Henry introduced us to Amelia, who smiled and made perfect little curtsies to each of us in turn. He watched her closely, revealing with a soft glow in his eyes his pride in her manners. After being introduced to us, she sat with her hands folded in her lap and spoke only when spoken to.
After the food had been served, I turned to her. “Your papa told me he is teaching you to ride. How do you like it?”
Her eyes lit up. “I have my own pony,” she said.
“And what is his name?”
“King George, but I call him Georgie Boy.”
We all laughed. Henry’s eyes were dancing, but he’d covered his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his smile. “Did you name him after the prince regent, then?”
“Papa often says he is comical, so that’s why I named him that.”
“So your pony makes you laugh?”
“Yes, except for when he won’t do what I want. He’s improving now, though, isn’t he, Papa?” She grinned at her father, and he nodded his agreement.
“Perhaps you’re becoming more adept at handling him.”
The fact that she was missing a few front teeth made her smile not only charming but also sweetly innocent. “Papa thinks I’m coming along. Would you like to see my pony, Miss Bennet?”
“Very much. Did you ride him here?”
Her face fell. “No. It was too far. But if you will visit us at Linden Hall, you may meet him.”
Lizzy leaned forward. “I have twin girls, Amelia. They are only two years old, but already they are clamoring for a pony. They love to ride up in front of their father.”
“That’s what I do, but I’m getting too big for that.” She smiled at Elizabeth and said, “Maybe I could play with your twins. What are their names?”
Lizzy told her and said she was sure her girls would love to play another day. After a while, my sisters excused themselves to check on their children, leaving the three of us alone.
“Would you like to see me ride Papa’s horse, Miss Bennet?” said Amelia.
I glanced quickly at her father. “I think we’d better ask him about that.”
“She likes to sit in the saddle while I hold the reins and walk her about,” he explained. “It’s a lovely day. Shall we?”
“By all means,” I said. “Give me one moment to fetch my bonnet.”
“Amelia and I will ask the groom to bring Guinevere around and meet you out front.”
When I joined them outside, Mr. Walsh had already hoisted his daughter into the saddle. She sat astride the handsome bay mare with her skirts hiked up. Her skinny little legs dangled down but were not nearly long enough to reach the stirrups. We set off down the avenue.
“Any news from Longbourn?” Mr. Walsh asked.
“None. I am trying to take that as a good sign,” I said, laughing. “No crises with Fee. I do hope they are managing.”
“And Kitty will be making preparations for her wedding.”
“Having her bride clothes made, I imagine. Lydia adores anything to do with fashion, so that may be diverting for her, too.”
“Papa, stop talking to Miss Bennet. I want her to watch me!”
“I’m sorry, Amelia,” I said. “How rude of me to not pay you any attention. You look fine in the saddle. Does it not scare you a little to be up so high?”
“Well . . . if my father did not have hold of the reins, maybe I would be a little scared. Can you ride a horse, Miss Bennet?”
“No, I confess I have never learned. We didn’t have the opportunity when we were growing up. Two of my married sisters are learning now, though. Their husbands insisted.”
Henry laughed. “Of course, since they are both accomplished riders.”
“I think it would be fun to drive a curricle,” I said. “Or a phaeton.”
He looked at me in disbelief. “You do? I have a curricle. I’d be happy to teach you. There’s a certain amount of skill involved, you know.” He arched an eyebrow.
“And I can see you think it would be beyond me. I admit I don’t have the first notion of how it’s done. You would probably be sorry if you took me on as your pupil.”
“Maybe you’ll turn out to be a fearsome whip.”
“Ha! I know when I’m being laughed at.”
“Not at all,” he said, although a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “But you must first feel comfortable around horses, and I don’t think you do. Not yet.” He looked up at his daughter. “Amelia, what would you say to giving up your place to Miss Bennet? This can be her first riding lesson.”
“Riding lesson?”
Amelia’s eyes sparkled. “Yes! Help me down, Papa.”
“No!” I said. “I cannot mount that beast, and I’m too heavy for you to lift. Besides, I never said I wanted riding lessons.”
“Nonsense. I can easily lift you. And you must learn to ride before you try driving a curricle.” He said this as if it had been settled between us, that he would teach me to drive his curricle.
He swung Amelia down and motioned to me with his hand. “Sir, it’s not a sidesaddle. I can’t sit astride as Amelia did.”
“No more excuses, Miss Bennet,” he said. “This saddle will do well enough for the short time you’ll be in it.”
True, because I’ll probably tumble right off as soon as the horse takes its first step.
