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Authors: Annette K. Larsen

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BOOK: Missing Lily (Tales of Dalthia)
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“I’m happy to check again if that’s what you’d like.”

“I want to go,” I insisted, looking at my hands. “I need to see it, otherwise I won’t believe you.”

There was a smile in his voice as he asked, “I’m that untrustworthy, am I?”

“I’m that stubborn.”

He sat back, studying me in silence for a moment as I held his gaze without blinking. “There is a pond not far from the house. The horses should be able to take us close enough to see just how far the water has risen. That should give us a good idea of what the river level might be.” Rosamond entered to clear some dishes as Rhys studied me silently. “Do you think you can ride a horse?”

I assessed my discomfort level. There was still a burning at my hip when I moved, but it was bearable. “You said it’s not far?”

“Very close, in fact.”

I nodded quickly. “I’d like to go.”

“Very well.” Rhys stood up and circled the table, offering both hands to help me up, and then draped my shawl over my shoulders. He turned to Rosamond. “See that she gets into some suitable riding clothes. I’ll be in the stables.”

Rosamond easily located an old riding habit from among Lady Fallon’s attire. The skirt was full, so it would easily drape over me as well as the horse’s hindquarters. The riding boots were too big, but would suffice. Once I was all set to go, Rosamond looked at me as though determined to see the truth as she asked, “And how are you feeling this afternoon? Are you aching much?”

“I’m doing well,” I answered without thought.

She raised her eyebrows and gave me a disapproving look. I let out a breath. “It hurts quite a bit, but sitting still for too long just makes me stiff. I’d rather be moving.” She squinted her eyes and then nodded.

I reached the stables and watched Rhys work for a few moments before anyone noticed my arrival. One groom worked alongside him as he secured the saddle on his new stallion. There was a mare standing ready with a traditional saddle sitting on her back. I was about to step inside when a conversation coming from my left distracted me.

“You think he’ll return soon?”

I peered through the door to the tack room, where two grooms were organizing equipment.

“Undoubtedly,” the second groom answered.

“He makes everything so much harder.”

“The young master has always been difficult to deal with, most especially when he is in one of his
moods
.”

My brow furrowed. Rhys was difficult for the servants to work with? I turned to observe him. He appeared to be having a congenial conversation with the groom working at his side. What moods could they be referring to?

Rhys smiled as soon as he saw me, but it fell when he noticed my expression. He glanced from me to the mare he had prepared for me, and back again before becoming flustered. “My apologies. I wasn’t thinking. You probably want a ladies’ saddle.”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not at all. I much prefer this sort.” While I was nearly as proficient in a ladies’ saddle as I was in a traditional one, I had learned to ride mostly with my sister Ella, whose disdain for sidesaddle had worn off on me. We never rode sidesaddle unless we were with our mother.
 

Though still curious about the conversation between the grooms, I walked in, patting ‘Joe’ on the neck as I passed him, and then greeted my own mount. As I rubbed the mare’s nose, Rhys commented, “You remind me of my mother.”

I smiled. “Well, I am wearing her clothes.” I looked at him, hoping the reminder of his mother wouldn’t make him sad.
 

He just grinned. “No, I mean the saddle. She always used this one.” He rested his hand on it, a look of fondness in his eyes.

“You don’t mind my using it?”

“I would love for it to be used again.” He ran his hand over the smooth, worn leather.
 

His comment made me glad and sad at the same time. “I wish I could have met her.”

“She would have liked you. She always wanted a daughter.”

I looked at him, flattered into silence. The moment was short-lived as one of the stable hands pushed a mounting block over. “Shall we be on our way then?” Rhys stepped over to the stallion and mounted while the stable hand helped me onto the block and I tried to situate myself atop the docile mare. I winced, attempting to adjust to a more comfortable position.

“Are you sure about this, Miss Lily?” Rhys’s concern was obvious, but I was determined.

I sighed in frustration before requesting a hand down and then asking for a ladies’ saddle.

“So, you do prefer sidesaddle?” Rhys asked.

I shook my head. “No, but with the scrapes along my side, it will likely be more comfortable.”

Rhys dismounted, helping the groom switch saddles for me, then helped me mount before returning to his own horse.

I nodded to Rhys when I was ready, and though he appeared to barely nudge the stallion, he took off at a trot. My mare and I set out after them at a more sedate pace. The stallion pranced and sidestepped as Rhys pulled him under control.

“Old Joe isn’t used to you yet,” I commented.

“Joe is not going to be his name,” he proclaimed as our mounts settled into a walk alongside one another.

“Well, you’d better name him soon, because though it is vastly inappropriate, Joe is the only name I have for him.” Rhys just shook his head with a smile on his face. “And what is the little lady’s name?”

“Sapphire,” he answered with a wistful smile.

“Your mother named her?” It was more a statement than a question, and Rhys simply nodded. “Is it difficult seeing her clothes worn, her horse being ridden?”

He breathed deeply. “I won’t pretend I don’t feel it. But it doesn’t hurt.” He paused. “I thought it would.”

“Good. The last thing I want is to cause you pain on top of the inconvenience.”

He shook his head. “It’s no inconvenience.”

I smiled at his assurance. “You mean you would be riding out to check the water level of the pond even if I weren’t here?”

“You may have altered my routine, but that’s very different from being an inconvenience.”

I was comforted by his reassurance. He had never acted as though he minded my presence, but I certainly worried about the oddity and disruption of my being here, unknown and unannounced. I readjusted my seating. The sidesaddle felt much better on my injuries, but it was far from comfortable.

I caught him studying me for a moment before he asked, “And how is the invalid faring?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How much farther is the pond?”
 

