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but I do have an excellent memory.” She laughed. “The duke has been kind enough to put his stables at the disposal of all his guests. If you were properly attired I would invite you to join me after you have eaten your breakfast.”
    The viscount raised his china cup to his lips and sipped his hot coffee. She was allowing him the perfect opportunity to take his leave politely, but for some strange reason Gareth did not seize upon it.
    “Unlike a woman, a man can quickly change his garments.” He chewed and swallowed a second slice of toasted bread. “I shall meet you at the stables in twenty minutes.”
    “I will only wait for twenty minutes.” Amelia’s smile deepened. “In order to force you to live up to your boastful promises.”
    Gareth leaned over confidently and whispered in her ear. “Be forewarned, I never boast what I cannot deliver.”
    He expected her eyes to widen with surprise or perhaps even expectation, but her gaze remained steady and focused. “I sincerely believe you.”
    He watched her graceful strides carry her from the room. Deciding he might need the sustenance, Gareth quickly ate some cheese and downed a second cup of coffee. The change of garments into suitable riding attire was accomplished in record time. He fortunately located a secondary stair down to the ground floor, so he arrived at the stables with a few minutes to spare. The stable boys were as accommodating as all the other servants of the house and rushed forward to assist him in selecting a horse.
    Amelia was a fetching sight, mounted atop a chestnut mare. She waited with a patient expression, though Gareth knew that would have changed had he not arrived on time. He soon joined her, riding a sturdy gray hunter. After confirming the direction with one of the grooms, the viscount led the way out.
    In his explorations of the estate yesterday he had learned of a folly. Well hidden and private, it was a solid structure that was not open but had a proper door and windows. He had not yet examined the interior. The views of the ornamental lake and formal gardens were reputed to be glorious from inside, but Gareth was more interested in the seclusion and privacy this spot offered.
    It could be the perfect location for a rendezvous with Emma. The quiet of the morning was an excellent time to investigate, and Amelia would provide pleasant, amusing company.
    They followed the bridle path at a comfortable pace. As soon as the path widened, Gareth drew alongside the countess. When so moved, Gareth made a comment to which Amelia readily responded. Though limited, the conversation between them flowed easily and naturally.
    He was pleased the matching bonnet set at a jaunty angle upon her head did not disrupt his view of her features. Gareth enjoyed watching her face glisten in the sunshine, her expressions varying from thoughtful, to amused, to delighted.
    Eventually the path ended, the trees giving way to a narrow field.
    “Are you game?” she asked with a questioning smile.
    “I make no allowances for the weaker sex,” he answered. “And I always race to win.”
    “I would expect no less.” She shot him a challenging glance, then took off.
    The unexpected start gave her the initial advantage, but Gareth was soon in hot pursuit. They thundered through the meadow, separated by only a few furlongs, with Amelia in the lead. He admired her skill with the reins, her instinct to win. She kept her head low, her knees tightly hugging the mare’s sides as she pushed the horse faster and faster.
    The relentless pounding of the horses’ hooves set Gareth’s blood rushing. He surrendered gleefully to the sensation, completely enjoying the thrill of speed, the excitement of the chase, the challenge of competition.
    A forest of mature trees loomed ahead. Gareth knew he only had a few minutes to catch her. He urged his horse on, but the countess still had the advantage. She pulled up at the edge of the trees, and turned her head in his direction.