By the Bay Ch. 13

Ruby peered at her over the rim of her tea cup. "Yes, dear. I'm sure you've noticed that Jay likes something different, something unconventional. He's always craving new experiences; it must be the writer in him." She laughed heartily as she spread some clotted cream over her scone. "I don't think I can count the number of women he's been associated with over the years."

Anita set her half-eaten toast on her plate. "I don't understand. These other women – they are his mistresses?" The idea appalled her.

Ruby laughed again, a beautiful, polished sound. "In the past tense, of course. They rarely keep his interest long. There was the Oriental girl he met at the dancehall a few years back, but he only saw her for a month. The French girl, though, he saw for almost half a year. But that's not surprsing, is it? ShewasFrench." She paused to wink at Anita. "Then there was also the Russian and even an Arab one, if my memory serves right."

"Oh."

There was an odd note in Anita's voice. "I hope I haven't upset you, dear. I don't believe in mincing words or hiding the truth."

Seeing that she had indeed upset Anita, Ruby reached across the table and patted Anita's hand comfortingly. "Men are men, Anita. They're attention span is short. So while you can, wring every drop of pampering you can from them such that they leave you a wealthy woman. Even Jay, who's more sensitive to women's emotions than most men, is still a man. Please don't expect anything from him and get your heart broken in the end."

She gave Anita's hands a comforting squeeze. "I know Jay and I know that he has an aversion to commitment. He likes you for now. And that's enough. As a woman in the same position as you, I can tell you one thing: enjoy it while you can. Savor every moment you have together and make sure, when he leaves, he leaves you with a hefty settlement."

"I don't want his money." Anita said through bloodless lips, wondering how a simple breakfast conversation had gotten this far.

"Then what do you want? His love? Trust me, dear. I've known Jay for more than twenty years. He's completely averse to marriage because his parents failed so miserably at it. And even if he ever gets married, he could never marry you. His marriage would have to be a political one, maybe even a royal wedding."

"A royal wedding?"

Ruby withdrew her hands and leaned back in her chair. "Yes, dear. He's a Duke. It's expected of him to make a good match. Frankly speaking, he's sixth in line to the throne."

Anita felt the blood drain from her face. "Sixth in line to the throne? What throne? The throne of England?"

Ruby raised her eyebrows. "You didn't knnow? As a Duke, he's practically royalty."

"No!"

"Yes."

"I didn't know!"

"Well, now you do. I'm not trying to put an end to your relationship or anything as dramatic as that, but I wanted to warn you about men like Jay. I've met my share of them. You seem like a nice girl and I don't want you to get hurt. So I'll advise you-."

"Not to expect too much, and I understand that completely. He will leave someday. I know. I don't expect anything more. But I'll deal with that in the future. Jay and I have already spoken about this. He has made no promises and neither have I."

Anita took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to ease the sudden pain in her chest.

"Good," Ruby said, nodding her approval. "So now that's settled, would you like some honey in your tea, dear?"

*

"And now ye're going to ride 'er."

Charlie patted the docile mare she held steady by the reins. Meera stood a safe distance away, wondering what in hell she'd gotten herself into. When she'd told Charlie that she'd like to see the stables, she only meant toseethe horses. Not touch them or get on top of them.

Her misgivings must have shown on her face, because Charlie laughed.

"She's very gentle. She won' hurt ye. Come 'ere."

Charlie reached out to grab her arm, but Meera moved back. "I'm completely fine with standing on my own two feet. Besides, I don't want that poor animal to carry my weight for me."

Charlie raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Cherry 'as been trained to carry the weight of a full-grown man. Ye'll be light as a feather fer 'er."

There was going to be no way out for her. Charlie was not going to let her back out of this. Meera sighed gustily.

"I won' let ye fall, Meera. Now come 'ere."

Meera gingerly placed her hand in Charlie's outstretched one. Charlie drew her close to the horse and made her pat the docile animal.

"See? She's 'armless. Just stroke 'er nice and slow."

"Like this?" Meera asked as she ran a tentative hand over the mare's brown mane. It was almost as soft as human hair and twice as thick.

Meera let out a gasp when the mare snorted and stepped to the side, sending Meera scurrying backward, straight into Charlie's chest.

Charlie let out a muffledoomphas she wrapped one hand around Meera and another around the mare's reins, attempting to steady them both.

"It's all right," Charlie crooned, though she wasn't sure whom she was speaking to now.

Meera was pressed against Charlie's side, her cheek resting against her arm. "Why did she do that? Step away from me?"

"Can' be sure why. Might be flies or even a cramp in her legs." When Meera still looked doubtful, she added, "It's not because o' ye, Meera. Don' ye worry."

Charlie reached out to take Meera's hand and slowly raised it to the horse. "See? She likes this. Jus' rub 'er down nice and slow-like."

"Now I'm goin' to lift ye up into the saddle. Put yer leg in the stirrup, like this. No, no, the other leg. Good. Now up ye go."

Meera swung one leg over to the other side and ended up astride the horse. Her skirt lifted to reveal the length of her calves. She barely noticed her state of dress and she concentrated on remaining seated on the horse.

"Charlie, aren't you going to ride with me?"

"Yeah, but only if ye take yer foot out of the stirrup."

As Meera did so, Charlie swung up behind her. She reached across Meera's waist to hold the reins securely between her fingers.

"Are ye all right?"

Meera nodded woodenly, afraid to move from her perch in case she went tumling into the hay.

"I'm gon' walk 'er real slowly. I'm holdin' on to ye. Ye won' fall."

