Dalton’s Challenge by Penny Fairbanks

Chapter 9

Fluffy white clouds drifted across the bright blue sky, casting a bit of shade over Winnie and the rest of the group. Miss Harcourt had suggested they all take advantage of the fine day and ride around on the grounds. Everyone had eagerly agreed, including Winnie.

Now that she stood outside, however, waiting to see which tilbury she would be taking, her enthusiasm had waned. Lord and Lady Welsted had taken one, as had Winnie’s parents. Mr. Patrick had offered to drive another tilbury with Warren and Miss Harriet squeezing in beside him. That left two tilburies for the three remaining adults.

Winnie glanced over to Dalton cautiously. He bit his lip, clearly weighing the options. Despite her efforts, something pinched at Winnie’s heart. She had foolishly hoped that he would ask to ride with her, though he did not seem very keen on that idea.

“You ladies can take this one and I shall drive by myself,” he finally suggested. “Fear not, Miss Thirley. Our Caroline is a good enough driver.” He smiled down at Winnie, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes as it usually did.

Just as Winnie nodded her acceptance of the plan, Miss Harcourt cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow at her brother. She looked so stern that anyone else would have guessed her to be the older sibling based on her demeanor.

“As a matter of fact, I do not wish to scar my dear friend with my less than desirable driving abilities.” The younger woman lifted her chin into the air, seeming almost proud of her claim. “You see, Miss Thirley, all the love for horses seems to have skipped over me and gone straight to Harriet. I enjoy carriage rides, but driving only makes me nervous, even at home. And do not get me started on sidesaddle.”

Dalton clicked his tongue, an unusual flash of annoyance crossing his face for the briefest moment. “Then are you suggesting Miss Thirley drive herself? That is hardly appropriate for our guest.”

Miss Harcourt smiled, her eyes narrowing as her plan came to fruition. “Certainly not. I think you and Miss Thirley should ride together while I drive myself. I daresay I will feel more comfortable knowing that I am the only one at risk of suffering from any mistakes I make while driving. I would be terribly nervous that something will go wrong while Miss Thirley is beside me.”

Her intentions became clear to both Winnie and Dalton at the same time. They exchanged a rueful glance, Dalton’s lips pressed together in a tight line. “I suppose that will work,” he agreed, his reluctant tone sending another strange dagger through Winnie’s chest.

“Excellent!” Miss Harcourt cheered, immediately jumping into her tilbury with the help of a groom. With the reins in her hands, Miss Harcourt tapped the horses into a trot, quickly closing the distance between herself and the rest of their group.

“Shall we?” Dalton asked, holding his hand out to Winnie. He watched her with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something Winnie did not like.

Winnie could only nod, taking his hand as lightly as she could. Still, even the lightest touch sent her heart into a dizzying frenzy. She pulled her hand away from his as quickly as possible, sitting right against the edge of the seat, already too narrow for comfort.

Dalton sat beside her, taking the reins without another word. The pair of horses pulled them along at a meandering pace. Despite his obvious discomfort around Winnie, Dalton did not seem to be in a rush to catch up with everyone else, to cushion himself in the shelter of company.

For all intents and purposes, Winnie and Dalton were quite alone. No one would hear their conversations or notice their shy glances. Not that Winnie expected any of that to happen now.

Ever since their trip out to the paddock with Miss Harriet, Dalton had been different around her—even less amiable than he had been before they had agreed to leave their past behind and become friends.

He had been stiff and quiet around her, which was already unusual enough for such a bright, lively man. Winnie wondered if she had overstepped by trying to offer a suggestion for Dalton’s farmer problem. She had thought that friends helped each other with their issues, providing advice and working together toward solutions. Or perhaps they were still too early in their friendship for that.

“Such a lovely day, is it not?” Winnie finally ventured. For once, she found this silence distressing.

“Very lovely indeed,” Dalton agreed, smiling down at Winnie. He looked a little warmer, the lovely late summer sunlight making everything about him golden.

“I had no idea Miss Harcourt did not like driving,” Winnie continued, suddenly desperate to keep the conversation flowing, to keep hearing his voice, to return to the familiarity they had enjoyed for such a brief moment in time.

Dalton chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “Caroline is very particular about her ladylike accomplishments. She must be proficient in everything, even the things she does not enjoy, like driving or riding sidesaddle. Never say this within earshot of her unless you want a good scolding, but it is a matter of pride for my dear sister.”

Winne could not help laughing. “Yes, is it not strange how those with the most pride are least willing to admit it? Still, Miss Harcourt manages her pride wonderfully. She has much to be proud of, yet she is not arrogant—most of the time.”

The gentleman raised his brows with a knowing smile. “Not that you have seen. Caroline is usually very well-behaved around company. You know, I am sure you could start calling her Caroline if you asked,” he suggested quietly, something straining in his voice.

Winnie nearly blushed, wondering at his implication. Though she and Dalton now called each other by their Christian names, she had yet to reach that level of familiarity with his younger sister, nor his older sister before she had returned to her own home.

