Page 17 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

“No thank you – I prefer to ride alone – but I will appreciate information on the best way to go, to see the grounds to best advantage.”

The man looked at her askance, but did not argue.

“My Lady, are you a confident rider? Would you prefer a quieter mount, or one with more energy?”

Selina smiled, glad that things were going to plan.

“I am quite confident – I like a mount with some life – not a horse I will have to fight, but not one that is a sluggard either.”

“Very good, my Lady, I believe that we have a mare that will suit nicely. Please wait here and I’ll saddle her up and bring her out to you.”

“Thank you.”

Soon, she was mounted on a beautiful black mare, and riding out across the parkland towards a copse of trees, beyond which Woods assured her was a path which led along the river edge, winding between the trees. He had informed her that it was His Grace’s favourite place to ride, although nowhere near as pretty in winter as in the warmer parts of the year. She had laughed, and said that pretty was not necessary, but cold clear air was.

The further she went from the house, the more she relaxed – she had not slept at all well, her sleep full of arousing dreams of kisses and more, from which she kept half waking, hoping that it was time to rise. Now, out in the peace of the countryside, with no sound but the horse’s hooves crunching the icy surface of the last of yesterday’s snow, those dreams seemed even more fantastical. In fact, out here, even her memory of the meeting in the library seemed like a dream – as if such a thing could have happened to her! Yet… she wanted it to be real, was sure that it had been.

And she wanted more – wanted to meet the Duke out riding, now, to have his physical presence confirm the reality. But what if she did not meet him? What if he did not come, no matter what Mariel had told him? Again, Mariel’s words of two nights before came back to her – how would she feel if she was caught alone with him? Did she, in fact, want a scandal?

She shivered, and the mare picked up her pace a little in response to the movement. Selina steadied her again, her mind full of the idea. How would she feel, being discovered in a compromising position? Her parents would be horrified – but, if she married the man, and if that man was the Duke, would it be so bad? Could she, for a life with a man like that, rather than Lord Hockingmoor, live with that kind of notoriety?

She thought that she could. It was a small price to pay for escaping marriage to the Earl. But… all of this thinking was pointless, if the Duke would not countenance such a thing with her. If all he wanted was secret kisses, but was not willing to consider ever marrying such as her, then they were both still doomed to unhappy marriages, forced by someone else.

The path wound on under the trees, where the ground was mostly clear of snow, and the horse’s hoofbeats were muffled by the wet layer of last year’s fallen leaves. She passed through a few clearings, where the small river ran beside the path, and the pale winter sunshine was beginning to melt the sparkling icicles from the trees. The sound of the water soothed her, and she settled into the peace of it, no longer thinking at all, simply moving comfortably with the horse’s steady stride, and enjoying the day.

But, at the next turn of the path, she was brought back to thought – there, in the clearing opening up before her, a man sat on a huge fallen log, looking out across the water. Beside him, his horse grazed on the bare winter grass which poked from under the thin coat of snow – as far as it could reach, at least, for he held the end of its reins in his fingers. The horse paused, looking up at her, its sense far more attuned to the presence of another being than human senses.

But it obviously knew her horse, for it immediately went back to grazing. The man had not moved. Time slowed, she sat, still, watching. It was like a scene from some novel – the man, the river, the sparkling icicles, the soft glow of the winter sun. She did not want to disturb his peace. But the mare was impatient, and shifted beneath her, making a little whickering sound.

He turned. Time slowed even more.

It was the Duke. Not only had he come, but he had ridden out earlier than her, and waited for her, probably knowing that his staff would suggest this path to her. His eyes met hers. There was a hunger there, which he made no attempt to hide.

The mare, as if sensing her need to be closer to him, took matters into her own control, and moved forward, finally coming to a stop beside him. Their eyes had stayed locked – as if it was the most natural thing, he looped his horse’s reins over a branch which stuck up from the log, then reached up to her.

Selina slipped her foot from the stirrup, lifted her leg over the pommel of the sidesaddle, and slid down into his arms. Almost before her feet reached the ground, his lips were on hers, his arms pulling her hard against him. The scent of him surrounded her, something exotic, like sandalwood, mixed with orange, and something more, something uniquely him. It was utterly intoxicating. She returned his kiss with a passion she had not known she possessed, losing herself in him.

His hands slid over her, caressing her back, feeling her shape through the fabric of the riding habit. Everywhere they moved, heat followed. It was as if his kiss was enough to melt her, like wax, and that molten heat pooled low in her belly, between her legs, in a way that she had only ever felt in her dreams before. He slid one hand up, tracing her side, until it held the underside of her breast, before sliding further, eventually rising to cup the back of her neck.

When his hand touched her breast, she felt its peak harden, and suddenly the sensation of the fabric of her clothes touching it was both exquisite and unbearable.

Finally, he drew back a little, his hand at her neck tilting her face up, when she would have looked down, suddenly filled with confusion. She licked her lips – they felt swollen, and retained the taste of him.

“Selina… thank you. I wanted, so much, to see you again, privately, like this…” his thumb slipped across her swollen lips, and she kissed the pad of it, unable to resist. He groaned lightly. “…and more. But I did not ask, for I would not risk your reputation, no matter how much I might want...”

Selina looked at him, struck by the incongruity of it – this honourable man, so concerned for her reputation, even whilst desiring her intensely, yet a man who was considering the idea of a scandal, to escape Lady Phyllida. A small laugh escaped her. She choked it off.

“Your Grace…”

“Alex. Please – I would be honoured to hear my name on your lips.”

She tasted it in her mind. Alex. It suited him. But to do so intimate a thing as to use his forename… she laughed again – why not, when they had kissed and touched in such an intimate way.

“Alex, at this moment, I find that I do not overly care about my reputation. Is that completely foolish of me? For I wanted to see you again, like this… the last few days have been… difficult… when all I could think of was…”

Daring, she rose on her toes a little, and brought her lips to his. He groaned again, a sound laced with need and hunger, and his hands tightened on her.

Still, after a few moments, he broke the kiss.