Never Fall for Your Fiancee

“Are you ready, Minerva?” Vee, on the other hand, couldn’t contain her excitement. After her rude outburst yesterday and the subsequent tense discussion the sisters had afterward, the youngest Merriwell had dug her heels in—until three stylish riding habits had arrived in the second batch of new outfits from the modiste. The impressive garments came with a message from Payne, who informed them His Lordship thought they had been cooped up inside long enough and should ride to the village later in the morning on horseback. With that exciting prospect, Vee was on board again and vowed to make more of an effort not to be offended by everything, because she had always wanted to learn to ride.

Minerva, in stark comparison, had never wanted to learn to ride.

In fact, she had never wanted to be nearer than twenty feet to a horse her entire life and had deftly managed to avoid being so without the sturdy security of a carriage and an able driver protecting her person.

Horses were big, unpredictable, and fast creatures who, frankly, terrified her. Sitting on the back of one was Minerva’s idea of complete hell. Perhaps if she possessed the skills necessary to be a horsewoman—namely balance and the graceful athleticism required to stay on top of one—today’s trial wouldn’t be a trial at all. However, with her gangly long limbs, complete lack of coordination, and genuine fear that her innate clumsiness might cause her to fall and break her neck, she would rather face the Spanish Inquisition than an hour on horseback.

“Hurry up, Minerva! The gentlemen are waiting!” Now even Diana was chivvying her. “Lord Bellingham says once we’ve mastered the basics, we are going to ride the mile to the village afterward. An actual quaint English village! I am dying to see it. I always fancied myself living in a village over smelly old London. Parts of it are supposedly medieval.”

Clearly only Minerva was dreading their outing, but with Vee finally smiling for once and nothing tart or pessimistic coming from Diana’s lips since yesterday’s dinner, she could hardly be the one to spoil their fun.

“Go on ahead. I shall meet you down there.”

She needed a minute alone to calm her bouncing nerves. With any luck, Hugh would have selected a squat, docile mount for her, or one so old and slow a tortoise would give it a run for its money—one low enough to the ground that the inevitable fall wouldn’t hurt.

Much.

With a sense of impending doom, she poked another of her new hatpins into the strange, feathered confection on her head. It wasn’t so much a hat as a decoration, but it was exceedingly pretty and had been made to match the magnificent burgundy riding habit she was sporting. At least that was something she could appreciate. The heavy velvet skirt was longer at the back than she was used to, but the fabric was stunning, and the cut sublime. Especially the tight bodice trimmed with an homage to military braiding and twenty shiny brass buttons. And it was new. She had never owned anything before that wasn’t secondhand.

She stared at her reflection and inhaled deeply. Of all the challenges she would have to face as an earl’s pretend fiancée, this was hardly the most challenging. As Hugh had reassured her last night, any activity that kept them occupied during his mother’s visit would make the time pass more quickly, along with diverting his mother’s attentions elsewhere. The more diverted she was, the easier their brief time together would be.

Whilst out riding, Minerva wouldn’t have to lie, pretend to be anyone else, or remember an elaborate backstory—as all gently bred ladies knew how to ride, and he’d told his mother repeatedly how the pair of them enjoyed nothing more than galloping across the fields together. But at least he had faithfully promised there would be no galloping or even cantering. All she had to do was place her bottom in the saddle and keep it there.

How hard could that be?