Page 172 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“Would you let me take you to the bay? Ride with me there?”

He knelt in front of her.

“I do not ride, and I have no horse,” she said, a strange sensation stirring inside her.

“Do you trust me?” He stood again, stretching out his hand to her. She took it and rose to her feet, their hands locked.

He whistled, and the horse approached.

“Shall we?” he asked, and she smiled nervously.

“Yes!” At that moment, she was ready to go anywhere with him.

Chapter 19

Darcy took her in his arms and, before she had time to blink, he had lifted her up into the saddle. She gasped and gripped the horse’s mane. The stallion stood still, awaiting his master.

A small squeak escaped her when the horse moved, then she felt Darcy pull himself into the saddle behind her. His arms closed around her, and her hands slipped around his waist.

“Do not worry, I have you,” he whispered.

Elizabeth allowed her eyes to become enchanted by the night sky, feeling safe in his embrace. From his arms, the view looked larger, more stunning, more beautiful. It was like she could touch the stars.

Darcy urged the horse on, and she tightened her hold on his waist.

He led the horse along the line of trees, then towards the water. Thunder broke into a trot, splashing the salty water onto Elizabeth’s face. The feeling was exquisite, and Elizabeth closed her eyes, leaning her head against Darcy’s chest.

“Will you not open your eyes, Elizabeth?”

She quivered at the sound of her name on his lips, withdrawing enough to look at him.

The horse ran through the water, like he was stepping on the stars. Elizabeth turned to look ahead. Slowly, she let go of his waist. Her thigh was pressing against Darcy’s leg, and his arms provided her with enough support. She did trust him, so she freed her hands and placed them over his, around her. With delight and astonishment, she felt his fingers entwining with hers.

“Should we ride faster?” She nodded, and he spurred the horse on. Immediately, the trot turned into a gallop. There was no fear, no restraint remaining in her heart, only pure joy and her trust in him.

Before she realised, they had reached the bay. But they did not stop. The horse carried them onwards, through the water, along the shore, into the darkness.

Eventually, Darcy slowed the stallion, allowing him to walk, to rest.

Elizabeth turned to him; his dark stare penetrated her soul, and his embrace made her dizzy. She looked at him, waiting.

He hesitated, then his head leant towards her, slowly. Mesmerised, she closed her eyes and felt his breath on her face. Her heart stopped, still waiting. After an unbearably long moment, his lips brushed over hers, as gentle and as soft as the touch of a feather. Tender kisses tantalised her face, then found their way back to her lips and lingered there.

“Should we return?” he asked.

She nodded. “We should.”

“Do you trust me?”

She looked at him in puzzlement. “You know I do. Could there be any more proof of my faith in you than my being here?” she teased back, flushed.

“Very well.”

With the deepest shock, she felt him pulling up her gown and petticoat.

She frowned and stared at his strange smile as he lifted her right leg over the saddle, placing her astride. She was now turned with her back to him, her legs uncovered to her knees. She felt embarrassed, alarmed, but at once lively and excited as she understood his meaning.

“Take the reins,” he whispered over her shoulder, his lips brushing her earlobe.