She knew it was rather strange that she felt more comfortable at the thought of using Dalton’s given name than using Miss Harcourt’s. As she pondered his words, Winnie guiltily admitted to herself that she enjoyed the closeness it afforded them. It marked her as special, to be able to call him Dalton and hear him call her Winnie. She still marveled at her transformation. She would have thought it a miracle to be able to tolerate her once sworn enemy. Now, she found herself wanting to be special to him. The idea felt both utterly bizarre yet natural at the same time.

“Yes, you are right. I shall ask her at the very next opportunity,” Winnie mumbled, praying that she did not sound as disappointed as she felt. “Ah, have you had any news from Mrs. Waynford? Did they have a comfortable trip home?”

“Yes, I had a letter from her just yesterday. They are just about settled back in. Goodness, I wish they could continue to live at Attwood Manor,” he sighed wistfully. “I do miss little Beth very much. As well as Anna and Noah, I suppose.”

Winnie shook her head with an amused smile. Dalton truly did adore his niece. Luckily, his beloved older sister and brother-in-law had accepted their demotion with grace. They all knew, of course, that Dalton still loved them—even if Miss Waynford had him wrapped around her finger.

“Will you visit them at Shambrook Lodge?” Winnie asked.

“I am sure I will. Perhaps after…” Dalton drifted off, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Yes, of course.”

Winnie turned away, looking out at the fields and hills surrounding them. The Thirleys’ eventual departure remained an untouchable subject. The summer would not last forever, even if Winnie would not mind it. No dates had been set in stone yet, at least none that her parents had cared to share with her. Time still slipped by, bringing them closer to the day Winnie had once dreamed of—the day she would leave Attwood Manor and the troublesome Mr. Harcourt behind, hopefully for good.

“Perhaps,” Dalton started with a light cough. When Winnie glanced at him, she noticed a rosy blush creeping up the back of his neck, inspiring her own cheeks to grow hot. Her stomach flipped and her heart buzzed, wondering what he would say next, what he could possibly say that would replace his normal confidence with this terribly endearing shyness.

He took a deep breath as if to gather himself before continuing. “Perhaps we will cross paths there. I am sure Anna will invite you to stay. She has become very fond of you.”

Winnie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. He certainly sounded intrigued by the idea of seeing Winnie in the future. Perhaps he even longed for it.

“That would be lovely indeed,” Winnie agreed quietly. “We do seem to have a habit of crossing paths, even when we do not want to. I hope the habit will not be changed now that we do want to.”

Dalton laughed, his shoulders shaking, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes. “What miraculous progress we have made, Winnie!”

The uncomfortable air between them finally dissipated. Winnie relaxed, allowing herself to lean back into the seat, no longer worried about drifting a little closer to Dalton every time she adjusted herself. He seemed not to mind either, his smile growing wider and his laugh growing louder as they chatted and joked.

He kept his gaze forward most of the time, staring out past the horses to the other carriages ahead, following behind them at their own easy pace. This gave Winnie plenty of opportunity to watch him from beneath her bonnet. There could be no denying that Dalton had a strong yet kind profile, as handsome as any Winnie had ever seen. She had once thought that she despised his attractive features. She knew better now.

Winnie had always seen something lovely in him. She had seen the warmth and joy in his eyes on that day during their carriage ride in Hyde Park. It had made her nervous to see someone so at ease with himself and his world, though she had not realized it at the time. She thought him foolish for his carefree nature, especially as a future baron. Until recently, it had been impossible for Winnie to believe that someone could maintain a lighthearted attitude while managing their responsibilities. Somehow, Dalton had proved her wrong.

“Enjoying the view?” Dalton asked with that frustratingly handsome half-smile, watching Winnie from the corner of his eye.

Winnie knew she should be mortified at having been caught staring, yet it did not bother her at all. She huffed, facing forward and tossing her head back. “As a matter of fact, you are blocking the view. I was trying to see the rock garden beyond you but you are very much in the way.”

The gentleman grinned. “I am afraid I do not believe you.”

Winnie lifted an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying the banter they had developed—or rather, transformed. Their arguing had turned playful and teasing instead of heated and harsh. It felt so lovely, so freeing, to jest like this with her guard of perfection set aside.

“Do not flatter yourself, Dalton,” she said, adopting a snooty tone. “It is not a very handsome look.”

“Ah, so you do think me at least somewhat handsome, then?” he retorted slyly.

Winnie stifled her giggle behind her hand. “I said nothing of the sort, sir.”

“Perhaps I can change your mind about that as well,” Dalton mumbled, his expression suddenly serious.

Another blush spread across Winnie’s face. “Make no mistake, Mr. Harcourt. You may have changed my mind about our friendship, but I am afraid that my stubborn nature is not so easily banished.”

Dalton looked down at Winnie, his eyes shining with an unexpected admiration. “I can certainly believe that. And I would not have it any other way.”

Winnie tore her gaze away, her heart hammering in her chest. “You only say that because I am kinder to you now,” she chuckled forcefully, desperate to regain control over her swirling emotions.

“I mean it, Winnie. I used to find your stubborn streak unbearable, if I may be frank.”

