Page 1 of A Single Obsession

Chapter 1

WEST MEON, HAMPSHIRE, JANUARY 1811

Eliza Merry’s eyes glowed with excitement as she put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle. Finch glowered at her, but she paid no heed.

Why should she change her mind because her groom disapproved of her joining the hunt dressed like a man? This was her last chance to escape from her skirts before the trials of the London season, and she intended to make the most of it.

Finch let out a frustrated huff as he made ready to accompany her. “There’s still time to go home, Miss Eliza.”

“Feel free,” she said, throwing him a saucy smile before urging her mount into a trot.

She soon caught up with her brother, who brought up the rear of the hunt. William gave her a welcoming grin, and they rode on side by side. The hunting party was too used to her brother’s friend Robson to question her presence. As long as she did nothing to draw attention to herself, no one would recognise her.

Eliza inhaled deeply, and a contented smile spread across her face. She refused to let Finch’s disapproval dampen her mood. He might be her most trusted servant, but that didn’t give him the right to dictate her actions.

Though it was a barren time of year, being outdoors, whatever the weather, always made her feel more alive. The air was crisp, and the last remnants of the frost glistened on the grass that wouldn’t resume growing for several more weeks. The trees were bare of leaves, but small clumps of evergreens provided bursts of colour, as did the occasional daffodil, poking its head up through the hard earth with the promise that winter would not last forever.

It was impossible not to feel cheerful, surrounded by such beauty, as she rode across the fields on the back of a splendid horse without having to worry about being reprimanded for not behaving in a ladylike manner.

After they had been riding for some time, the hunt led them through a field edged by a boundary wall, which Eliza judged to be about five feet high. Most of the hunting party were taking a long detour up the field to where a groom held open a gate.

All except two. Two men had not altered their path and were advancing toward the wall.

Eliza was too far behind to make out who they were, but even from this distance, she could tell their mounts were magnificent beasts.

She watched in admiration as the first rider chivvied his black hunter into a canter and headed straight for the wall. As he approached it, he shortened his horse’s stride and with little effort, he cleared the brick barricade with room to spare.

The second rider followed suit, taking the wall at the same place, though with less clearance.

Dare she copy them or was it too great a risk? She knew the ground was even on the far side, having ridden over this land many times before, but she was not as confident of her mount. Although the grey hunter she rode would have no problem navigating the obstacle, he was a more powerful animal than she was used to. All would be well—provided she could control him, so he didn’t rush the jump.

If she had been riding her own mare, she would not have hesitated. However, she rarely had the chance to ride Whisper astride, and never in the hunt, because her horse would give away her identity, no matter how well she was disguised.

Excitement bubbled up inside her at the thought of flying through the air, even for a moment. The idea was too tempting. She glanced around for Finch. Good. Her groom was too far away to stop her. No doubt he would give her a lecture afterward, but she had made up her mind. She was going to jump.

She was about to break into a canter before Finch guessed what she planned to do when William came racing past her. Eliza tensed. He was going too fast. Sure enough, his horse struggled to get his strides right, and her breath hitched as his mount’s rear legs clipped the top of the wall.

With a shake of her head, she muttered to herself. How could her brother be so careless as to rush the jump? He was fortunate to have made it over at all. She would show him how it should be done.

Eliza urged her horse to increase his pace and headed for the boundary. Steady now. She needed to keep him in check, so he didn’t approach the barricade too fast. Using all her strength, she controlled the animal’s excitement, and they flew over the wall with ease. They landed safely on the other side, and with a sigh of relief, she brought her mount to a standstill.

Feeling rather pleased with herself, Eliza bent low over the horse’s neck, stroking his mane and whispering words of praise. As she turned to her brother, ready to gloat about how superior her jump was to his, she realised William was not the only huntsman waiting for her.

The riders who had cleared the wall in front of them were beside him, and they were looking straight at her. The sight of them made her heart stand still, because she was no longer in any doubt who they were.

Two gentlemen she knew.

And not just any gentlemen. One was her sister Georgiana’s brother-in-law, Anthony Warren. The other was his best friend Beau—the Viscount Beaumont—the man she had been in love with for the past three years.

What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Newmarket. She had not seen him for months—not since her sister’s wedding—and this was not how she had pictured meeting him again. Dressed as a man.

Would he recognise her? Experience had taught her that people saw what they expected to see. No one expected to see the rector’s daughter masquerading as a man—and so they didn’t. However, she did not trust her disguise to hold up under scrutiny. Although she had pulled this rig many times, she had always avoided being singled out before. It had been a mistake to jump the wall and draw attention to herself.

Eliza panicked. How could she have been so foolish? What if Beau recognised her and was scandalised by her behaviour? Despite harbouring a hope that he would be amused rather than shocked, she wasn’t ready to put it to the test. Not before she’d had a chance to win his heart.

Whatever was she going to do? Ride away as fast as she could or brave it out?

Before she could choose, Beau rode forward, taking the decision out of her hands.