“Marcus!”
His laughter filled the coach. “I see that it is fortunate that I have the skills for both of us.”
Confused and not a little intrigued by his banter, she moved her gaze to the window, but her thoughts were not on the scenery. Ruefully, she recognized that he had reverted to the man she used to know, and instead of being excited by that, she’d been uncomfortable. When he used to steal kisses from him, she never wanted them to end. She still didn’t, even though where he had kissed her was shocking. She still felt loved, almost worshipped. It was strange to feel so lost and without control while at the same time enjoying the pleasure of his mouth.
“Mariel?” His voice was soft.
She turned to face him. “Yes?”
“You know I would never hurt you.”
But he would. He would destroy her heart when he was released from their betrothal and married another. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He leaned forward and took her gloved hand. “I mean that physically, I will only bring you joy, never pain.” His gray eyes shone almost silver with their intensity as if he willed her to understand something she didn’t.
Hesitantly, she nodded.
His face relaxed and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Good, because I want you to know all there is to pl—love.”
Her heart warmed at his words. “I know so much already.”
He let go of her hand and sat back, his smile gone though he continued to look at her. “No, you don’t.” He studied her as if looking for something, then seemed to come to a decision. “But I will teach you.”
If he had said so with a smile, she’d know he teased, but Marcus made the pronouncement as if were as important as a new bill set before parliament. She wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that, but any time she may have hoped to contemplate his meaning, was lost as the coach came to a stop.
“We are here.”
“Here?” She took a moment to look out the coach window. Here appeared to be the country, but they had not ridden so far, had they?
Marcus alighted from the coach as his footman held the door open. “You will see much more out here.” He held his hand out for her to take.
“Do you think so?” She let her voice drip with sarcasm before taking his hand.
He raised one brow at her quip, but didn’t respond. Instead, he placed her hand on his arm and led her toward a very large structure that appeared to be stables but was almost the length of St. Paul’s cathedral.
As they approached, a young man of maybe a score strode toward them, a large smile on his face. He looked vaguely familiar, but since she had no idea where they were, she couldn’t possibly know him.
“Lord Blackmore. It is an honor to have you visit Clancy Stables.” The man’s green eyes danced with pleasure as he turned to greet her. “Lady Mariel. It has been so long, I imagine you don’t recognize me.”
She blinked. Recognize him? She started to shake her head when he spoke again.
“Do you not remember me, Lady Mariel? I so loved the honey cakes you brought me at Ravenridge.”
At the sound of his words spoken in a high-pitched child’s voice, she widened her eyes. “Tiery Clancy? Can it be?”
The young man laughed, the sound much like his grandfather’s back at Ravenridge. “Aye, it’s me, just a bit older. I’ll be a full score in three more years.”
Little Tiernan Clancy had been eight years old the last time she saw him. His father had moved the family closer to London by the following year. She thought it had something to do with racing horses. Suddenly Tiernan’s welcome made sense. She gestured with her free hand toward the massive building. “Is this yours?”
He laughed again and a faint blush rose in his cheeks. “No, my lady. It’s my father and uncle’s. I just oversee the training.”
“Is your father about?”
At Marcus’ question, Tiernan shook his head. “He will be terribly sorry he missed you. I hope I will do as a guide.”
“That’s perfectly fine.”
She looked up at Marcus. “There’s training done here?”
