Chapter 5
William could scarcely believe the sight that greeted him. Olivia clad in little more than tan trousers and a white shirt, sitting astride a grey mare. She shot him a sly grin then turned to say something to the stable-master. What the Duce was she up to?
More importantly, why the devil did his body react so fiercely to the sight of her? His gaze trailed the length of her from her flowing hair to her boot-clad feet, then traveling back up to stop for another look at the place where her trousers hugged her hips and thighs.
Bedding her would be his pleasure. Of that, he had no doubt.
He tore his gaze from her sharply legs and strode into the stable where he mounted his own horse. The tightness in his own trousers making the task rather unpleasant. The wench was torturing him, but it would be short-lived torture to be sure.
When he emerged from the stables, he brought his mount close to hers. In a low voice, he asked, “Where is your riding habit?”
“I prefer trousers.” She gave a mischievous smile.
He studied her for a moment. No doubt she was playing a game. Her posture did not appear confident, and he’d noticed a quick flash of unease in her amber eyes. He should call her out. Demand she changes into proper attire and has her saddle replaced.
William narrowed his eyes, debating his next move. Perhaps it would be best to let her have her fun. He gave a wicked smile, then said, “Very well.”
He relished the blush that crept over her cheeks as he unabashedly raked his gaze over her. The sight of her bottom in those tight fitting trousers and her bosom barely contained beneath the flimsy shirt would make his silence on the mater worth his while. Meeting her eyes, he asked, “Shall we?”
“Indeed,” Olivia smiled, then nudged her horse.
William lagged behind, taking a moment to enjoy the delectable display of her bottom bouncing in the saddle, then set his horse into motion. Before long, he rode beside her at a slow gate. When they reached the open field beyond the pasture, he turned to her. “Do you often ride astride?”
Olivia hesitated for a moment then notched her chin up. “Every chance I get.”
“Interesting as you do not appear confident in your saddle.”
Her cheeks flushed. “It is only that you make me nervous, Your Grace.”
He could almost hear the lie in her voice. Rather than take her to task for her deception, he’d have his own fun. “Then let us increase our pace,” he challenged.
Kicking his stallion into a gallop, he glanced back at her. Did she have enough steel in her to accept his challenge? He’d wager that she did for she’d already proven herself brave if not foolish by dressing and riding as she was.
Olivia nibbled at her lower lip as she readjusted her reins, and for a moment he thought she may disappoint him.
But then, she was galloping beside him. Her chestnut hair waving in the wind, its coper highlights glistening in the sunlight. Her beauty struck him, but it was the deep look of concentration etched onto her face that truly captured his attention. She may be playacting, but she was determined to see it through. A quality he most certainly admired and hoped would carry over into their marriage.
He should be appalled at her lack of feminine behavior, but William would wager she was acting out for his benefit. He knew her to be a wallflower, not a hoyden. Surely if she acted in such a way on a regular bases, word of her scandalous ways would have reached him.
Lady Olivia had one aim in mind—to dissuade him. He’d bet his dukedom on that assumption—and he’d no doubt win. Unfortunately for his intended, he found her all the more interesting for her escapade. Her antics showed him that she was more than a shy bit of fluff, and now he wished to know her better.
A pond came into view, and William slowed his pace until his mount was walking beside Olivia’s. Her chest rose and fell as she took in breaths, and her cheeks were rosy from the exertion of their ride. He wanted to reach out and brush the tendrils of coppery brown hair that had come loose and now framed her heart-shaped face.
“That was exhilarating,” she grinned at him, her eyes sparkling.
He patted his horse’s shoulder. “Do you not often gallop?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said.
A pity, he thought, for she looked lovely doing so. Wanton and wild, just as he imagined she’d look riding him. The thought took him by surprise as he’d had no notions that he’d find himself attracted to her. He certainly hadn’t been as a child. The prospect of their marriage became more pleasing by the minute.
He nodded toward the pond they were approaching. “We should stop and allow the horses to drink.”
She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and glanced at the pond.
He studied her wondering at her hesitation, then said, “Some cool water will benefit them after being ridden so hard.”
Olivia turned back to him and gave a nod.
