Carola Dunn by Christmas in the Country Read Free Book Online Page B

garden. I doubt she will wish to go to the Pembroke Arms for a glass of cider!”
     “I doubt it,” he agreed, laughing. “Dash it, a drop of rain just hit my nose. Time we were going home. We’ll take a short cut across the park, and you shall have your gallop.”
     She mounted Dapple with the aid of the block, steadied by his hand. While their hands touched, glove to glove, the hammering of her heart threatened to stifle her. Could she be ill? She did not dare consult him as to the meaning of her symptoms, not when he so studiously avoided her eyes.
     “Hippocrates is ready for a run,” he said in a constricted voice as they started off.
     Exclaiming over his horse’s odd name, Cecily regained her composure.
     “Hippocrates was a famous Greek physician,” he explained, “and it just happens hippo is the Greek for horse.”
     “What about the hippopotamus?”
     “River horse. You have seen pictures? When Hippocrates guzzles his oats too eagerly, I tell him that is what he will end up like.”
     At first their way led along a ride through a fir plantation. By the time they emerged from the trees onto an open track leading uphill across the park, the heavens had opened in good earnest. Within moments, Cecily’s adorable little hat dissolved about her ears and her hair started to lose its pins.
     She must look the veriest hoyden, but she did not care. She would cringe to have Lord Avon see her thus, but Iain—Dr Iain—Dr Macfarlane, she must think of him thus—would not curl his lip at her dishevelled appearance.
     A trickle ran down inside the neck of her habit and she shivered. “Shall we race?”
     “No. You are on unfamiliar ground and an unfamiliar mount. I will not leave you behind.”
     “Ha! As if your hippo could beat Dapple! Come on!”
     Hooves pounding, they sped neck and neck up the hill and over the crest. The mansion spread before them. Cecily hoped anyone looking out of a window would be unable to recognize her through curtains of rain, but she could not bring herself to really mind if they did.
     She exchanged a laughing glance with Iain, still matching her pace for pace whether by chance or design. He signalled to her to take the right branch at a fork in the track.
     “To the stables!”
     Cecily nodded. She was in no fit state to go in through the front door.
     They rode through a stone arch into the deserted stable yard. Cecily walked Dapple over to a mounting block. Iain dismounted and hurried to give her a hand.
     As she started to slide down, her soaked skirts tangled around her legs. She lost her balance. In spite of his steadying hand she would have fallen, but he caught her in his arms.
     For an immeasurable aeon he held her, while their eyes spoke to each other of dreams and wishes, of passion and tenderness.
     Boot-nails sounded on the cobbles. “Coming, m’lady!”
     Instantly Iain released Cecily. Scooping up the train of her habit, she fled.
     At the archway she paused to glance back. Through the pelting raindrops, with smarting eyes, she saw Iain staring after her. His face was a mask of yearning and despair.
     

Chapter 6
     
     Cecily sat by the fire in her chamber, her chilled hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea. She was scarcely aware of her abigail moving about, tut-tutting over her sodden habit and ruined hat. Through the rising steam from the tea, in the flickering flames she saw Iain’s face.
     All the tea in China could not wash away the lump in her throat.
     Her parents would never let her wed a physician, despite his connection to the Duchess of Pembroke and Viscountess Sutton, even if she were not as good as promised to Lord Avon. She could not claim they had not consulted her wishes. Had she expressed the least distaste for the marquis they would have politely declined the invitation to spend Christmas at Felversham.
     She did not dislike the marquis, but she had never bargained for falling headlong in love with his