Slowly, Charlie walked Cherry out of the stable and into the field. She could feel the starch in Meera's back and knew that she would never enjoy the ride if she remained seated like a wooden block.

"Relax, Meera. Breathe."

It was the truth that Meera had completely stopped breathing the moment she'd gotten onto the horse. She was perched at a dizzying height and the ground seemed too far away to fall without breaking a bone or two. As she tried to concentrate on breathing, Charlie's left arm encircled her waist and pulled her back against Charlie's slender form.

"Lean onto me. Get comfortable. I'll just walk 'er around the field."

Soon, Meera found herself moving to the rhythm of the horse's hoofbeats. The mare's gait was constant and Meera found a measure of comfort in that constancy.

"'Tisn't that bad, is it now?"

Charlie voice was very close.

"No. It's almost... natural to move with her. Like a dance."

Charlie chuckled. "Yea, it is something of a dance. I could trot 'er if ye want."

"Trot?"

At the click of Charlie's tongue, the mare increased its gait to a light hop. Meera's hands immediately clutched at the supporting arm around her waist. Little sounds of distress escaped her lips.

Charlie watched Meera's reaction with an indulgent smile.

"Get off that animal, Meera! Now!"

The shout had Cherry grinding to a halt and sidestepping nervously. Charlie expertly calmed the horse and patted its neck to keep it from rearing upwards. Meera frowned as she saw her sister waving frantically from the top of the hill where the house was. "Get down now!"

"Erm, Charlie, could you get me down, please?" Meera asked, sitting very still on the horse.

Charlie squinted against the sunlight at the enraged lady screaming at them. "Yer sister?"

"Yes. Just get me down please."

Charlie clutched the reins tightly. "I have another idea. Do you trust me?"

"Uh, I barely know you, Charlie!" she said breathlessly as the mare began its trot again.

Charlie's laugh tickled her hair. "Ye better hol' on tight, love. Here we go!"

She barely reined in the scream as Charlie dug her heels into the mare's flank. Cherry reared up and raced forward, her legs carrying them across the field in no time. By the time Charlie coaxed the mare to a gravel-spitting stop right in front of Anita, she looked as though she might faint. She was leaning heavily against the side of the barn, her face as pale as it could be.

Meera, still reeling from the brief spurt of adrenaline, slid off the horse with Charlie's help.

"Don't you ever," Anita said softly. "Don't you ever do anything like that again! What were you thinking?" Her voice rose as the shock cleared. "The animal could have thrown you off its back and stomped on you! Do you know how dangerous it is! I thought I raised you with some sense! That was unbelievably reckless of you Meera!"

She turned her flashing eyes to Charlie. "And you! How could you let my sister on that beast! She could have been killed!"

"Cherry 'ere is a very gentle animal. She would never do anythin' to 'urt anyone."

"You can't be sure of that!" Grabbing Meera's hand, she pulled her sister towards the house. Meera followed her sister without saying a word until they reached the back door. Only then did she pull away.

"Would you calm down, 'ka? The horse was very gentle and I was in no danger at all!"

Anita whirled on her sister. "How do you know that? Huh? How do you know that, Meera?"

"I..."

"You don't! You can't know what's going to happen to you any more than I can! Do you understand me?"

Meera frowned. "But if you're so worried about what's going to happen in the future, you won't be able to enjoy life at all! What about risks? What about doing something different?"

"Differentdoesn't have to get you killed!"

"Charlie was an expert..."

"I don't care, Meera! I don't care if the horse was gentle or if Charlie was an expert. All I care about is you and your safety. Don't you ever do that again."

"I am a grown woman! I can do anything I please."

Anita took a deep breath, reading the rebellion in her sister's eyes. "Meera, you're the only person in the world I have left. We only have each other. I don't think I can ever lose you."

"But that doesn't mean you can put me in a goddamn box! I'm not some little puppy that will be content if you fed me twice a day. I just... gods! You're so frustrating!"

"Meera..."

"No! Don't! Don't touch me. I just can't..."

Anita watched in despair as her sister ran away from her. She was sorely tempted to run after her, but she knew they both needed time to cool down. With the edge of her sleeve, she wiped the tears that had gathered in her eyes. She wished she had handled the situation differently. Shouting had never worked with Meera; she only shouted back. What had happened to her common sense? Had she left it at home?

Sighing, Anita turned back to the house. Maybe she could find someplace to clean to get her mind off matters.

*

"How long does it take to get to the city on horseback?"

Charlie looked up from where she was inspecting Cherry's hoof. "A couple hours."

"Good. Meet me in ten minutes."

"Meera, I don't think..."

"Yes, don't. Just meet me at the front gate in ten minutes."

*

Jay reached up to rub his sore neck. He had been hunched over his desk for hours now, looking over accountings of his father's financial legacy. Numbers were not his forte. His younger brother, Andrew, however, would have been delighted to deal with anything Mathematical. But Andrew wasn't the Duke. And hence, the burden didn't fall on him.

Jay shut the thick accounting books and picked up the letters lying in the ornate gold letter holder on his desk. These had arrived shortly after he'd set foot into Haydes hall that morning. The first was from his mother; he did not even pause to open it. Into the rubbish it went. The second was from Roger, asking for an urgent meeting. The rest were invitations to parties and balls that made his skin crawl with revulsion. Well, it was too late now to set up a meeting or reply to any invitation, so he stood, stretched and decided to head back to Bridgewood. It did not even occur to him to sleep in the house that was rightfully his. His only thought was of the lovely woman waiting for him in his bed at Bridgewood.

Grabbing his coat, he ordered his footman to bring around his automobile. Hopefully, it would take him to Anita before midnight.

*