He spread himself over the horse’s back facing away from them. Which meant—oh dear heavens—his arse was a work of art. And it was right there, flexing deliciously while he patted the horse’s light-gray marbled neck. Right there for her perusal. Taut and tight as he turned to pat the beast’s hindquarters. Well, she was anything but cold, now.
“He is easing her into it,” Mr. Barrow explained. “Making sure she knows he’s there. You don’t want a horse to spook at any sudden movement or noise. You want her to be comfortable and not forgettin’ you’re on her back. So, he’s getting her used to his presence, his weight, the feel of him on her.”
Oh dear. She was even warmer now. She knew the stable master’s words held no innuendo, but her body couldn’t help but want the Duke to do the same to her, especially considering the current view. First, hand railings and now rehabilitating horses. Yes, she was cracked in the head. Her lust for the Duke apparently knew no bounds.
“Are you ogling my father’s bottom?” Lady Pandora asked, a dimple popping in the girl’s cheek.
Mr. Foster let out a choked noise, and Felicity nearly squeaked but managed a smile with heated cheeks instead. It wasn’t even forced because Lady Pandora looked so impish Felicity couldn’t help but laugh.
“I wouldn’t say I’m ogling his bottom. It just happens to be front and center at the moment.”
Mr. Barrow chuckled next to her and murmured under his breath, “Oh, Lady Pandora.”
It was true, the girl didn’t know when her thoughts were better kept to herself. Felicity found it adorable. It reminded her of home.
“Well, yes. But when I look at Papa’s bum, I am not looking at it likethat.”
Felicity snorted. Like that thought right there.
“I surely hope not,” Felicity jested, catching Lady Pandora’s eye.
“Aha! So, you are ogling his bum! It must remind you of Colborn’s bum.”
Mr. Barrow barked out a laugh, and Felicity’s frame shook with her own suppressed laughter. Oh, the dear girl. Utterly unrestrained. Felicity brought her fingers to her lips, fighting the grin determined to break free. Oh goodness, the poor farrier was as red as a beet.
“Yes, something like that,” Felicity murmured.
The Duke’s arse was similar to Colborn’s, yet Colborn’s inspired nothing in her. Whereas the man before her… His arse had her insides doing all sorts of crazy things, desperate, needy things. Odd that. Two similar arses, but two completely different responses. She hadn’t once felt overcome by any emotion other than annoyance with Colborn. Nothing like whatever had passed between her and the Duke back in the breakfast room.
His Grace repeated his process from the other side of the horse. His new position didn’t allow for any arse ogling, but his strong jaw, the muscles rippling in his arms as he stretched over the horse, were equally worthy of admiration.
The group’s laughter subsided and silence settled over them, all lost in watching man and horse communicate, the Duke’s soft words traveling over to them. “That’s right sweetheart, I’m right here.” He ran his hands over her neck. “Good girl. Look at you. Such a good girl.”
His words melted over Felicity, and the heat came rushing back, her stomach doing a silly, fluttery dance. He swung up into the saddle, continuing his endearments and coasting his hands over the mare. Felicity was nowveryjealous of the horse.
“Atta girl. See, nothing to fear here. We’ll go nice and slow for your first time, sweetheart.” He turned and patted her hindquarters as the mare danced under him. “Just get you used to having me on you,” he cooed.
Oh, heavens. Yes, please. Felicity almost raised her hand and asked if she could go next.
“Before you know it, we’ll be going for long, hard rides, and you’ll love every minute of it, darling.”
Kill me. Just kill me, please.
“So, what will he do now that he’s in the saddle?” she asked, desperate for distraction. Bloody hell, her voice had come out all tight and strangled—affected. She cleared her throat. “Will he take her out for a ride?”
Mr. Barrow shook his head. “No, he won’t do much more with her. She’s doing well with him, and he’ll want to end on a good note, so she gets rewarded. He might walk her around the arena a time or two. But he won’t want to push his luck.”
She had known he rehabilitated horses but had never witnessed it firsthand. It was wondrous to see. He was so calm, so gentle. It seemed like such a small achievement—sitting in the saddle for a few brief minutes.
To think he had worked with this horse for a month already to get to this point. She was so used to men of the ton and their impatience, their demand for instant gratification. This man knew the value of unwavering patience…the rewards of persistent effort. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have the attention of such a man. Have all that persistent effort directed toward her.
Much different than the future that awaited her with Colborn.
The Duke walked the mare slowly around the arena, reins loose, still cooing his soft words. What kind of man, what kind ofduke, worked with mistreated horses? And simply because he wanted to. The damned fluttering returned.
And that was when it happened.
The mare shied, her body jerking out from under the Duke, his body swinging in the opposite direction. And Felicity swore her heart swooped out of her chest just as violently. He instantly corrected, re-seating himself. She relaxed.
