His gaze swept over her. “Good God, are you wearing trousers, minx?”
Rhiannon glanced down at her daring costume, which she had commissioned without Mater’s awareness, and at which her brother no doubt would have balked had he been aware of its existence.
It consisted of a jaunty purple coat worn atop a white blouse with a ribbon at the throat. Not so shocking from the waist up. But from the waist down, she wore loose Turkish trousers in a matching shade that ended at her knees, beneath which peeped embroidered stockings and her favorite pair of boots. A handsome straw hat with a purple satin ribbon completed her ensemble. The whole effect was remarkably freeing—and so much lighter than the cumbersome skirts and trains to which she was accustomed.
“It’s called a bloomer suit,” she informed him. “I have it on good authority that this costume shall be the latest craze for bicycle riding.”
“It’s criminal, is what it is.” He tossed his cheroot to the ground and stomped it with the toe of his boot. “Christ, woman. Your calves in those boots.”
“Do you like them?” She pointed her right toe, showing off the flower embroidery on the wholly impractical footwear.
The heels were too high and the leather was stiff and unforgiving, but she would be pedaling, and she had wanted to look her best for this outing with Aubrey. If she had blisters onher heels later, it would be worth every second of agony just for the look on his face—unabashed admiration.
What a powerful feeling it was to have this man’s attention.
At last.
She had only waited years. And now, finally, he was noticing her when it was almost too late. But she wouldn’t spoil the moment by thinking of that just now.
“They don’t look suited to bicycle riding,” Aubrey said, his gaze still clinging to her limbs on bold display, “but they do look suited to making any man who glimpses you in them into a ravening beast.”
“Hmm, then maybe I shall have to go back to the drawing room,” she mused lightly, tapping her chin with a gloved finger. “I do believe they were about to unleash a new game of naughty charades.”
“I think not. You’re mine for the afternoon. I’ve already claimed you.” He made an elaborate bow. “Madam, your fine steed awaits.”
He gestured toward the bicycles.
“Are you certain no one will see me where we’re riding?” she asked, thinking of the silk mask she had stuffed into her coat pocket on her approach.
Having the boundary removed was a relief and a worry in one. She had grown weary of wearing it whenever she left her chamber, but she also had no wish to be discovered. Particularly not when she had finally managed to gain what she wanted in sneaking into this house party in the first place.
“I’m as reasonably certain as I’m able to be,” he reassured her. “We have the only two bicycles at the house party, and the path I’ve chosen isn’t suited to horseback riding.”
“Where did you manage to find these, and how did you come to have the only two?”
“They’re Kingham’s. Had them hidden away in the stables. He intended to employ some manner of experimentation with them. He’s forever toying with things. I simply availed myself of them before he could begin tearing them apart.”
She raised a brow. “Do you mean to say you’ve stolen them?”
“That’s a harsh word. I’m borrowing them.”
“Does Kingham know you’re borrowing them?”
“He will when I tell him about it later,” Aubrey informed her smoothly. “Now come, the skies are growing dreary again, and if we don’t soon begin our ride, I’ll be tempted to carry you back to your bedchamber and show you the effect that blasted bloomer suit of yours is having on me.”
She grinned. “Now you tempt me. Would you truly be able to carry me the whole way, though? It’s an awful long way, and I’m no waif.”
“On the bicycle, minx,” he said, holding it out for her. “I promised you an excursion, and I think you’ll like it.”
She mounted the bicycle, pleased at the ease of doing so in her new costume. “You see? It’s ever so much better to ride when one’s limbs are freed from the tyranny of skirts.”
“I do believe I’ve demonstrated that I’m more than happy to keep you free from the tyranny of skirts,” he quipped with a wicked grin.
A flush stole over her cheeks. Yes, he most certainly had. And she had fallen a little more in love with him, one kiss, touch, and forbidden pleasure at a time.
“You have indeed,” she acknowledged. “I may require another demonstration this evening, however, just to refresh my memory.”
He laughed as he swung a leg over his own bicycle, seating himself. “Saucy baggage. Follow me.”
