Читать книгу Past Destinies - Constance Ruth Clark - Страница 11

Chapter 6

“Come on, Black,” Elizabeth whispered to her aptly-named stallion as she turned him in the direction of Sarah Raven’s house.

They had agreed to meet today to finish reading Jane Austin’s Emma. The two girls often got together to read books and poetry by different authors and to write their own ideas as well. Sarah was admittedly better at writing stories, but Elizabeth felt that her poetry could hold its own. They had entered numerous contests but had yet to win anything more than an honorable mention.

Bending low over Black’s head, Elizabeth encouraged her horse to go faster across the field and to jump various stone walls as they rushed toward their destination. Elizabeth was riding sidesaddle. Although she preferred to ride astride, it wasn’t ladylike. She had been told so more times than she cared to remember, and of course one must be ladylike at all costs.

Arriving in the Raven yard, she pulled Black up short, and he reared slightly before settling down and standing as she’d taught him. As Elizabeth jumped to the ground and tossed the reins over his head, Sarah came outside to greet her.

“Elizabeth, I declare, someday you are going to kill yourself the way you ride that beast!” Sarah stood a safe distance away from Black’s flashing hooves, watching Elizabeth walk him toward the stable.

A groom met her half-way, and she handed the reins over but didn’t let go of them.

“See that he gets a full rubdown, and that he is not left with the saddle cinched. In fact, just take it off altogether.” She stared at the confident young man of about sixteen with suspicion. “Have you cared for my horse before?”

“Yes, Miss Gates,” he replied with a smile. “I cared for him last week when you visited.”

“Oh yes.” Elizabeth didn’t remember him, but he was probably right. “So you know what to do for him?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake Elizabeth, it’s only a horse!” Sarah said in exasperation. “Come into the house, we’ve more important things to do!”

Releasing the reins, Elizabeth walked to where her friend was standing.

“That horse means a great deal to me.” She frowned and looked back as the groom led him away. “I raised him from a colt.”

Sarah shook her head and led the way inside. She was well aware of Elizabeth’s attachment to her horse, but Elizabeth knew she didn’t understand it. Sarah had made no secret of the fact that she thought horses were beasts of burden, not friends, an opinion Elizabeth had tried to change to no avail.

That afternoon, after finishing Emma and settling comfortably on Sarah’s bed, as was their custom for literary activities, Sarah surprised her by asking, “Have you ever been kissed by a man?”

“What?” Elizabeth looked at her friend in shock. “No. Never! Why on earth do you ask?”

“Well…” Sarah blushed prettily and studied her hands.

“Don’t tell me! Who kissed you?” she demanded with a laugh, half-horrified and half-excited at the thought.

“Remember Billy Adams?” Sarah asked shyly.

“Not little Billy Adams?” she asked in disbelief.

“He’s not so little anymore,” Sarah said, laughing nervously. “He’s taller than you and I now.”

“So what was it like?” Elizabeth looked closely at Sarah.

She didn’t look any different. Wouldn’t she look, well, more grown up now that she’d been kissed?

“It was a very interesting experience,” Sarah confided. “Of course I shouldn’t have let him kiss me at all, only I wanted so much to see what it was like.”

“‘Oh Kiss, which dost those ruddy gems impart,’” Elizabeth quoted softly. “‘Or gems, or fruits of new-found paradise. Breathing all bliss as sweetening to the heart. Teaching dumb lips a nobler exercise!’” Elizabeth closed her eyes in bliss at the thoughts the poem conjured.

“Shakespeare had it right!” Sarah sighed. “It is wonderful.”

“The poem is beautiful and wonderfully romantic, but I’m sure a real kiss could never be as nice,” Elizabeth declared

“I guess it all depends on who is doing the kissing,” Sarah remarked with a knowing look.

“Don’t tell me you’re allowing Billy Adams to court you?” Elizabeth asked in disbelief. “Oh, it’s too silly to be real!”

She laughed, jumping up and pretending to be a love-struck suitor overcome with Sarah’s beauty.

“Elizabeth! Stop!” Sarah protested as she laughed helplessly at her best friend’s antics. “I really do like him.”

Elizabeth raised her head from her prostrate position on the floor, all merriment forgotten. Slowly she stood up and returned to sit by her friend on the bed. Sarah stared back at her with eyes pleading for understanding.

“Sarah, if this is what you want…if he is who you want, then I am very happy for you,” she said slowly and seriously.

“I don’t know yet if he is who I want, but he is very nice, and I do like him very much,” Sarah said. “What about you? Jonas Carver has been rather forward in his attentions to you. One can only assume he must have encouragement.”

“One can assume otherwise,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head firmly. “I have no intentions of seriously considering his suit.”

“But why, Elizabeth? He is from a good family, he’s wealthy enough to make sure you and your family are well taken care of, and he seems like a perfect gentleman. I don’t understand your objection to him.”

“For the sake of my family, I wish I could feel differently, but there is something about him I can’t quite trust,” she said earnestly. “While his words and actions are proper, I have a feeling there is something untoward under his gentlemanly exterior.”

