Fortunately, the morning seemed busy enough that no one cared what she was doing. It was easy to slip the tray among the others in the scullery and escape out the kitchen door.
She took off at a brisk pace. The trees where she was to meet Jonas were a long walk from Meadowland Park, but, fortunately, they were close to the training yard. She should have enough time.
If Jonas was there.
What if he wasn’t? What if something terrible had happened? What if someone had found him? The horrid possibilities were enough to make Sophia want to give up her room in Lady Rebecca’s home and sleep with Jonas under the stars, because at least then she’d know where he was.
Jonas stepped from the trees as she approached, sending a spiral of relief to her lungs and allowing her to breathe easy once more. Only the bowl and plate digging into her side kept her from running to him. She’d made it this far without spilling his breakfast. She could make it five more steps.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her nose into his shirt. He smelled of dirt and grass and horse. To some it would be off-putting, but to her, it was familiar and comforting.
After a few moments, she pulled back. “Where’s Rhiannon?”
“In the cottage I found a little north of here. It’s been long abandoned. Half of it is fallen down, but I’ve managed to fashion a sort of stall on one side and arranged a few scraps of furniture on the other. The area is overgrown, so I have to be careful coming and going, but there’s a few trees about and it’s not far from water. It will do for a while.”
Sophia nodded and then knelt to lower her knapsack to the ground, biting her lip as she opened it. “I brought food.”
Jonas’s stomach rumbled as she removed the bowl and plate. His gaze lifted from the food and narrowed at Sophia. “This isn’t all you got, was it?”
She shook her head. “I ate. I promise. If I ate any more, I’d be sick.”
He nodded, shoved a piece of ham into his mouth, and rewrapped the bowl. He took her knapsack. “Can you come see the cottage now?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure what time it is, and I don’t want to be late.”
He nodded. “I’ll be back here this afternoon. If you can’t come, I’ll find a way to bring a map with me tomorrow morning.”
Sophia licked her lips and pressed them together to keep from crying. This had seemed like such a perfect idea yesterday morning, but it wasn’t an exciting adventure. It was terrifying.
“Soph?” Jonas reached out one hand and nudged her chin up.
“What?” she whispered.
“Be strong and courageous.”
It was a quote Jonas used frequently. While she might have their father’s training manuals, Jonas had his Bible. They’d made a great team over the years, Jonas seeing to the siblings’ faith and Sophia to their livelihood. She couldn’t rest on Jonas’s faith now, though. She had to be strong and courageous on her own and had to trust that God was with her and not just with them.
“Be strong and courageous,” she repeated before giving him one final nod and fleeing down the lane.
Ten
I don’t know about this, Whitworth.” Mr. Barley, the horse and jockey trainer Aaron had been working with, ran a finger across his nose and gave Equinox a narrow look.
Theirs was an interesting relationship, with Aaron filling the shoes of the owner while not having the actual status. It often forced Aaron to exude more confidence than he felt to maintain his authority.
Though he couldn’t verbally agree with Barley, Aaron wasn’t sure about it either. Yet it was the decision he’d made, so it was what they would move forward with.
Not that he would be sad should Miss Fitzroy decide not to appear today. If she walked away from the agreement, Aaron’s honor would remain intact. While there were some who wouldn’t consider breaking an agreement with a woman as a lapse of honor, Aaron did. Those he cared about most would agree.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief if he never saw the feisty redhead again.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself.
He ran a hand down the black thoroughbred’s neck. “Consider it an experiment, Barley. A temporary alternative training method.”
“I’ve added more than enough of your alternative methods, thank you.” One side of the older man’s mouth quirked up as he shook his head. “You’ve made some strange suggestions over the years, but this . . . I just don’t know that it’s worth giving it a shake.”
Aaron was constantly researching and questioning, challenging the established ways of horse training, and some of the ideas he’d brought to the trainer had been short-lived, as they proved themselves inferior to the accepted way of doing things. Sometimes he proposed a truly mad idea just to see if the other man would go along with it.
Even he wouldn’t have come up with this, though.
“A woman,” Barley said with a shake of his head, followed by a deep sigh. “Is she even capable of controlling this beast?”
“She nearly beat me on Poseidon yesterday.” Aaron had been impressed. He also had to give more merit to the circus show now that he knew she was the trainer. Miss Fitzroy was at least good enough to safely manage a challenge race. Would she win?
Maybe.
Something still felt off about her arrival in Newmarket, but he’d learned long ago to trust facts over feelings. The fact was she had the best seat of any woman he’d ever seen on the back of a horse. If there was some other trickery waiting to befall him, it didn’t have to do with her ability to ride.
Mr. Barley sighed. “I don’t know. . . .”
“If she can’t handle the horse, she’ll have to give up the position.” Aaron ran his hand down the horse’s neck again, feeling the jerk of the ready muscles beneath the skin.
The idea that she might fail sent a surge of conflicting thoughts through him. If she couldn’t ride the horse, his issue would return to the far simpler matter of needing to quickly find a new jockey. But she would be left without a means of providing for herself. What would she do? A few days ago she hadn’t been his problem, but now he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t connected to her next steps.
A dull throb started at the nape of his neck and spread through his mind in the wake of the bouncing thoughts. Did he want her to be as good as she claimed? As much as he detested the idea of a female jockey, the fact was that with the challenge only delayed a week, she was currently his best chance of winning it.
Heavy silence fell over the training yard, followed by the low buzz of people from nearby yards who’d come to watch and were really bad at whispering.
His new jockey had arrived.
Aaron slid his watch from his pocket and gave it a quick look. Seven minutes early. A grudging approval tipped the scale more in her favor.
He turned. Once again, the bold expression on her delicate features slammed into his gut and her dramatic coloring stole his breath. She was in another strange riding ensemble consisting of skirt and trousers. If the other women in Newmarket started wearing trousers instead of proper riding habits, their angry fathers and husbands would create far bigger problems than gossiping stable boys.
These garments had obviously seen a great deal more wear than yesterday’s, if the patches and stains were anything to go by. She would hardly be the first person to wear less-than-pristine clothing to accomplish the dirty work of dealing with horses, but it still bothered him.