see you this time.”
He grabbed her hands before they could remove the red ribbon he’d tied around her head. Sitting up, he smoothed his shirt down with one hand before slipping the cloth from her eyes. “I think not.”
In fact, that was definitely not going to happen. He climbed out of bed and reached for his breeches.
She hadn’t gotten the message. She sat up and raised an arm to stroke his back. “I’m sure we won’t be missed.”
Before she could touch him, he twisted away to don his pants. “You may not be missed, but I most certainly will be.”
As expected, that did not sit well with her. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. “So, what they say is true. You use women for your enjoyment and then leave without the slightest care.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You appeared to gain some enjoyment, Lady Wilshire. I cannot imagine you expected us to form a lasting entanglement.”
Giving him her finest pout, she responded, “Not a lasting one perhaps, but I’m sure a repeat performance would be mutually satisfying.”
“Perhaps another time. For now, I require some proper nourishment.” He pulled on his boots, grabbed the remainder of his clothes, and strolled out the door.
By the time he reached the bottom of the staircase, he’d tied his cravat, straightened his cuffs, and run his fingers through his hair, assuring it was neatly arranged. Entering the dining room, he took his seat without a word. When William caught his eye, Dare raised his glass and gave him a satisfied smile. His friend chuckled and returned to his soup.
Chapter 8
The morning was overcast, but that wouldn’t deter her. Nivea had been awake for quite awhile, listening to the sounds of the men as they prepared for one of the Horsham’s favorite pursuits—hunting. Yet another passion Nivea did not share nor understand. But their absence provided her with a perfect opportunity to pursue her plan. Now that she had overcome her loathing of horses, she had decided to become a more proficient rider. She donned a riding habit she’d found buried in the back of the wardrobe and headed toward the stables.
“Why, Miss Horsham, what can I do for you?” The stable hand gaped at her in astonishment as she approached the stalls.
“I would like you to saddle a horse please. Something fairly tame, perhaps like Buttercup’s Bloom, here,” she answered, pointing to a mare even she could tell was well past her prime.
The groom scratched his head. “You want me to saddle a horse…for you?” He glanced around for another possible rider.
Nivea couldn’t fault the man for his confusion, although it did sting. Except for dragging her brother from the building, she hadn’t set foot in the stable for years. And until Dare insisted, it had been over a decade since she’d climbed on one of the beasts. But she was determined to go through with this.
“Yes. I would like you to saddle a horse. For me.”
He shrugged and did as she bid. He led a sedate Buttercup to the mounting block, and after a few attempts, managed to shove her up onto the saddle.
Wiping his brow, he looked up at her with concern. “Would you be likin’ Seth to ride with you?”
Answering with far more confidence than she felt, she said, “No, that won’t be necessary. I won’t go far.”
Turning the horse away from the house, she nudged Buttercup forward, hoping no one would spot her. She knew her father had been surprised to see her riding the other day. What she wanted now was to gain enough skill so she could join the family for a ride. They were as comfortable riding as walking and could travel for hours without complaint. She used to joke that if her father could find a way to sleep while riding, he would live on his horse.
Her aspiration was much less lofty. She would be happy if she could mount the thing with a modicum of grace, keep it from eating grass, and maybe even coax it into a trot, if necessary. Of course, if she managed to slim
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