ears, watching them twitching back and forth, her creamy mane rippling on the light wind.
If only it was Shareb-er-rehh I had with me, not some common mare . . . if only I had Shareb-er-rehh. . . .
But he didn’t have Shareb-er-rehh.
Ari did—and she already had a good head-start on him.
He thought again of Clive’s slow, saturnine smile of evil and foreboding, and urged the mare faster, into a canter.
He had to stop her.
But the rolling, triple-timed beat of the mare’s hoofbeats made those final words even louder.
Will be your last . . . .
CHAPTER 4
Her Ladyship managed to harness her own horse with surprising skill, and Colin didn’t know which of the two nobles—the girl, or her equally high-bred nag—seemed more put out by the procedure. It was all he could do not to chuckle with mirth when he directed her to free the stallion’s tail-hairs from the crupper, an action that made her cheeks go pink with embarrassment and Shareb-er-rehh’s head to jerk up with indignation.
Finishing, she turned, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at him with haughty triumph.
“Satisfied, Mr. Lord?”
He eyed her long and hard, until her composure began to falter. “Should I be?”
“Indeed you should. I have finished harnessing him.”
He grinned and held out the driving bridle to her. “No, you haven’t.”
Her mouth tightening, she snatched the bridle and turned her back on him. Suspecting a conspiracy, Shareb-er-rehh eyed it with malice, backed up, and reared. Colin instinctively moved forward, but Lady Ariadne brought the stallion down with a quick yank on the reins.
Gripping the bridle’s cheekpiece, she put her face as close as she could to the horse’s blinkered head and stared into his dark eye. “I don’t like this any more than you do!” she hissed, but in a voice that was clearly intended for Colin to hear. “Now, be good and stop your fussing!”
Instantly the big beast quieted, albeit with a surly look in his eye that belied his seemingly good manners. Then his mistress reached up, deftly removed the hood and bridle, and gave Colin his first full view of the stallion’s face.
His breath caught in his throat. The head was beautiful, classically sculpted, broad across the forehead with a white blaze starting just between the dark, intelligent eyes and widening as it spilled downward so that it encompassed nearly all of the horse’s muzzle.
“Handsome animal,” he said, stretching his hand toward the stallion.
Shareb-er-rehh lashed out and nearly amputated his fingers.
“Loves compliments, doesn’t he?”
“He loves his dignity even more.”
“Yes, I’m sure he does. But he’ll have to make do without it until we get to Norfolk. Please proceed.”
“I have never been treated so insultingly in my life.”
“And I’ve never had the liberty of having my horse harnessed and bridled for me. I find I rather like it.”
She shot him a murderous glare, hooked an arm around the stallion’s poll and gently coaxed the bit into his mouth. Shareb-er-rehh stood chomping the metal, working it between teeth and tongue and eyeing Colin with as much malevolence as did his mistress, but otherwise making no further protest as she pulled the bridle into place. Her tiny fingers buckled the throatlatch, pulled the stallion’s forelock free from the browband, ensured the blinkers were adjusted over each eye. Then she walked briskly around the lathering animal, taking off her cap and tossing her hair over her shoulder as she swept past Colin in what could only be a deliberate attempt to tempt and taunt her human companion.
Her efforts found their mark. Colin caught the scent of lavender, and with it an engaging blend of soap, horses, and femininity. Heat flashed through him, riding a wave of desire.
She went to the stallion’s head, turned, and eyed him with feminine triumph.
“I really think that we should make an effort to get along, if this trip is to be at all pleasant,” she
If only it was Shareb-er-rehh I had with me, not some common mare . . . if only I had Shareb-er-rehh. . . .
But he didn’t have Shareb-er-rehh.
Ari did—and she already had a good head-start on him.
He thought again of Clive’s slow, saturnine smile of evil and foreboding, and urged the mare faster, into a canter.
He had to stop her.
But the rolling, triple-timed beat of the mare’s hoofbeats made those final words even louder.
Will be your last . . . .
CHAPTER 4
Her Ladyship managed to harness her own horse with surprising skill, and Colin didn’t know which of the two nobles—the girl, or her equally high-bred nag—seemed more put out by the procedure. It was all he could do not to chuckle with mirth when he directed her to free the stallion’s tail-hairs from the crupper, an action that made her cheeks go pink with embarrassment and Shareb-er-rehh’s head to jerk up with indignation.
Finishing, she turned, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at him with haughty triumph.
“Satisfied, Mr. Lord?”
He eyed her long and hard, until her composure began to falter. “Should I be?”
“Indeed you should. I have finished harnessing him.”
He grinned and held out the driving bridle to her. “No, you haven’t.”
Her mouth tightening, she snatched the bridle and turned her back on him. Suspecting a conspiracy, Shareb-er-rehh eyed it with malice, backed up, and reared. Colin instinctively moved forward, but Lady Ariadne brought the stallion down with a quick yank on the reins.
Gripping the bridle’s cheekpiece, she put her face as close as she could to the horse’s blinkered head and stared into his dark eye. “I don’t like this any more than you do!” she hissed, but in a voice that was clearly intended for Colin to hear. “Now, be good and stop your fussing!”
Instantly the big beast quieted, albeit with a surly look in his eye that belied his seemingly good manners. Then his mistress reached up, deftly removed the hood and bridle, and gave Colin his first full view of the stallion’s face.
His breath caught in his throat. The head was beautiful, classically sculpted, broad across the forehead with a white blaze starting just between the dark, intelligent eyes and widening as it spilled downward so that it encompassed nearly all of the horse’s muzzle.
“Handsome animal,” he said, stretching his hand toward the stallion.
Shareb-er-rehh lashed out and nearly amputated his fingers.
“Loves compliments, doesn’t he?”
“He loves his dignity even more.”
“Yes, I’m sure he does. But he’ll have to make do without it until we get to Norfolk. Please proceed.”
“I have never been treated so insultingly in my life.”
“And I’ve never had the liberty of having my horse harnessed and bridled for me. I find I rather like it.”
She shot him a murderous glare, hooked an arm around the stallion’s poll and gently coaxed the bit into his mouth. Shareb-er-rehh stood chomping the metal, working it between teeth and tongue and eyeing Colin with as much malevolence as did his mistress, but otherwise making no further protest as she pulled the bridle into place. Her tiny fingers buckled the throatlatch, pulled the stallion’s forelock free from the browband, ensured the blinkers were adjusted over each eye. Then she walked briskly around the lathering animal, taking off her cap and tossing her hair over her shoulder as she swept past Colin in what could only be a deliberate attempt to tempt and taunt her human companion.
Her efforts found their mark. Colin caught the scent of lavender, and with it an engaging blend of soap, horses, and femininity. Heat flashed through him, riding a wave of desire.
She went to the stallion’s head, turned, and eyed him with feminine triumph.
“I really think that we should make an effort to get along, if this trip is to be at all pleasant,” she
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