Page 68 of A Single Obsession
She slipped out of her bed and pattered over to the window where the sunlight already streamed in through the open shutters. As she peered through the glass, she caught sight of Beau striding up the path toward the house from the direction of the stables.
To judge by the way he was thrashing the air with the whip in his hand, he was in a foul temper. It appeared he had gone to meet her for a ride and had given up waiting.
Beau’s irritation transformed her own mood in a flash. He had got what he deserved. Disappointment. She gave herself a little shake, blinked back her tears and blew her nose. When had she become a watering pot? Staying indoors made her melancholy. She needed to get out into the fresh air.
Eliza hurried out of the house to the stables, making sure to avoid Beau. She had just enough time for a quick ride without being late for breakfast. She hoped Finch would not have put Whisper back in her stall already, thinking she was not coming.
Her groom had his hand on Whisper’s bridle as Eliza walked into the yard.
He raised his eyebrows, not voicing the question that was clearly on his mind.
“Yes, I know it’s not my usual time. Be quick and help me into the saddle or I’ll be late back.”
“You’ve missed his lordship,” he said as he helped her mount.
“How very unfortunate.”
“He waited a full half-hour. Seemed mighty eager to see you.”
Eliza urged her horse forward. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Finch was taken aback at her ill-tempered response, but she ignored it, and as soon as she was clear of the stables, she increased her speed, cantering away from him, down the hill toward the lake.
Finch trailed behind her at a respectable distance, but when she paused at the bridge, he drew alongside her.
“What maggot’s got into your head today, Miss Eliza?”
She pursed her lips. Finch had sat her on her first pony, and she was wont to give him more licence than others, but she was not inclined to take correction from him or anyone else this morning. She had just enough restraint not to utter the cutting reply that hovered on the tip of her tongue.
Finch took her silence as permission to continue. “I don’t know what his lordship has done to upset you, but don’t be too harsh on him—he’s in mourning.”
Eliza’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean in mourning? I don’t understand.”
“Romeo was stolen last night.”
She gasped.
“Someone broke into the stables and attacked Quincey and his lordship’s man. By the time Lord Beaumont arrived, his racehorse was gone.”
That explained his bad mood. It wasn’t about her at all. It was about Romeo.
Guilt pricked at her as she realised she’d been too harsh on Beau for deserting her last night. He must have guessed the noise they’d heard had meant trouble at the stables. He’d been right to race away from her, but he’d been too late to stop the thieves.
Poor Beau. She knew how much he cared for that colt.
Brushing aside the painful acknowledgement that his horses would always come first, Eliza let the ready well of sympathy rise to the surface.
Beau was hurting, and she needed to go to him. To comfort him in his loss.
Beau paced up and down outside the breakfast room, clenching and unclenching his fists, waiting for Eliza, but she didn’t come. He’d raced to the stables that morning, longing to see her, but she hadn’t turned up for her ride either.
Had she overslept or was she avoiding him?
His first thought on waking had been of Eliza, not of his stolen racehorse. He’d passed the remaining hours of the night dreaming of her woebegone face. What did she think of him, kissing her like that and then leaving her so abruptly?
But he would make things right. With Romeo’s disappearance, he could no longer delay what his heart now desired. He was going to ask her to marry him.
With a sigh, he gave up waiting and went into breakfast without her. Everyone was still standing, talking about Romeo. His stepfather was most put out that anyone should break into his stables, and he could not seem to stop speaking about it.
