Thirty-Eight
Eight. Weeks.
Eight very long weeks, which included forty-two dinners, thirty-six rides—twelve of which had been just the two of them—and five fabricated deliveries to Miss Hancock’s house. That was how Aaron marked time now. Instead of days or hours, races or training schedules, he framed his life by when he saw Sophia and what they did together.
He’d even written her a letter while he’d gone to look at a horse. He’d had to deliver it himself, since he’d been away all of three days. The embarrassment of handing it over faded when she blushed and produced a letter of her own. Hers had, naturally, been five times longer than his, but he still liked the idea that neither of them wanted to go long without sharing their thoughts with the other.
Aaron’s ability to stand by his early November resolve to wait for her to have her adventures was feeling as wan and thin as the December sunlight. Only his nightly conversations with his Bible gave him the strength to keep his mouth shut about his feelings while opening up about his life.
Today, Sophia had joined him in observing the horses training on the Heath. Aaron positioned them on the berm overlooking the area where the horses were doing their brush runs, so they would have a modicum of privacy.
“You’ll be very proud of me,” Sophia said, eyes trained on the horses below. “I told Harriet no this morning.”
It was a skill she had to learn if she was going to live with Miss Hancock. “Impressive. What about?”
“Feathers. She wanted to get us matching hair plumes.”
Aaron didn’t try to hide his laughter. “There are going to be feathers on your dressing table when you get back.”
“And they’ll look lovely as part of the maid’s duster. I thought about sticking them on her horse’s bridle, but I’m afraid that might give her ideas.”
The ensuing silence was a comfortable one, free of tension and anticipation. Eventually one of them would speak again—probably her—and the conversation would continue. It was the rhythm between them now.
“Have you seen Lord Rigsby lately?”
Aaron nodded. “I had dinner with him last night.”
“He’s settled in? That’s rather quick, isn’t it?”
Another nod. “Yes, but he had everything ready. He was just waiting to find the right place to make his home.”
That had been just one more in the growing number of revelations he was having about himself. Returning to his one-room cottage after hearing Rigsby’s plans to make his new house a home had reinforced to Aaron that it was time to move on. The cottage was just one more testament to his past that needed to be let go.
He didn’t want to bring a wife home to that cottage. Nor was it a place he wanted for himself. He wanted more.
Just one more reason to wait.
That didn’t make it any easier.
What had been a glimmer of hope, an opportunity for more, had taken root and grown. Now he had to wait for the right time to let it bloom.
“My request was approved today.”
She turned to him, smiling in delight. “That’s wonderful! You’re an officially licensed trainer now, hmm?”
He nodded. Being a horse trainer was a step down the social ladder from being a stable manager, but he no longer cared. What he loved was working with the horses. Rigsby had given Aaron the idea by asking him to consider coming on as his trainer. The notion had niggled at him until he’d accepted it was what he truly wanted.
Hudson was more than capable of overseeing his own stable. Oliver had developed a genuine interest in running his. Both men wanted Aaron as their trainer as well, so he was going to be just as busy, if not more so, than he’d been before.
Now he just needed his own yard. He could look into renting space near everyone else, but he was tired of hearing whispers and getting dirty looks.
He glanced at Sophia, her head tipped back to feel the sun.
He loved her. He’d known for certain two weeks ago when she’d fallen off her horse and lay in the grass, laughing for five minutes. His dismount had been clumsy as he’d rushed to her side, but when she’d opened her eyes and looked up at him, he’d known.
“I’m buying a corner of Hudson’s land.” The words came out brusquer than he’d intended, but her reaction to this news was going to tell him a lot about whether she would ever be satisfied with what he could offer.
She brought her chin down and looked at him. “You are?”
“There’s an old stable there they used for farm animals before the land around the house was turned into horse pasture. I’m going to build my yard there.” He took a deep breath. “And a house.”
Saying it out loud, hearing the statement in his own voice, crashed through him and nearly had him falling off his horse. If he could guarantee it would give Sophia the same clarity he’d gained when she’d fallen, he’d have happily tumbled to the ground.
He plunged on, afraid to look at her and see her reaction. “It will take a while. I’ll refurbish and expand the old stable first. I’ll work from Hawksworth until it’s done.”
“That’s wonderful.” Rhiannon pranced halfway around Shadow in a circle. Sophia started laughing. “I’m so excited I tried to come in and hug you. It doesn’t work well on a horse.”
Before she’d stopped speaking, Aaron was on the ground. “We can remedy that.”
It would be the first time they’d touched since her return from London, unless one counted the times their hands would connect when exchanging items. Her wide eyes indicated she was as aware of that fact as he was.
“Yes, I suppose we can,” she said quietly.
He reached up. She kicked her foot free of the stirrup and leaned over to place her hands on his shoulders. He grasped her waist and lowered her to the ground, leaving them standing in relative privacy between the two horses.
Then she was wrapped in his arms.
She held him tight and whispered, “Aaron, I’m so happy for you.” She eased back but didn’t lower her arms.
He looked down at her, taking in the fire of her hair, the emerald jewels of her eyes, the smoothness of her skin.
Patience. He needed patience.
And to remember they were standing atop a hill where anyone could look over and see them.
He stepped back and threaded his fingers together to give her a leg up onto her horse.
As he remounted, he rejoiced in her excitement about his plans. That brought him one step closer to making her a part of them.
SOPHIA WAS AN idiot.
Or Aaron Whitworth was an idiot.
Possibly the idiocy could be equally divided between the two of them.
Whatever way it fell, she was in agony.
“We should take a trip after Christmas,” Harriet said over breakfast, two days after what Sophia’s brain was fixating on as The Hug. Capital letters and dramatic emphasis included.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Sophia reminded her.
“It’s not as if we’ve anyone to answer to.”
“What about your father?” She wouldn’t have dared ask about Harriet’s parents when she first started working, but she could no longer suppress her growing curiosity.
“He doesn’t have anyone to answer to either.” Harriet looked up, her eyes unfocused, seemingly lost in another world. Then she blinked. “Where should we go?”