Then he rose, and headed for the cave once more to do his duty, always his duty…
Chapter Fourteen
The next day dawned bright and clear. Elizabeth got out of bed feeling much more optimistic than she had done the night before. She would love to know who the man in the cavern had been, but that was not all there was to her life. It was most distracting.
At the same time, she couldn't allow it to ruin her peace of mind. She missed all of the Rakehells and Brimley. But with the Fitzgeralds and their friends, and the other neighbors at Ardmore, she had all the makings of a new set of very close companions.
Elizabeth groaned as she recalled she had been so busy the day before she had neglected to invite the vicar and verger and his sister to tea.
She dashed off a couple of notes to them and was just finishing her cup of coffee in the breakfast room when Will came striding in.
Really, it was almost as though black were made for him, she thought to herself as she gazed up at his handsome visage, his strikingly athletic figure.
He drew himself up short when he saw she was all alone. "They told me to pop my head in to see if you were ready."
"Yes, indeed," she said, putting down the cup.
"Please don't let me hurry you."
"Not at all. I have had sufficient."
When she got outside, Vevina was there with her husband and Parks, and she noted that Vevina did not use a sidesaddle either. Well, that was a relief.
Will helped her with a leg up, trying to make the contact as impersonal as possible, but appreciating the warmth of her lithe form so much he was glad of the cold bath he had subjected himself to that morning in an effort to get the grime of the cave off him, and all the torrid associations with it which filled him with the most agonizing desire.
She felt so perfect in his arms, under his hands, it was all he could do not to press her to him for a kiss.
Elizabeth got up into the saddle without incident, and looked down to thank Will. Once again she saw that elusive spark in his eyes, and felt a slight flush to her cheeks, a tremble to her hand as she gathered the reins.
Then he was swinging his long leg over his saddle, and she gazed after him almost with longing as he took the lead up the tree-lined avenue toward the beach.
Once there, they galloped along the sandy strand for a time. Elizabeth was glad she was wearing a sunbonnet instead of her usual dapper little riding hat, for the sun was beating down as if it were the height of summer. Even Parks' pale complexion took on a golden tinge.
"I must say I hardly recognized you out of uniform, " she remarked as the five of them rode side by side.
"I feel positively indecent. But you know what sand is like. It gets all over, in every nook and cranny."
She blushed and thought she saw Will looking at her, but he simply remarked, "Not to mention the damage the salt water could do to your regimentals."
She flushed again. Was this a reference to the other day?
"Thank you for the loan, old man. I can't recall the last time I owned any regular clothes."
"What's mine is yours." He looked at his friend again more closely. "You'll have to borrow something for the ball as well. All your usual gold braid might be a bit of a giveaway."
"True. Thank you for reminding me to ransack your wardrobe when we get back to Joyce Hall."
"Honestly, you two, anyone would think you were some society belles. Balls and clothes indeed," Vevina teased. "Come. Let's gallop."
They had a race which Will won easily, moving so at one with his horse he might have been a centaur, Elizabeth thought with a long, appraising look.
"Would you like to walk for a time, Lady Elizabeth?" he asked when he saw her staring pointedly at him.
"Yes, that would be pleasant," she said with a smile.
He helped her down out of the saddle, but if she had hoped for a long, lingering pressing against his manly chest, she was disappointed. He got her down in a workmanlike fashion and took the reins of both horses, while Parks took her other arm.
She looked over again at Will, wondering why he was always so formal and reticent. Perhaps he was already spoken for? An understanding with another lady?
Elizabeth wondered why the notion bothered her so. She decided she was being silly. Did she not have enough men fighting to impress her, without her wanting to make a conquest of the sombre Will Joyce? She recalled how flighty Jonathan's wife Pamela had been prior to her marriage, and how it had almost cost her his friendship and love.
No, Sir Wilfred Joyce was a thoroughly solid and respectable man of sound opinions and most upright and decent character. To try to flirt with him for the sake of getting some sort of emotional response from him other than cordiality would be just too bad of her.