Chapter 2 – Worthy in Every Way

Hi, everyone! If you’ve been on social media this weekend, you know that I’ve released Worthy in Every Way. I will be continuing the preview until Thursday when the release celebration will be held here. I had thought I would be home from a conference I have next week by Thursday, but as it turns out, I won’t. Surprise! You get the entire story earlier than planned.

If you are continuing with the preview, click the links for the Prologue and Chapter 1. If you want to read the book on Kindle, KU, or paperback, click here.

If you’ve read Worthy in Every Way and enjoyed the story, please think about leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Every review is greatly appreciated!

Chapter 2

18^th April 1815

Only a few clouds obscured the brilliant blue of the sky as Georgiana lifted her face to welcome the warmth of the sun on her cheeks. The morning air was crisp, and a few of the spring flowers had delayed blooming due to the lateness of the season. Despite their reluctance to wake from their winter’s sleep, the verdant green of the new leaves on the trees and the grass did much to lift the gloom one often experienced with an overlong winter. Yet how much could such a simple change lift such doldrums?

When she reached the entrance to the stable, the stablemaster greeted her without delay. “Good morning, miss. Forgive me for not having a horse ready for you. I sent an enquiry to His Grace as to which mount you should ride. No one has responded as yet.”

She opened her mouth to speak when the man snapped straight. “My lord, I have your mount ready and waiting, but before you go, would you know what horse might be appropriate for the young miss to ride? I sent word to the duke, but I have not yet heard back from him.”

Georgiana glanced over her shoulder due to the stablemaster’s immediate change in demeanour, then frowned at how Lord Bath, who had approached while her back was turned, had been addressed. The stablemaster had not signed for the earl but had spoken while a servant with Lord Bath translated what was said. She bristled.

“With a new baby, the duke can hardly be expected to attend to such matters at this early hour,” said Georgiana. “If you had but asked me, I could have informed you of my skill, and you could have selected a mount yourself.” She spoke with her hands as well so Lord Bath could follow the conversation.

“Give her Persephone,” said Lord Bath through his servant.

The stablemaster frowned. “But sir, Persephone requires—”

Lord Bath held up a hand, palm out. “Miss Darcy’s brother has spoken of her skill on a horse, so I have no doubt Miss Darcy can manage the mare’s spirit. Do as you are told.”

As soon as the man scurried off, Lord Bath waved off the servant with him and stepped forward. “The stablemaster is excellent with caring for horses but seeks our instruction for most matters. He is also not accustomed to ladies riding. Henry has brought Emme to learn, and the stablemaster has been difficult. If matters continue, the man will be finding a new position.”

Following the movements of his hands allowed her a reprieve from the intensity of his gaze. At times, she could not maintain the connexion and was forced to glance away. “I would have thought him to have asked before now, which is why I spoke as I did. I am certain censuring him is difficult when what you say must be related by someone else.”

“My valet is competent and has known me for ten years, yet he is new to managing matters such as this, so your aid was welcome; I assure you.”

Her body relaxed when another horse was brought out, and she approached the animal to inspect it, as well as the bridle and saddle. A growl rumbled in her throat. The girth was loose! She pressed her knee into the mare’s side while she adjusted it, withholding the chastising she would have preferred to unleash. The horse had obviously sucked in a sizeable breath before the heavy leather strap was tightened. Someone had not taken the time to ensure the saddle was secure before presenting the mount to her. This was not acceptable—not acceptable at all. Since she had stepped in front of the inadequate stablemaster, she had no way of knowing whether he had intended to confirm the horse had been prepared correctly. What if she had not inspected the girth before departing the stable?

“Miss?”

Her back stiffened at the stablemaster’s tone. “She had held her breath when you saddled her, so the girth was dangling,” she said as she whirled around. “I have no desire to ride under her belly, which is where I would be if I had not made the adjustment. The duke will hear of this. I assure you.”

Where her forwardness came from was a mystery. The stablemaster’s incompetence had riled her, and her focus upon the horse allowed her to avoid the scrutiny of Lord Bath’s vivid eyes. Even now, her neck prickled. He was staring at her. She was certain of it.

Without further comment, she took the horse’s reins and led her towards the mounting block. She set her gaze in front of her, but the curve of the earl’s lips could be discerned from the corner of her eye. What amused him so?

She stopped and made to mount, but at a hand to her arm, she paused.

“Allow me to help.” Lord Bath laced his gloved fingers together and gave her a lift. For a mare, Persephone was tall—likely over sixteen hands. Georgiana could have gained her seat without a block, but the assistance was always welcome. “The morning is a fine one for a ride. Persephone should be in high spirits with the cool weather so take care.”

