Page 49 of His Illegitimate Duchess

Elizabeth, like always, was in awe of the conviction with which he spoke.

Like no problem would dare defy him. As if unforeseen complications didn’t exist in his world.

She, on the other hand, knew only too well how uncertain and unpredictable life was.

But he was almost making her believe that it would all end up well.

He mounted the horse first and, in typical Talbot fashion, made it look effortless, which caused Elizabeth to misjudge the actual difficulty of the undertaking.

Only when she tried to mount the horse did she realise how tall it actually was, so she faltered and almost fell off, but as promised, Colin pulled her up and placed her over his lap.

She shrieked and wound her arms around his neck to stabilise herself.

“Your husband is officially hard of hearing, as of today,” Colin moved his head as far away from her as he could with a wince.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and worriedly put a palm on his chest. “I just got so scared in the moment.”

His grip on her waist tightened.

“It’s alright. The first time is always scary.”

Lizzie nodded, unsure if horses were all they were talking about.

Colin gently urged Bruiser to start walking, and Lizzie focused all her senses on remaining upright despite the unfamiliar motion.

“Mind, this is ordinarily not done,” he motioned towards their bodies with his chin, “it is unfair to the horse to carry both of our weights unless there’s an emergency.

But I wanted you to familiarise yourself with the height and the sensation in a safe manner before riding on your own, and Miss Judy would have far more trouble carrying both of us than Bruiser does. ”

“I’m sorry, Bruiser,” Lizzie said and stroked between his ears.

Talbot’s lips curled. Lizzie failed to see what he was amused by. She simply gave Bruiser the acknowledgement and courtesy he was owed. She turned her face away from Talbot, but his hold on her tightened.

“Stop squirming, wife,” he said.

“It’s not my doing, it’s the way Bruiser moves,” she protested.

Her husband stopped the horse before tracing her neck with his nose. Then, she did squirm. Colin lightly bit down on her shoulder, and she pressed her lips together to stop a moan from escaping. She was, however, unable to stop herself from arching into him.

He brought his mouth to hers and then parted her lips with his own. Lizzie’s hands flew into his hair - was she trying to hold on or to pull him closer, she didn’t know herself. When she felt him fondling her breasts, she broke the kiss. They were both panting.

“Colin, stop, Bruiser doesn’t need to see this.”

“Khm,” he cleared his throat. “You’re right. We’re here for your riding lessons.”

They were both tense and awkward as Colin urged Bruiser back to the tree stump and helped Lizzie dismount before following her down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him adjust himself in his white riding breeches and was pleased that she wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity.

Colin tethered Bruiser and led Miss Judy to the stump. He helped Lizzie get in the saddle, his hands lingering on her thighs even when she was safely seated.

“Comfortable?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

Lizzie wiggled her behind slightly, to test the saddle , or so she told herself.

“Not entirely. I feel unbalanced, like I might fall at any moment. Why can’t I just ride astride like you do? It would make me feel so much more stable. At least when it’s just us in the forest?” she suggested, and Colin seemed to be thinking about it.

“I shall teach you later,” he promised with a smile that was vaguely familiar, but she was too distracted by her surprise at his acquiescence to recognise it.

“That would be wonderful, thank you!”

“It shall be my pleasure,” he bowed, “now hold on and I’ll lead Miss Judy around a bit.”

When Lizzie got used to being in the saddle, Talbot got on his own horse and, holding both sets of reins, rode next to her towards the town.

“And what is that?” Elizabeth asked for what felt like the tenth time in the thirty minutes they’d been riding.

“That is the cabin the gamekeeper stays in during hunting season. It’s empty in the summer.”

“Does he live at the manor the rest of the year?”

Talbot shook his head. “He prefers to live in the town. His wife’s father runs the inn, so she and the children help him out.”

“Do the children get any education?”

“I think the church provides some lessons.”

“And it’s not part of your duties as the duke to see to that?”

Talbot looked up at the sky as he pondered his answer.

“It hasn’t been. That might change if I determine that educating children might benefit my estate.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“Ah, wife, your naiveté shows. A boy who reads books about adventures and explorers or heroes who fight dragons and overthrow tyrant kings is not likely to grow up into a man who would be satisfied with ploughing my land all day. Not to mention already silly girls getting their heads turned by even sillier ideas from novels.”