He laughed and chose not to respond as he led his mount off the soggy roadway and over a rise. From the top, I saw the pond stretching out, surrounded by tall grass and reeds. It was a lovely sight, all green and lush. I forgot for a moment our purpose in coming here and simply enjoyed the scene. That is, until I heard Rhys sigh.

I looked over at him. “Well?”

“It does not look promising, Miss Lily.”
 

My shoulders sagged, even as I tried to hide my disappointment.
 

“Stay here. I’m going to see how much of the surrounding ground is saturated.” He nudged his horse into action before I could say anything, walking the horse carefully closer to the pond. The stallion’s hooves made a sucking noise as they pulled from the mud.

I couldn’t stay on my horse any longer. I leaned back, carefully pulling my front leg over the pommel before sliding down with a grunt of discomfort. The grass I landed on was spongy but seemed solid enough. For a moment I just stood, reveling in the feeling of having my legs straight, then I took a few steps away from my horse, and that’s all it took.

My foot sunk into mud up to my ankle. I gave a very unladylike groan of annoyance and tried to pull it out. It wouldn’t move.

“Lord Fallon!” I called out, but he was too far away to hear my pitiful cry. “Rhys!” I yelled louder and he turned toward me. “I need help!”
 

He turned his horse and urged it toward me, then stopped, assessing the situation.
 

“I’m stuck,” I lamented, desperately trying to keep my skirts out of the mud as I teetered.
 

He continued toward me, trying not to laugh and failing dismally.
 

“Just help me get out.” I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to laugh or cry. “It’s not funny,” I insisted as his chuckling turned into broad laughter. “I am very tempted to pick up a handful of this mud and throw it at you. Now stop laughing and help me.”

He ended his laughter on a sigh. “Oh, Miss Lily. The only thing that would accomplish would be to get your hand dirty.” He pulled his mount right up beside me, inspecting the ground before he dismounted. “What in the world made you get off your horse?”

“I was hurting.” It sounded pitiful and I knew it. But I felt pitiful.

“And you thought this would help?” He crouched down and pulled my skirts out of the way. “Already past your ankle. Is it just the mud, or is your foot caught on any roots?” I glanced at him, a bit annoyed, and he explained. “I don’t want to try and pull you out if you’re caught on something.”

“It’s just the mud.”

“Very well.” He stepped up behind me and my breath caught as he wrapped his left arm around my waist and took hold of my ankle, easily pulling my foot from the mud. My too-large boot, however, was a different matter. He set me down on solid ground but kept his arm around my waist since I was now balancing on one foot. I stood there, trying to decide where and how to hold on to him to keep my balance. I’d never had a man’s arm wrapped around me this way.
 

Rhys stared down at the hole in which my boot resided. “How in the world—”

“It was too big,” I answered his unfinished question.

“Ah,” was his succinct reply.
 

“I suppose I could walk without it.”

“No need.” He scooped me up and rather unceremoniously put me on top of my horse. It was a good thing it happened so quickly. It gave me barely any time to be mortified by the fact that my skirts did
not
stay properly situated the entire time. He turned his back the moment he heaved me into the saddle anyway.

Oh well.

I rather pointedly adjusted my skirts and hooked my leg over the pommel while trying to regain even a portion of my poise and posture. He plucked my boot from the mud and put it in his saddle bag. I didn’t dare look at him while he mounted. I was only barely holding my blush at bay and knew that any look from him would bring it out.

He started chuckling again, so I decided to take my leave. I nudged Sapphire into motion, leading her toward the road. Rhys quickly caught up with me. “My apologies, Miss Lily. That was unpardonably rude of me, but you looked so adorably helpless.”

I kept my eyes straight ahead, ignoring my burning cheeks.

 
“How do you feel? You said you were hurting.”

I wanted to snap, ‘
I am
,’ but managed to hold my tongue. I had made the decision to ride out with him. It was my own fault that I was hurting. “I’ll be fine.”

“That was not at all convincing.”

I shook my head and clenched my teeth against the pain, exasperated at myself more than anything. “I should have known better than to get on a horse less than two days after I fell from one.”

“I should have insisted you stay back and rest. I’m not taking very good care of you, am I?”

I turned to him, my brow raised. “On the contrary, Your Lordship. I feel very well looked after. Aside from which, I’m really not your responsibility.”

His brow furrowed. “You expect me
not
to take responsibility for a little girl I found nearly frozen, huddling in my stables?”

“Firstly, I’m not a little girl.”

“I didn’t—”

“And secondly, I only meant that you are not responsible for my own decisions. I insisted on coming out here,” I reminded him. “I don’t expect you to save me from myself.”

He said nothing and I let the silence rest, hoping I had not seemed angry or unpleasant. For some reason his referring to me as little irked me.
 

“That’s an admirable quality.”

I was jarred from my thoughts by his words. “Pardon?”

“Not allowing anyone else to take responsibility for your decisions. I admire that.”

I blinked. “Thank you.”

When we arrived back at the stables, Rosamond was there to greet us. After Rhys helped me to the ground, I readily admitted to her that I might have been too hasty in my decision to ride. She whisked me up to my room, where she re-bandaged my hip and gave me a gentle scolding about the virtue of patience and knowing one’s limits. I smiled and agreed, then happily joined her in the kitchen, where she worked and I sat still in a comfortable chair by the fire.

“Why the master let you go at all, I’ll never know.”

I smiled to myself. “It wasn’t really the master’s decision, now was it?” She looked at me sideways. “My anxiety over returning home has made me rash in my decision making. It’s my own fault.”

BOOK: Missing Lily (Tales of Dalthia)
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