Page 10 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
With that, he shook his reins, and his horse trotted on down the track.
Addie sat and watched him ride away. Again. But given that once the matter of the sale of The Barbarian was concluded one way or the other, she was unlikely to see Nicholas Cynster again, where was the harm?
His groom had parted from hers and followed his master.
Once they’d both disappeared along the old right of way, Addie stifled a sigh and steered The Barbarian through the gate and into his paddock.
The next several minutes went in dismounting and waiting for her groom, Rory, to unsaddle the big horse, then with Rory carrying her saddle and leading his own mount, they set off toward the stable.
“What were you and Mr. Cynster’s groom talking about?” she asked.
Rory shrugged, but his expression showed a degree of excitement. “This and that. He—Young Gillies is his name—works with Mr. Cynster at the Cynster Stable.”
The place was named with awe and reverence.
Her lips twitched. “So I’d supposed.”
Tall, lanky, and several years older than she, Rory had been her groom since she’d emerged from the schoolroom, but while they’d grown easy in each other’s company, neither were the chatty sort. Consequently, the walk to the stable and the house beyond gave her time to review Nicholas Cynster’s offer and how she should handle placing that before her poor father as well as considering the rather unsettling effect Nicholas had on her.
She’d hoped his impact would have faded—that yesterday had been an aberration, possibly occasioned by not having encountered any gentleman quite like him before—but no. If anything, the leaping of her nerves and the tendency of her senses to swoon and her wits to focus far too intently on him had only grown worse.
It must be because I couldn’t put on my usual mask with him. I’m not accustomed to having gentlemen react to me as me rather than as my alter ego.
Sadly, she didn’t have the option of donning that mask now, not after he’d seen her without it, not once but twice.
With Rory half a step behind her, she strode along the path and considered how she felt about not being able to retreat behind her customary persona and reluctantly admitted that it was, in fact, refreshing to deal openly with a gentleman, to behave normally rather than have to craft and monitor her every gesture and word to support her façade.
That had always been wearying and had only grown more so with the years.
Still, once she gave him her father’s answer, she wouldn’t see Nicholas Cynster again.
That thought led to her weighing up his offer. As far as she could judge, it fell on the better side of fair.
Although occasionally she complained about having to be the one to exercise the stallion, she would miss having The Barbarian to ride. Galloping on his broad back, with all that power beneath her—at her beck and call, so to speak—had grown to be something of a quiet thrill.
Hauling her mind from such thoughts, she focused on the best way to lay Nicholas’s offer before her father and whether she should encourage him to accept or decline.
She was counting on Nicholas accepting either outcome. If her father agreed and parted with the horse, Nicholas would ride off with The Barbarian, and most likely, that would be the last she would see of man or beast. Alternatively, if her father refused the offer, despite Nicholas’s demonstrated doggedness, she doubted he was the sort to push the matter further. He might suggest that the offer remain on the table, but otherwise, he would leave them alone.
Either way—acceptance or refusal—he would be gone.
And given the way she’d been reacting to him, that was an outcome she would be wise to welcome.
Stifling a sigh, she reached the stable yard. With a nod, she parted from Rory and continued toward the house.
As she neared the side door, she frowned and gave herself a mental shake. Really, she had to stop mooning over Nicholas Cynster! It was agoodthingthat she wouldn’t see him beyond that afternoon. Such wishy-washy fiddle-faddling was not at all like her.
With a huff of impatience, she opened the door and stalked into the house, determined to find her father and, without further ado, lay the matter of Nicholas Cynster’s offer for The Barbarian before him.
* * *
After changing out of her riding habit into a practical yet flattering day dress of turquoise cambric—one that bolstered her confidence—Addie went downstairs for her daily meeting with Merriweather and Mrs. Merriweather, who filled the role of housekeeper. In more normal times, her mother would have managed the household, but Addie had stepped in so that her mother could devote herself to the necessary task of keeping her father company.
Once the menus had been agreed and Addie had given permission for Merriweather to replenish the cellar, she climbed the stairs again and headed down the family wing to her father’s private sitting room. As she neared the door and all but unconsciously steeled herself to deal with whatever she might find, she reflected that, despite the challenges, thus far the family, supported by the entire staff, indoors and out, had succeeded in keeping her father’s condition a complete and absolute secret.
Everyone understood what was at stake.
On reaching the door at the end of the corridor, she gripped the knob, drew in a breath, then opened the door and, fixing a brilliant smile on her face, breezed inside with a cheery “Good morning!”
