Face the Night by Lani Forbes

Author:Lani Forbes [Forbes, Lani]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing

Chapter

Twenty-Four

“I still don’t think it counts,” Adrian protested the next day.

“Oh, it absolutely counts. And now Edith gets to decide your punishment.” Rose grinned at him from the bench seat on the other side of the coach. Adrian placed a hand against the velvet-lined wall to steady himself as they bounced along the uneven dirt road. He much preferred horseback, but the coach was the only way to get Edith to Saint’s Landing. Something that apparently—thanks to Rose—might soon change.

He still couldn’t get over the shock he’d felt when he came back up the hill from the pastures and saw Edith trotting around the paddock. Rose had miraculously managed to get her on the horse by joining her in the saddle, one arm secured around his sister’s waist while the other directed the reins. The governess’s bonnet had fallen off at some point, and the two of them laughed as they completed several laps around the fenced enclosure. Sunlight illuminated hints of red in Rose’s brown hair and flushed her cheeks, but nothing lightened her countenance as effectively as her carefree smile. She nearly stole the breath from his lungs. A strange pressure had built behind his eyes as he watched them together. He never thought he’d see Edith ride a horse again.

“You said I couldn’t get her on a horse, and I got her on a horse,” Rose said matter-of-factly.

“I was absolutely on the horse!” Edith chimed in.

Adrian sighed. He knew he was hopelessly outnumbered by these two stubborn women. But if he was honest with himself, he secretly loved it. He hoped to be outnumbered on many more issues concerning Rose and his little sister.

Rose was now back in her shapeless brown novice dress, a drastic difference from the cinched waist of his pants and shirt that she’d borrowed that night. It was as if two different versions of her existed—the skittish, standoffish novice who was about as accessible as an iron safe, and the bright, lively wildflower that seemed to peek out from between the weeds if he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse.

That night. Sweet Mother of the Saints, he wished he could go back to that night . . . to what had almost happened between them and ensure that it actually did . . . He shifted his position and tried very hard not to think about such things.

How was he supposed to focus on finding a wife at tomorrow night’s gathering when all he kept thinking about was how he wanted to snatch that ridiculous bonnet off Rose’s head and watch her beautiful red-brown hair tumble down her back? To see her face joyously alight as it had been when she was on the horse with his sister?

Perhaps it was a good day to go to church after all.

The journey into town would take about two hours, and he had been looking forward to the time they’d spend locked up together in his father’s coach. But ideally, his little sister wouldn’t be bobbing like a cork in a pond between them.

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