Before I could stop him, he put his hands at my waist and lifted me into the saddle. I perched on it as if it were a sidesaddle. Henry adjusted the stirrup, so I’d have someplace to rest one foot. “Hold on to the pommel. I’ll lead you, as I did with Amelia.”
“All right,” I said, wondering how Amelia had sat on the horse with such assurance. “Go slowly,” I said, my voice trembling.
“You’re riding, Miss Bennet!” Amelia said, clapping her hands.
“I’d hardly call it that.” But I was in fact surprised I hadn’t yet fallen off.
“Oh, Papa, your horse just did a big poop!” Amelia said.
I looked away and bit my lip.
“What have I told you about that, Amelia?” her father asked. “That is not proper language for a young lady. Nor is it a fit topic for polite company.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. John and Richard always say it whenever their horses—”
“That’s enough. Please apologize to Miss Bennet.”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I should not have spoken as I did.” She hung her pretty head.
“Thank you, Amelia,” I said with as much gravity as I could muster.
“Papa, may I walk along the stream for a while?”
“Only if you give me your solemn promise you won’t get too close to the water.”
“I promise,” she said before dashing off.
He gave me an apologetic glance. “She’s very influenced by her male cousins, who run a bit wild. I hope she didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all. She seems like such a happy child.”
He chuckled, his expression shining with pride. “Do you think so? But she must learn not to say the first thing that jumps into her head.”
“Indeed, I had to bite back a laugh more than once. Honesty is a wonderful quality of children. They always tell you exactly what they think.”
“I’m glad you resisted the urge to laugh. At times it is hard not to.”
I glanced down at him. “Would you mind if I dismounted? I don’t like talking to you from way up here.”
“Of course. Let me assist you. You’re going to have to slide partway down, and I’ll catch you.”
“Oh, no. I’m afraid I’ll knock you over.”
“Come, now.” Henry held out his arms, and I simply stared at him. In truth, I was more afraid of being caught up in those arms than of looking stupid, although I was afraid of that, too.
I let myself slip down gradually toward the ground and landed within the safety of his embrace. His hands settled at my waist. Our faces were only inches apart, and for a moment I thought he meant to kiss me. My senses heightened, and I felt his breath brushing my skin, heard my own soft sigh, felt a sweet pleasure well up inside. We were standing far closer than propriety allowed.
After a long moment he released me. “I’d better find Amelia.” Before he walked away, his soft gaze never left my face. “Stay here by Guinevere,” he said.
“Guinevere,” I repeated stupidly. He could have said, “I’m going to spear frogs,” “I must relieve myself in the bushes,” or “I spotted a new species of butterfly and must retrieve my net.” His words had barely registered. Something about Amelia. After a minute, when I began to come out of the trance I’d been in, I heard him calling her name, and her laughing voice answering.
It was clear that Henry had wanted to kiss me. I certainly had wanted him to and would not have stopped him. I knew it was for the best, then, that he had demonstrated a gentlemanly self-control. I walked to Guinevere’s fine-looking head and put my hand out for her to smell. Her head bobbed around a bit, and she huffed a few breaths. When I thought she trusted me, I reached out and stroked her and scratched behind her ears.
By the time my two companions returned, Gwen and I had made friends. Henry lifted Amelia into the saddle, and we walked in comfortable silence back to the house.
Lizzy, Jane, and I sat in a patch of shade in the garden. Having finally completed the replanting of the borders, we’d whiled away most of the afternoon playing outside with the children and had just returned them to the care of their nursemaids. For the last several minutes, my sisters had been attempting to pry out of me whatever they could in regard to Henry Walsh’s visit of the previous day. Never had I met with such relentless questioners.
“Did you like Amelia?” Jane had begun.
“Oh, yes. She’s quite delightful.”
“She seems very well behaved,” Lizzy said.
“Oh, most definitely.”
“What did you talk about? You were gone quite a long time.”
I rose and made my way over to a flower bed, plucking out some weeds the gardener had missed. “Nothing in particular.”
“Mary!” Jane said. “You’re teasing us. You must remember your conversation.”
I needn’t have bothered suppressing my smile, since my back was to them. It was fun, evading their questions. I supposed I should reveal a little, or they would badger me to death. I surely wouldn’t tell them Henry had almost kissed me, though, or that I was sorry he hadn’t. Had they allowed their husbands a kiss before they were betrothed? I didn’t think so, and I couldn’t have borne it if they disapproved of my behavior. Besides, I wanted to keep the memory just for myself. And what if it had only been a figment of my overwrought imagination?
I meandered back over, resumed my seat, and told them about his offer to teach me to ride and drive his curricle. In the middle of it, Simms interrupted to announce the arrival of Amanda and John Ashton.