Page 4 of The Marquess’s Forbidden Bride

As she rode through the gates, she spotted him just inside. Despite cautioning herself to keep her feelings in check, as he saw her and gave her one of those brilliant smiles, Emma felt a rush of excitement…accompanied by an unwelcome undercurrent of attraction.

She’d felt the shock of contact when she placed her hand on his arm last night, a shock she was pretty sure had been mutual. But as neither of them were interested in marriage—the only avenue that would permit her to experience intimacy—she must leave pursuing that sensual attraction to the dashing matrons.

Would she be daring enough to allow him a kiss, though, if they found themselves in an appropriate location and he seemed to desire it? At the prospect, she felt her lips tingle and a curious warmth uncurl in her belly.

A little shocked at the unexpected direction of her thoughts, she put a hand to her lips to quell the feeling. Despite the impropriety of it, the idea of kissing Lieutenant Marsden was all too appealing.

As he rode over, she told herself to stop being such a looby. She’d acquaint him with the park, look forward to some interesting chats over dinner and a few dances and that was all.

‘Good morning, Miss Wellingford,’ he said as he reined in beside her. ‘You show yourself unusual again.’

‘Unusual?’ she echoed. ‘In what way? Riding side-saddle is growing more common and I’m wearing a very conventional habit.’

‘Ah, but you are almost five minutes early! More often than not, ladies arrive late.’

‘Punctuality is necessary when one grows up in a large family. Arrive late for meals in the schoolroom and there might not be much food left. What do you think of the park? Rotten Row was developed specifically for riding and driving. Its surface of bark and gravel is easy on a horse’s delicate legs—which is why it is the best location inside London for a gallop. If your mount is as eager as mine, we could have that gallop now, then walk them back on the grass path.’

‘Aeolus and I are both ready to gallop.’

‘Aeolus?’ she repeated, surprised. She wouldn’t have thought Marsden the sort to enjoy the classics. ‘Swift as the wind, is he?’

The lieutenant gave her a startled glance. ‘You are familiar with Greek mythology?’

‘Wellingford Hall has an excellent library—one of the few things my father didn’t sell off to fund his gaming. Probably because he didn’t realise how valuable some of the books are. My sister Sarah is a great reader and introduced me to many of its treasures. Not to seem judgemental, but you seem much too…energetic to have had the patience to become a scholar.’

He grinned. ‘You’re correct. But in the few times I did sit still long enough, I absorbed at least some of what my tutors were trying to instil. Among army officers, books were highly valued to help pass idle times, especially in winter quarters.’

‘The Greek myths provide enough action to hold the attention even of an adventuresome boy.’ To say nothing of sex and scandal, she added to herself silently.

‘Epic journeys, fierce battles, family squabbles, murder by mistake or design—how could a lad not become fascinated? I’m rather surprised, though, that your mother thought such stories suitable for a young maid.’

Emma grinned back. ‘By the time I was old enough to read them, my mother, who never recovered from the birth of my youngest sister, was already an invalid. My other sisters weren’t much interested in reading, but Sarah was always enterprising and adventurous. She intended to marry a soldier, the son of a neighbouring viscount, and wanted the best education she could get to equip herself to handle any circumstance. Noting my interest, she encouraged me to read, too.’

Marsden looked puzzled. ‘Isn’t her husband a marquess?’

‘The man she married is. Before Sinjin—her childhood love—returned from the army, Father’s gambling losses had left the estate in such a perilous financial position, she was compelled to marry to save it. As the man who wanted to wed her was quite an unsavoury type, we were all much relieved when she wed Englemere instead. They began as good friends, but now are quite devoted.’

‘Yes, I could see that.’

‘And you mustn’t feel sorry for her soldier lover. He wasn’t best pleased to return and find her married, of course. But he ended up wedding her best friend, a red-haired Beauty of fire and spirit. They are all four reconciled now.’

‘A happy ending, then.’

‘Yes. Would that we all were so lucky in love. Well, it’s not the Odyssey, but it’s as much of a journey as we’ll be offered today. Shall we have that gallop?’

‘Lead on.’

As she was already thoroughly enjoying the excursion, a good gallop would only add to the delight. With a stir of anticipation, she signalled her mare to a start.

Ah, the speed, the rush of air, the heady sense of flying over ground, for a few moments soaring like a bird! This, here, galloping ventre à terre, provided one of the few occasions when she felt truly free. No obligations, no worries about the future, just the exhilaration of the moment.

Not until the mare began to tire did she reluctantly slow her mount. She was rubbing the mare’s neck, telling her what an excellent lady she was, when Marsden pulled up beside her.

‘You ride exceptionally well,’ he observed. ‘I don’t know too many females who could keep their seat for such a wild gallop.’

‘Thank you, though I don’t believe I am that exceptional. Not for a female who enjoys riding. Do you have any sisters?’ When he shook his head, she said, ‘So you had no opportunity to observe girls on horseback while growing up. Aside from your mother, who I conclude prefers to travel by carriage, your only experience of females riding was with the army? Though I imagine many women walked as their means of transport.’

‘Very true. Most of those who rode used mules rather than horses. The beasts are sturdier and more suitable for carrying burdens. A few of the officers’ wives kept horses, but they were not common. It was too difficult to keep a horse fed and cared for to bring along one that didn’t serve in battle. And a soldier’s mount trained for war is generally not gentle enough to make for a comfortable lady’s ride.’