers.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said. But even as he spoke, Marianne was already playfully tugging at his hand, urging him to join her where she’d saved him a spot. Rosie sighed when he gave in, and Marianne beamed. Rosie might have won a battle, but Marianne was winning the war.
One of the servants, she guessed at the prince’s direction, brought her a plate of food. She sat quietly and ate, trying to ignore the pain that now seemed to touch every muscle in her body, and focused instead on the familiar world around her.
A pain deeper than that in her limbs settled into her heart as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the air that smelled of pine and sage and water from the stream that ran nearby.
Oh, how she had missed this place. A few more hills down, and they would have reached her cottage.
Yes, her cousin lived there now, but in her heart, it would always be her home.
In fact, it was probably good that they had stopped when they did.
If she had seen the dear little cottage with the windows that her father had set and the chimney smoking with cheerful puffs of smoke, she might not have been able to leave.
The food tasted better here, too. But then again, the outdoors had a way of making everything taste better. She and Snow had enjoyed countless picnics of their own in this very spot. Every sensation was heightened, from taste to color to scent to sound.
What would it feel like to kiss Jonathan beneath the trees?
Rosie startled at the inappropriate thought as it flashed through her mind. No, that was certainly not a thought trail her mind would be pursuing.
To keep herself from wondering more, as well as to keep herself from looking longingly like a little lost lamb at Jonathan, where he was sitting now, laughing at whatever Marianne had just said, Rosie forced herself to her feet.
She ground her teeth at the pain, but knew it would be best if she went now before she had any more time to think.
Remembering the prince’s promise to come with her, she paused at the edge of the loud, happy scene.
No one had joined her on her blanket, so no one noticed when she stood and left.
Then she made her way slowly to the edge of the clearing, where she tried to catch his eyes several times.
Not once, though, did Jonathan look in her direction.
Well, Rosie huffed to herself, she wasn’t about to scream his name to get his attention above the noisy din of the other young people. So, after another moment of waiting, she took her gathering basket, removed her shoes, and made her way toward the woods.
In spite of the pain that made her limp badly, Rosie felt her entire body relax as soon as she stepped out of the clearing and into the woods.
The noise of the picnic quickly grew muted, and she closed her eyes and drank in the clean, sweet air, allowing the forest to envelop her in its kiss.
She relished how her bare feet felt against the cool, moist forest floor, and she pretended for a moment that nothing had ever changed.
Her mother was just a few hills over, picking sweet peas in the garden.
Snow was somewhere nearby, probably looking for honeysuckle. And Rosie–
“You shouldn’t have come here alone. I told you I’d come with you.”
The spell was broken, and Rosie sighed as she turned to face the prince.
“I grew up in these woods, you know,” she said with a wry smile.
“I could walk this place blindfolded and know every rock and tree by name.” To prove her point, she nodded at a cluster of oaks not far from where she stood.
“Beyond those trees is a stream full of trout. And if you like acorn soup, the tree on the right produces exceptionally savory acorns.”