Elizabeth took a moment to digest his words.

“So you are a proponent of apprenticeship?”

Talbot nodded. “They never should have abolished the compulsory apprenticeship system. Give the people a craft, a skill, a job to keep them busy. Leave literature, poetry, art, and philosophy to those with a proclivity for it.”

“But what if one of the village children has a proclivity for it?”

“They cannot afford to,” he said, and she knew only too well how right he was.

“Is that the church?” she asked, squinting at what looked like a bell tower in the distance, and when he confirmed, she asked, “Why do we never go?”

“Do you have a habit of attending services?” he replied with a question of his own.

“Growing up, we never did. But Mrs. Barlow and Jane taught me the importance of faith. God is everywhere, so even without going to church, I am able to pray and worship Him.”

“Do you?”

“All the time.”

“We can go next Sunday if you wish. The local vicar is close to retiring, so I cannot promise an engaging sermon.”

“My cousin Andrew is actually looking to go into the clergy after Oxford,” Lizzie said, trying not to sound as hopeful as she felt.

“Is he? When we return to London, I can meet with him and see if he would be a good fit to take over this living.”

Lizzie beamed with happiness, and Talbot shook his head.

“This is a compulsion I am too weak to fight.”

“What is?” she asked, nonplussed.

“This need I have to put that smile on your face,” he said, looking angry at himself, and urged both horses to turn back.

When he found a tree stump that he deemed good enough to be used as a mounting block, they both got off their horses and continued on foot, stopping to look at mushrooms and flowers and birds and trees and whatever else caught Elizabeth’s eye as she walked.

“And they truly know which plants are bad for them? Are you jesting with me?”

“I am not,” Colin said vehemently. “Horses are extremely intelligent animals,” he said as he stroked Bruiser’s mane.

“I wonder what it must have been like for those horses at Peterloo,” she said absent-mindedly, and only a few steps later realised that Colin was no longer next to her.

“What do you mean?” she heard his voice behind her, so she turned around to look at him.

“I mean, they are so intelligent and kind, can you imagine how awful it must have been for them to be forced to go into the crowd and trample those people?”

Colin said nothing for a moment, his face paler than usual, then he shook his head slightly and spoke, “Horses have always been used in wars.”

“Doesn’t mean they enjoy it,” she countered.

“I must confess I’ve never considered their feelings on the matter.”

She shrugged, then pointed her chin at a tree. “Why is that tree alone over there?”

“That’s Kett’s Oak,” he told her.

“Why does it have a name?”

“That tree is said to be over 200 years old.”

“That cannot be!” Elizabeth exclaimed as she stared at the mighty tree that stood alone, towering (and, it seemed to her, watching ) over the rest of the forest. For the second time that day, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

She stood before the tree and felt in her bones that they had both come from the same source, that they were bound by a strange kind of kinship on this Earth, and, as bizarre as it was, she was comforted by the fact that the tree had been alive long before her birth and would most likely stay alive long after her death.

All my worries are small and insignificant, she thought as she inhaled deeply with her eyes closed. The world is so much bigger than I am.

She opened her eyes and found her husband staring at her. She looked away, embarrassed, and started walking again.

Ten minutes later, Elizabeth felt something wet on her cheek. Before she could understand what was happening, an abundant summer rain started drenching everything in sight.

“Run to the cabin,” Colin urged as he took the reins from her hand and jumped on Bruiser. “I’ll tether the horses and join you as soon as I can.”

Although the cabin was fairly close by, Lizzie’s entire attire was soaking wet by the time she reached it. The rain had been so fast and so heavy that not even the trees could provide much cover. Colin came in a moment later.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he looked her over. “You need to disrobe immediately, else you’ll catch a cold.”

He looked around the room, panicking more than Lizzie felt was necessary, then knelt before the fireplace and attempted to start a fire.

Had he ever needed to start a fire on his own? She wondered.

“I don’t know where anything is, Colin. May I start the fire, and you find us some clothes or a coverlet?”

Elizabeth was careful not to smile at his relief when he stood up. When he came back with a pile of rugs, blankets, and coverlets, she had successfully warmed the room. There was some sort of animal skin in front of the fireplace, and that is where her husband chose to dump his loot.

“Disrobe.”