“Well, seeing as you have already been frank, I suppose I shall allow you to continue.” Winnie gave a bemused smile. She did enjoy this, much more than she would have ever suspected.

“But now that I know you better, I find that I admire your conviction and determination—now that it is not directed at hating me, of course,” he added quickly, a hint of humor in his voice. “You simply want to be the best possible version of yourself, to satisfy those around you. You do not compromise your standards for anyone, even when a foolish man like me misunderstands you and gossips about it.”

“Dalton, that is all in the past now,” Winnie hurried. “I misunderstood you, too, and held a grudge against you for two years instead of accepting your apologies.”

“Well, I am glad you did eventually.” He smiled as he stared ahead, that tinge of red returning to the back of his neck. “And it only took you spending a summer in my home to accomplish it.”

“Not the whole summer,” Winnie teased. “Only half of it. And now we shall be the best of friends for all time.”

“That would be lovely,” Dalton whispered, growing serious once more.

“May I ask you something?” The question slipped past Winnie’s lips before she realized what she was saying.

“Anything,” Dalton answered immediately. Winnie knew that he truly meant it.

Panic flooded Winnie’s veins as the question formed in her mind. She should not ask it. She should think of something else, something safe and pleasant.

“Winnie?” the man prodded gently, leaning slightly into her side.

“Did I upset you the other day? When I said I had an idea for Mr. Mathis’s situation, I mean?” she blurted, shock washing over her at her own boldness. She never lost control of herself like this. She had always carefully calculated what to say and when. Why must that skill abandon her now?

To Winnie’s dismay, Dalton went stiff beside her. He sat up so rigidly that she felt a cool breeze drift through the new space created between them.

“No, certainly not,” he replied with too much cheer.

Winnie nodded, though she did not believe his answer. “I had just hoped to share my idea with you first before bringing it his lordship.”

He remained silent for a moment, prompting Winnie to sneak a glance at him. His jaw had gone tight, his brows pulled together in annoyance.

Winnie’s heart plummeted, even as he composed himself with a lighthearted laugh. “I am afraid I simply do not care about those matters, Winnie. I am determined not to until I wear the title, so there is no point in involving me.”

She knew she should not have asked in the first place. Still, Dalton’s answer did nothing to ease Winnie’s concerns. In fact, her old frustration flared up with an intensity she had not experienced in weeks. She had thought she had seen another side of him, the side that did care and did want to help. Where had it gone?

“Are you capable of being serious about anything?” she muttered, regretting the words as soon as they hit the air. “Dalton, I did not mean—”

She whirled around to face him, terrified that she had upset him further. Instead, she found Dalton staring at her with such intensity that her heart skipped a beat. He certainly looked serious now—serious about her.

Dalton shattered the moment with a nonchalant grin. “Being serious is so dreadfully dull. You know I do not care for that.” He returned his attention to the path ahead, tapping the horses into a trot, pulling them closer to the others.

His words rang in Winnie’s ears, stinging her mind and heart. No, she knew very well that he did not care for dull things. He had made that much clear two years ago after their failed attempt at a courtship.

“Is it so terrible to be serious about some things?” Winnie asked bitterly.

Dalton sighed, clearly tired of this conversation. “If you wish to be serious, that is perfectly fine. I, however, want to enjoy my life for a while longer.”

“I understand.”

Winnie stared down at her gloved hands, clasped tightly in her lap. She chided herself for forcing the conversation in this direction. They could have continued enjoying a pleasant, friendly day. Instead, she had chosen to draw attention to the silent matter that sat between them, keeping them apart no matter how much closer they became.

“I am not sure you do, Winnie,” Dalton mumbled. “Nor do I expect you to. This is my life, and I must manage it how I see fit.”

“Yes, of course. I apologize for overstepping. You see? My stubbornness never disappears for long.” She did not try to hide the frustration in her voice, even when Dalton looked down at her with concern brimming in his eyes.

“No, forgive me,” Dalton pleaded. “I know you have the best intentions.”

“I shall not accept your apology until you accept mine,” Winnie teased with a faltering smile.

“Apology accepted.” The gentleman gave a firm nod, returning to his relaxed demeanor—almost. Winnie could read him well enough by now to see the tightness around his eyes and the twitching at the corner of his mouth that betrayed the frown within his smile.

“Then I accept your apology as well.” Winnie sat up straighter, pulling her shoulders back, trying to force her melancholy mood away. It had done her no good to meddle where she was not wanted. Dwelling on this argument would certainly not help.

Even as they resumed their casual conversation, the previous topic and Dalton’s reaction did not easily leave Winnie’s mind. Try as she might, Winnie could not help wondering if she had gotten Dalton wrong after all.

She had been so sure after the festival that there existed a reliable man within Dalton’s untroubled nature. She had seen a depth to him that intrigued her. Yet he had denied it all today.

Winnie felt a certainty deep in her chest that told her Dalton hid something from her. She longed to discover it, to help him with it.

She could not do that unless he allowed her in. All this time, Winnie had thought that it had been her walls preventing Dalton from coming closer to her.

Clearly, Dalton had walls of his own.