“I should wish you the same. Good day, Lord Bath.”

After he gave a dip of his chin, he stepped back, and she took up the reins and walked her horse around the stable yard twice to ensure she had the feel of her before Georgiana cued the horse to a smooth trot and rode in the direction of the lake.

Today, she had no wish to ride across the fields or on the roads. Solitude was her objective, and while she could find a quiet spot to be alone in the house, a servant could always happen upon her, or Jane, for that matter. If she indulged in a bit of maudlin behaviour, she wanted no one to be the wiser.

The horse manoeuvred through the trees and up the hill to the folly where she could see the valley below; the lake and its environs shown to perfection. At her slight tug on the reins, her mount paused. The prospect from this point was one she would never tire of! A refreshing breeze rustled the leaves on the trees, the birds sang and could be spotted flitting from perch to perch, and the lake below glistened under a golden sun. Yes, she could be satisfied with such a view. She could also understand why Jane enjoyed this estate rather than living in town for the Season. The duke’s daughters surely took great pleasure in the freedom the property afforded as well as the picturesque environs more than Albemarle House as well.

After an hour of meandering around—hardly her usual ride—she stopped at a small stream that fed into the lake. She dismounted but held the reins in her hand as she stepped to the edge of the water. That was when the burning of her eyes gave way to tears that forged warm paths down her cheeks and dripped to the front of her riding habit.

She choked down a sob. She was not always so unhappy, but at times, she had the need to hide away from the world—to seclude herself and let the discontent flow from her heart, which hurt if she were to tell the truth. Perhaps if she had not been taken in by Wickham all those years ago, she would be different—she would be more open to a Season in London, to allowing callers and finding a gentleman to wed. The notion was unfathomable. Yet, how could one be surrounded by people and still be so utterly alone? Yes, she had family and amongst them friendships like that of Jane, Lizzy, and Amelia, but no one to hold her close, as a lover would. The most protected parts of her heart possessed this great chasm that yearned to be filled, but how was she to find that person who would fill it? How was she to shed the reserve she had taken comfort in since she was a child to fulfil the woman she had become?

Her disappointments had to be cried away from time to time. If she held fast all she felt inside her, she would become intemperate, and she could not be intemperate. She also did not want Lizzy or Fitzwilliam to fret, and they would if they were aware of the reasons behind her solitary rides. After all, she could not be maudlin with a footman ten yards behind her. To her relief, the stablemaster at Pemberley never divulged that she often returned with red-rimmed eyes.

The crack of a stick made her sniff and turn at once to where a horse stood about ten feet away, Lord Bath atop its saddle. What was he doing here? Had he followed her? She turned back to the stream. He could not see her like this.

The wind whipped against his face as Charles galloped his mount through the fields. He could no longer hear the breeze as it rushed past his ears. Something in his chest cracked open as it did whenever that realisation came to him. Yet even though he longed for that familiar sound, the activity still calmed him in a way no other could. The peace that washed over him was welcome indeed!

When he returned to the stable, the stablemaster approached as Charles dismounted. The man’s mouth moved, but of course, Charles was met with silence. When the man began making strange gestures, he levelled a fierce glare upon him. What the devil! No one at Hemel believed him to have gone stupid, except maybe this dolt!

The man continued, however, and Charles could have groaned as the stablemaster clasped his hands under his chin and batted his eyelashes. Was he referring to Miss Darcy? If she were to bear witness to this shameful display, she would be insulted, to say the least. He could not blame her for it either!

Finally, the man grasped him by the sleeve as a groom took his stallion. Charles wrenched his arm away but still followed until they reached Persephone’s empty stall. He withdrew and opened his pocket watch. She had been gone an hour and a half? Not enough to incite worry, but the stablemaster surely thought her lying in a ditch somewhere if Charles assumed correctly.

He caught up to the groom who had just removed the saddle, gestured towards a steady gelding in a nearby stall, and helped the boy prepare the mount. When he took the horse from the stable, he climbed atop, then made his way in the direction Miss Darcy had ridden when she first departed. He had no reason to believe anything had befallen the lady, yet if she did not return, he would, no doubt, bear some responsibility, at least in his own mind.

The tracks of her horse vanished into the woods, so he wandered around the lake until a hoofprint in some mud near the stream caught his eye. He took a deer path through the trees until he reached a small clearing along the water’s edge. There Miss Darcy stood. He paused. Had she taken a fall? Her horse’s reins rested upon the ground, the animal grazing on some soft grass growing where a shaft of light had escaped the shade of the trees to fall upon the earth.