“What do you suspect?” Sarah leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement.

Elizabeth shook her head and frowned.

“I’m not certain. While I do admit not being overly concerned with a gentleman’s attentions, I have never felt so uncomfortable with an admirer before,” she said.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Likely you’re just afraid that you finally have a beau,” she said with a little giggle.

“Sarah!” Elizabeth said. “I promise I am not. I am not entirely averse to having a beau, just not Mr. Carver.”

“Who, then?” Sarah pressed.

“There is someone.” Elizabeth looked out of the corner of her eye at her friend and wondered if she was doing the right thing by revealing him.

“I knew it!” Sarah squealed. “Tell me!”

“Remember the fortune teller at the fair?”

“Of course,” Sarah said and nodded. “You told me she said nothing of importance and was an old fool.”

“I lied,” Elizabeth admitted. Standing, she hugged herself and walked over to stare out the window.

“You lied?” Sarah sounded shocked.

“She was anything but a fool. She showed me my soul mate,” Elizabeth admitted, refusing to look at her friend. She knew how crazy she was going to sound trying to clarify this.

“Showed you? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how to explain what happened,” Elizabeth said. “I only know that she took my hand, and one moment we were in the tent and the next we were standing in a field looking at a group of soldiers. I knew him immediately, I can’t explain how, I just saw him and knew.” She looked back at her friend’s open-mouthed astonishment. “Then he was blown up with the other men.” She couldn’t stop the tears from choking her voice as she revealed the only secret she’d ever kept from her best friend. “He died during the war.”

“Elizabeth, that’s horrible.” Sarah hugged her friend tightly from behind. “Are you saying you had a beau, and now he’s gone?”

Elizabeth shook her head and blinked hard to clear her eyes.

“No, that’s just it, I never had him.” Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she continued. “The gypsy showed him to me again. She told me he was in the future, and she’d fetch him back for me. Every time I think about what she said and what I saw that day, I think I must be touched in the head. But it happened, Sarah, it did.” Elizabeth swiped at her unwanted tears.

“If you say it happened then I believe you,” Sarah said with a best friend’s devotion. “But that’s good news. It means you do have someone out there, after all.”

“And it’s not Mr. Carver,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “She was most emphatic about that.”

“Oh, I do love a good intrigue!” Sarah clapped her hands in excitement. “We shall have to explore this mystery further.”

Elizabeth reached over and hugged her dear friend tightly.

“Another time. I’m afraid. I must be going,” she said regretfully. Yet, she felt strangely relieved. “Aunt Mabel wants me home on time to help with supper tonight.”

“All right.” Sarah’s disappointment was evident as she walked her friend downstairs.

Outside, Elizabeth mounted her stallion confidently, in spite of Sarah’s trepidation. As she often told Elizabeth, Sarah didn’t like riding at all, preferring to drive a carriage. She claimed it was safer than being on top of ‘one of those beasts!’ Elizabeth disagreed and rode as much as possible, being a superb horsewoman. She had raised and trained her stallion from the time he had been weaned. As a result, he was completely devoted to her.

“I’ll see you sometime next week,” Elizabeth called as she slowly walked Black across the barnyard toward the road.

“Be careful riding that beast home!” Sarah called back.

“Aren’t I always?”

“So you say!” Sarah laughed as she waved. “Goodbye!”

Elizabeth waved back and set off at a relaxed jog down the road toward home. Cutting across the fields, she slowed Black down to a walk as she mused over what Sarah had revealed to her. Kissed by a boy! No, Billy was a man now. Since the erotic dreams had started, Elizabeth had often thought about what it must be like to be kissed, but she couldn’t quite imagine it. It always seemed so wonderful in books and poetry, but nothing was ever as good in real life as in books. If it was, what would be the sense in reading at all?

Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth was caught unaware when Black reared in fright without warning, pitching her to the ground before galloping off across the fields. She barely had a chance to register the snake that had frightened her horse before her head hit a hidden rock in the grass, and she lost consciousness.

She awoke feeling hot breath on her face, Black’s velvety nose nudging her gently as he snorted his concern. He had come back for her despite his fears, and she opened her eyes, wincing at the pain in her head.

“Foolish horse,” she chided softly.

He nudged her again, as though not satisfied that she was all right until she put her hand on his nose. Then he stood impatiently, waiting for her to rise to her feet and remount. It took her much longer than it normally would have because her head was pounding as if a thousand cattle were stampeding over it. Putting a hand to the back of her head, she was a bit alarmed to feel blood trickling down her neck.

Finally she was standing, if a bit unsteadily, and became instantly sick, making Black sidestep. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep herself upright, and moaned in pain as she concentrated on mounting Black.

She managed to grab his mane, and he stood perfectly still as she carefully lifted her foot to the stirrup. That was a first for him. Usually she had to practically jump on his back without the stirrups. Black seemed remorseful, if a horse can feel that emotion, and seemed to know that his mistress was hurt.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get her suddenly-heavy body on his back. Was a head injury supposed to bleed this much? Sinking back down to the ground next to him, clutching the reins, it was the last thought she had before she again lost consciousness.