Chapter 4

A week of lessons had changed everything.

Caspian sat on Tempest like he'd been born to it. The navy riding jacket fit him like a second skin, and he'd learned to move with the horse instead of fighting the rhythm.

"Ready for the next jump?" I called out.

He nodded, gathering the reins. Tempest responded immediately, approaching the low fence with confidence. They cleared it easily, landing smooth and balanced.

He's not just learning to ride. He's learning me.

My habits. My signals. The way I wanted things done.

The sound of a car engine made both of us look toward the driveway. A silver Mercedes was pulling through the gates.

Thornton.

My stomach clenched. He never came by unannounced.

"Who's that?" Caspian asked, bringing Tempest to a halt.

"My fiancé."

Caspian's face went carefully neutral. We'd never talked about Thornton during our lessons. There'd never seemed to be a reason to.

The Mercedes parked near the stable entrance. Thornton stepped out, adjusting his suit jacket. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders.

This isn't a social call.

He walked toward us with purposeful strides, his eyes fixed on Caspian. Taking in the custom boots, the expensive breeches, the jacket that cost more than most people's cars.

"Cordelia." His voice was clipped when he reached the fence. "I wasn't expecting to find you... entertaining."

"Caspian is learning to ride," I said evenly. "Caspian, this is Thornton Ashford."

Caspian dismounted smoothly and approached the fence. "Mr. Ashford. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He extended his hand with genuine politeness. Thornton looked at it for a long moment before shaking it briefly.

"Interesting outfit," Thornton said. His smile was sharp. "That jacket... Savile Row?"

"I wouldn't know," Caspian replied honestly.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't." Thornton's eyes moved to me. "Rather generous of you, darling. Though I have to wonder about the wisdom of such... extensive gifts."

The word 'gifts' dripped with implication.

"What exactly are you suggesting, Thornton?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm simply observing." He gestured toward Caspian. "A young man in expensive clothes, riding an expensive horse, receiving expensive lessons. One might wonder what he's offering in return."

The air went very still.

Caspian's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed level. "I'm learning to ride, Mr. Ashford. Nothing more."

"Of course you are." Thornton's tone made it clear he believed nothing of the sort. "And I'm sure you're a very... dedicated student."

That's enough.

"Thornton," I said sharply. "Stop."

"I'm simply looking out for your interests, Cordelia. You've always been too trusting."

"Too trusting of what?"

"Of people who might take advantage of your generosity." His eyes fixed on Caspian again. "People who see an opportunity and seize it."

Caspian took a step forward, and for a moment I thought he was going to say something he'd regret. Instead, he turned to me.

"Miss Beaumont, perhaps I should go."

"No." The word came out harder than I'd intended. "You should stay exactly where you are."

I turned my wheelchair to face Thornton fully. "What you're implying is insulting. To both of us."

"Is it? A poor college student suddenly wearing thousand-dollar riding gear? Spending his afternoons with the Beaumont heiress? Come on, Cordelia. Even you can't be that naive."

Naive.

The word hit like a slap. He'd used it before, usually when he disagreed with my charity work. Usually when he thought I was being too generous with people he deemed beneath us.

"You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"I think you have a kind heart that sometimes overrides your judgment."

"And what judgment is that, exactly?"

Thornton glanced at Caspian, then back at me. "The judgment to recognize when someone is using you."

The silence stretched taut. I could hear Tempest shifting restlessly, sensing the tension.

Then Caspian spoke, his voice quiet but clear.

"You're right, Mr. Ashford. I can't afford clothes like this. I can't afford a horse like Tempest. I can't afford lessons from someone like Miss Beaumont." He paused. "But I've never asked for any of it."

"No? Then why are you here?"

"Because she asked me to be."

Thornton laughed, but there was no humor in it. "How convenient."

"Get out."

Both men stared at me.

"I'm sorry?" Thornton's eyebrows rose.

"I said get out. Leave my property. Now."

"Cordelia, you're being ridiculous."

"Am I? You come onto my land, insult my guest, and question my decisions. In what world is that acceptable?"

"He's not your guest, darling. He's your project. And projects like this have a way of becoming expensive mistakes."

The words hit exactly where he'd intended them to. Because part of what he was saying was true. Caspian had been a project, at least at first.

But looking at him now - standing there with quiet dignity while my fiancé tried to tear him down - I realized something had changed.

When did this stop being about proving a point to Thornton?

"The only mistake here is thinking you have any say in how I spend my time or my money," I said. "This is my home, Thornton. My stable. My horse. My decision."

"And what happens when the novelty wears off? When you get bored with playing teacher?"

"That's not your concern."

"It is when you're going to be my wife."

The possessive way he said it made my skin crawl. Like I was another acquisition. Another project of his own.

"Right now, I'm not your wife. I'm the owner of this property, and I'm telling you to leave."

Thornton's face flushed red. "You're making a fool of yourself, Cordelia. And me, by extension."

"Then don't extend yourself. Problem solved."

For a moment I thought he might push further. Then he straightened his tie and stepped back.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when this blows up in your face."

He turned and walked back toward his car without another word. The Mercedes started with a purr and disappeared down the driveway.

The silence that followed felt heavy.

"I'm sorry," Caspian said finally.

I looked at him. He was watching me with those green eyes, and there was something in his expression I couldn't quite read.

"For what?"

"For causing problems between you and your fiancé."

"You didn't cause anything. Thornton did that all by himself."

"Still." He ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe it would be better if I stopped coming here."

No.

The thought was immediate and fierce.

"Is that what you want?"

"What I want isn't really the point, is it?"

But the way he said it told me everything I needed to know. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay.

Just like I wanted him to stay.

"Tomorrow," I said firmly. "Same time. We're not letting Thornton Ashford dictate how I spend my afternoons."

Caspian studied my face for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

But as he loaded Tempest back into the trailer and drove away, I found myself wondering what exactly I was sure about.

And why Thornton's accusations had bothered me less than the thought of not seeing Caspian again.