Miss Darcy was at least standing. She could not be too injured. He was hopeful she was not, anyway.

On his mount’s next step, her head jolted around. Somehow, it seemed that he had startled her, though that was not the greatest concern. Instead, he balked at the state of her swollen eyes, reddened nose, and damp cheeks. She had been crying.

He dismounted without delay and hastened to stand before her. Reaching out, he tilted her face up then ran his hands along her shoulders and down her arms until she shoved them away. Where was the injury?

“What are you doing?” she signed. She made to shove him back once again.

“You have fallen from your horse, have you not? Where is the pain?”

“No, I dismounted and let my horse wander because I simply felt like crying. In the meantime, I wish to be alone, so pray, go. When I am more presentable, I shall return, but I am not ready as yet.”

He took out his handkerchief and held it out for her.

Her shoulders dropped with her chest in a way that told him she had exhaled heavily. “Thank you, but—”

“Yours appears soaked through.” The bedraggled bit of linen was limp in her fingers when she signed. When she did not take his cloth, he stepped closer and dabbed it to her cheek until she took it from him and continued herself.

“If you wish to return to the house and your bedchamber without someone seeing you, I can be of aid.” He ensured she was looking at him before he signed. Even red-faced as she was, she was lovely. Her vivid blue eyes held a quality that tore at his soul. Why did he long to mend whatever was making her so sad?

Her head lifted a little, the graceful arch of her neck drawing his eye. “You could do that?”

“’Tis not so difficult. I prefer to go unnoticed most of the time, so I have become accustomed to making my way through the house without detection.”

She stared at the water for a few minutes before returning her gaze to his. “Yes, I would like that. Ambrose, my maid, can help put me to rights before Jane or the girls see me.”

He helped her mount, then climbed atop his own horse before turning back in the direction of the house. When they were not far from the stable, he dismounted at the edge of the trees and stepped over to Persephone.

Miss Darcy was capable of getting down on her own, but his palms itched to touch her—a nonsensical response to her presence, yet one he had all the same. Without understanding why he needed to do so, he wrapped his hands around her waist and cushioned her return to the ground. Her eyes held his and lingered as did his hands, which fought not to pull her against him.

After a moment, she turned her head as he wrenched himself away. It was difficult to tell with her having cried, but were her cheeks pinker? A bit of the redness had faded but not enough to know for sure if she had blushed.

She stood among the trees at the back of the stable while he took the horses inside. The stablemaster and groom appeared confused when he returned a horse without its rider, but he told them naught. Instead, he walked back to Miss Darcy without any explanation.

“When we return to the house, do not look back. The stablemaster and groom will surely look for you since I could not very well tell them where you were.” Her whereabouts was not their concern anyhow—he possessed the knowledge she was well, and that was all that mattered.

Georgiana took his proffered arm, and they made their way towards the great house, but rather than lead her around to the front, he took her to a servants’ entrance. He pressed lightly upon the door, so it opened just enough to peek through. No one was about at the moment. In all likelihood, the servants were at breakfast, so this was an opportune time to sneak her inside.

His hand grasped hers, and he tugged her into the passage. He then peered around each corner before continuing until they reached the stairs. When they had made their way to the first floor, he stopped and turned near a window.

“Which room is yours? Tell me as though you were using the usual method?”

“Second passage from the stairs on the left. I have the last room on the right.”

A minute was required for him to work out how to reach that suite from this location, but soon, he pulled her into a guest bedchamber, then across to another before entering the servants’ passage on the other side of the house. From there, her rooms were two doors down on the right.

“You look inside. Make sure it is the correct bedchamber.”

She cracked the door a little at a time until she could peer inside. “This is it,” she signed. “Thank you.”

After a quick dip of a bow, he retreated to his own rooms. Jennings looked at him askance when he entered through the servants’ door, but he should have become accustomed to Charles using the back stairs by now. He had been coming and going through those passages more and more since his hearing had disappeared for good.

He removed his gloves and stretched his fingers. Despite having had her redingote and his gloves between them, his palm had this odd sensation like he still touched Miss Darcy—as though he were still lifting her from her mount. He had never experienced the like. His eyesight seemed improved since the loss of his hearing, as did his sense of smell. His physician said this oft times occurred when someone lost a sense—that the other senses seemed to take over. Was this another method of his body coping without hearing or did another reason exist? He shook his hand as his valet began to help him remove his topcoat. He would think on it no longer. What were the odds he would touch Miss Darcy again? After all, his sense of touch becoming more sensitive likely had little to do with the lady in question. Why would it?