Tewky POV, Winter 1888/89
Trying to forget that she had just caught him staring at her, Tewkesbury rushed to his horse's left shoulder to help her get up. "Ok, so you need to grab her neck and the pommel, that is the front of the seat." He explained as she reached up, "Now give me your left foot, and on three, use it as a step and I will boost you, and you just need to swing your leg over." Enola tentatively lifted her small foot into the cradle he had made with his hands and nodded in approval. "Ok, one, two, three." He counted. He instantly felt her put her weight into his hands and lifted as she gracefully swung her other leg over and dropped into the saddle. Ready to follow her, he put his long leg in the stirrup, "Could you move as far forward as possible?" he asked, partly to warn her that he was coming up. She pulled herself forward using the pommel. He mounted up, trying to be as gentle to her as possible. "Walk on Daisy," he called, picking up the reins with his other hand, "Home we go."
It was difficult for him to ignore how close she was to him, sitting between his legs with his arms around her in order to hold the reins. He could smell the delicate lavender perfume she had started wearing and feel her long hair tickle his face as it blew in the wind. It would be so easy to drop the reins and wrap his arms around her as tight as possible. It all made feelings swirl in him that he usually reserved for the safety of his room. He was glad she could not see his face flushing and hoped she couldn't hear his heart beating wildly over the hoofbeats.
Unusually Enola was quiet, like she was deep in thought over something too complicated for his understanding. Wanting to forget the awkward situation he had found himself in (really, it sounded like a scene from the banned French novels his friend's had joked about), Tewkesbury started to talk at the moment his fiancée did. "How have you…" he started, classing with her "Do you always…" They laughed, breaking some of the tension. "You first." She insisted with all the authority of a very charming magistrate. "How have you got to seventeen, living in the English countryside, and have never ridden a horse?" He asked teasingly, "If you don't mind me asking." She turned around to look at his smiling face, "Mother never thought it was an important thing for me to learn." "And yet you know ji jutsu?" He chuckled, "Fighting is more important than basic transport?" He could tell Enola was rolling her eyes from behind her head. "Jiu-Jitsu, and yes that did seem to be her way," She corrected, "I think you should learn it too, who knows who might try to kill you next time." "I'll have you know I was taught to use a shotgun," He stated indignantly, "and a sword like all highborn gentlemen." "And what if a murderous thief attacks you when you have neither?" She turned around again with a look in her eyes that he just knew meant 'hmmm?' but was somehow indenably sweet below her soft eyelashes.
"You could teach me then," Tewkesbury said with a tiny wink, "for the times when I don't have you, my sword, or a gun with me for protection." "I rather approve of being considered protective." She laughed and turned back to face forward. "Now what were you saying?" he interrupted while turning the horse through a gate, "When we both spoke at once." She paused in thought for a moment, before asking, "Do you always look like a beetroot when you see a girl's knees, Viscount Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether?" A word that he had heard from the same friends flipped into his brain, that and 'caught'. He was glad she was facing forward and couldn't see his embarrassment. "Enola Holmes, future Marchioness of Basilwhether," for some reason adding extra words as she did seemed like a good idea, "A gentleman rarely sees the knees of a young lady, and even rarer the knees of his fiancée." "But you have knees?" she asked obliviously, "mine can't be all that different." Her curiosity would be the death of him. "You will keep asking until I tell you, won't you?" He sighed, resigned to his own embarrassment. She replied confused, "of course."
"A young man longs to be close to a woman, deep in his heart. He hopes for the day when he can hold her hand, kiss her cheek, and if allowed by her guardian, waltz with her." Tewkesbury started sentimentally. "If he truly loves her, he hopes for the day he can marry her and take her into his chambers." He steered the horse onto a path that would lead them home, but would take longer. "The young man is used to seeing her wearing gloves and bonnets and layers of skirts, so when he sees her in less, his mind betrays him and thinks of that night." He knew he was back to the same shade of red as he was before. "Are you saying you think about touching me?" Enola asked with just the tiniest hint of awkwardness. He chuckled nervously, "Yes, my sweet, ever since you found me at the flower markets." "You *could* touch me." She stated clearly. "Propriety – and Mother – states I shant do more than kiss your cheek until we are married." He answered back, half hoping she would fight him on it.
"Propriety would disagree with us being together without a chaperone," She placed her hand gently on his left hand, "and with the kiss you know we shared." He watched cautiously as she pried his hand from the reins and placed it on the outside of her thigh. He couldn't help himself as he rubbed small circles into the still wet fabric. "You are astonishing Enola," he smiled, "astonishing and beautiful." He carefully traced up the outside of her thigh, over the curve of her hip and across her corseted stomach, hoping she wouldn't notice his reaction to the touch. "Is it unusual for a lady to be close to a gentleman?" She asked as he held her waist possessively. "I am not privy to the thoughts of young ladies, but I would assu.." he stopped finally understanding her meaning, "Oh, no I don't think it would be." She laughed at his cluelessness, and as delicately as she could manage, relaxed back into his arms.
He could see the big house coming into view and set about finding his gentlemanly decorum for when a gardener or stable hand would no doubt spot them. "While I very much enjoy holding you like this," he confided while repositioning himself into a much more respectable manner, "Mother will have my guts for garters if she sees us." Enola sat up and placed her 'I'm the epitome of loveliness and virtue' smile on, but quipped back to Tewkesbury, "I'd like to see her try once you Jiu Jitsu." From then on she seemed quite content to stay silent for once and just watch the manicured gardens, which would one day be hers, go by, allowing Tewkesbury the time to rehearse his speech on how he could not leave his dear fiancée out in the rain on a broken bicycle.