She hobbled around for a second, then managed to get her foot on his. A second later she was behind him on the horse.
“Put your arms around my waist.”
She slid them around him and locked her fingers together. Her wrists pressed against his stomach, which was solid and hard.
He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “Hang on, George!” And they took off like the wind.
Chapter Forty-Nine
A whisper in the silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Georgina tied a bow in the blue silk ribbon on her only nightdress, then turned around, stiffly. Her backside and the insides of her thighs felt like someone had beaten them. She had only been off that white beast of a horse for a little while and she was already sore. Tomorrow would be unbearable.
“I’ll give you a ride back to the house,” she mimicked in a snotty voice as she limped across the room. “I’d like to give him something,” she muttered and punched a fist into the palm of her hand.
But deep inside she knew what she wanted to give Eachann. And it wasn’t a good sock.
Her shoulders dropped and she just stood there, feeling sorry for herself. Try as she might to ignore him, to tell herself he was an oaf, she couldn’t ignore one thing—he fascinated her. He did so in a way that no man had.
From that first night in the garden he had made her feel all those girlish dreamlike things she had told herself she would never feel. She didn’t want to feel them, but she did.
He was a good opponent; he didn’t give an inch. She liked that about him, because she knew she was one of those people who would push an inch into a yard if given the opportunity.
She almost wished she were less moral, then perhaps she could just march into his room, seduce him passionately until she became tired of him, then she could get on with her life. Whatever that life was going to be.
She glanced around her. If this room was any indication of what her future would be, she might as well give up now. The room was so small and still smelled musty even though she’d kept the window open.
She shuffled over to close the window, but stopped and looked outside. She took a deep breath and then blew it out. Fresh air was supposed to be good for what ails you.
She leaned against the window frame and looked out. The moon was still high and no clouds had blown in to hide the stars. They were everywhere tonight.
She started to close the window and changed her mind. She looked up at the sky again. Chewed on her lowered lip for a second, then quickly picked a star and made a wish.
She slammed the window shut and felt her cheeks flush because she was embarrassed, which was as silly as her making that wish, because no one could possibly know. She was all alone.
She shuffled back over to the bed and pulled back the covers. She leaned over and turned down the lamp. She got under the covers and wiggled this way and that, trying to get comfortable in the small bed.
She punched her pillow a couple of times. She missed those down pillows she used to have, then flopped her head back down and pulled the sheet and blankets all tightly around her chin.
Then, as she closed her eyes, a handsome, grinning, and too-arrogant face swam before her. She sighed and slowly turned her lips toward her pillow, pressing her mouth to it slowly and tenderly.
A second later she screamed so loudly she woke up the swans.
Chapter Fifty
My arms around her taper waist
Her lovely form I pressed,
Her beauteous face reclining
