Julianne MacLean by My Own Private Hero

brows against his sun-bronzed skin. If Adele were an artist, she would paint him as Michael, the warrior angel. She had seen a statue of Michael in Paris once, when she had spent time there with her sisters, learning to speak French. She had never forgotten it. She often dreamed about that statue.
    For some reason, she thought of Lord Alcester’s mistress at that moment, the famous actress. From what Sophia had said, the woman was very beautiful and very liberal. She enjoyed taking lovers, and by all accounts, she was just the kind of woman Lord Alcester desired. Theirs was purportedly a passionate love affair.
    It was hard for Adele to imagine any woman being so free, not worrying about duty or correct behavior. To even think about such a woman—to have any connection to her whatsoever—seemed strange for Adele, who had led an exceedingly sheltered and proper life. She didn’t even know anyone who’d had a “lover.”
    She supposed, however, that many women would forget what was proper when tempted by a man as attractive as Lord Alcester. He was like no other man she had ever met before. Everything about him was interesting and alluring—his eyes were seductive, his lips sinful. She might be innocent, but she could at least recognize that .
    “I also sent a wire to Harold,” he said, “to inform him that you’re safe, and that he can expect you in two days.”
    “I hope he’ll pass that message on to my mother. She must be worried sick.”
    “From what I understand, your mother hasbeen in London with your sister, and she’ll be traveling by train to meet us in two days. We’ll travel by coach and check into an inn this evening. We’ll tell everyone we encounter that you are my sister-in-law.” Lord Alcester tethered his horse to the post next to the trough. “And I’m pleased to say you can anticipate a hearty dinner by a warm fire this evening.”
    “I can hardly wait.”
    Lord Alcester walked to the edge of the yard. “Here comes the coach.”
    A few minutes later, it pulled up in front, and Adele limped toward it. She climbed in, pleased by the interior of the vehicle with its soft, blue upholstery. A box with a ribbon around it sat on the seat.
    Lord Alcester stood at the open door, his large, masculine hand gripping the latch. “Shoes and stockings,” he said.
    Adele picked it up and held it on her lap. “Thank you.”
    While she gazed at his handsome face in the sunlight, she felt almost entranced. In an effort to distract herself, she peered out at his horse, still tethered by the trough. “You’re lucky you get to ride.”
    “You like to ride?” he asked, sounding surprised.
    “Yes. I sold my hair when I was seven to keep my father from selling our pony when we couldn’t afford to keep her. I just couldn’t live without her, or without the freedom to explore the woods where we lived.”
    He lifted his chin, gesturing toward his own horse. “We have something in common. I’ve been leasing out my London house to keep him .”
    Adele’s eyebrows lifted.
    “Do you still have that pony you loved so much?” he asked.
    “No. She died when I was nine. I explored the woods on foot after that. Until we moved to the city, of course.”
    He hesitated at the door for a moment. “You’ll be glad to hear that Osulton is surrounded by forest, and the stable is stocked with thoroughbreds.”
    “Really? Harold didn’t mention that. I can’t wait to get there.”
    He nodded. “Signal if you need anything.”
    “I will.”
    Lord Alcester closed the door. She watched him from the window as he waved to the driver and strode toward his own horse. He swung himself up into the saddle and led the way out of the yard.
    The coach slowly turned around, and before Adele knew it, she was rocking back and forth on the seat as they made their way down the hill and back to real life. Though she wasn’t sure anything would ever be completely normal again.
     
    Osulton Manor
     
    “He found her! She’s