a magnificent beast, clearly capable of handling the terrain. She spotted a low stone hedge, and the stallion took it easily, landing neatly on the opposite side. She could hear the duke behind her.
“Miss Caulfield, wait!”
Jo nudged the stallion even faster, aiming at a hedge off to the right.
“Miss Caulfield—Jocelyn, wait!”
Jo laughed and neatly clipped the hedge, landing perfectly on the opposite side. Unfortunately, in a shady spot some of the snow had melted into a puddle she hadn’t seen. The horse hit the mud and nearly went down. Jocelyn kept her seat, but just barely, and she was furious that the animal had made her look bad in front of the duke.
He caught up with her just as she raised the crop to slam it against the horse’s flanks, reached over and jerked it out of her hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked sharply.
“The stupid horse missed my command. You saw him! He nearly unseated me.”
“I tried to warn you. The fields are wet. You were riding too fast. It’s a wonder you both didn’t go down. It’s a miracle you weren’t injured.”
“It was the horse, I tell you. If he had obeyed my command—”
He seemed to be drawing on his self-control. His jaw looked hard, but his words came out softly. “Why don’t we ride south. You can see a bit of the forest. There’ll be snow left on the branches. It’s beautiful this time of year.”
Jocelyn sniffed, placated but barely. She could have been injured. The duke should have taken her side, should have whipped the blasted horse for not obeying her command.
She looked up at him, sitting on the bay, tall and broad-shouldered, unbelievably handsome. She supposed she could forgive him. He was going to be her husband, after all.
“I believe we have lost our chaperone,” she said, glancing around, but seeing no sign of the groom.
“He’ll find us. He knows where we’re going.”
But Jocelyn was glad he was gone. She wanted a little time alone with the duke. When he reached the forest and suggested they walk for a bit, she readily agreed. The duke tied the horses, lifted her out of the saddle, then took her hand and led her down to a small, bubbling stream.
He stopped at the edge of the water, looked out over the landscape, a very blue sky over rolling hills that held the last traces of snow.
Jocelyn’s gaze followed his. “It’s lovely, Your Grace.”
“I would like it if you called me Royal—at least when we are alone. May I call you Jocelyn?”
She smiled. “I would like that very much.”
His gaze roamed over the countryside. “This land means a great deal to me. Once the house is refurbished, do you think you could be happy here?”
She returned her attention to the winter-barren fields stretching as far as she could see and thought how bleak it was. Pretty, in a barren, empty sort of way, but life in the country simply wasn’t for her. “I presume we will also be spending time in London.”
“If that is your wish.”
She smiled with relief, thinking that once they were married, a brief, once-a-year trip to the country would be more than sufficient. “Then of course I could be happy.”
Royal reached for her and she didn’t stop him when he drew her into his arms. She closed her eyes as he bent his head and kissed her. It was a soft, gentle meeting of lips, a respectable kiss until she opened for him. Royal hesitated only a moment, then deepened the kiss, tasting her more fully, letting her taste him.
He was good at kissing, she thought in some far corner of her mind, his lips soft yet firm, moist but not sloppy. Once they were married, allowing him his husbandly rights would not be a difficult thing.
Royal was the first to end the embrace. He looked up, saw his groom riding over the top of a distant hill. “I think it’s time we returned to the house.”
Jocelyn glanced over his shoulder and saw their chaperone approaching. “Of course.”
He helped her remount, setting her easily in
“Miss Caulfield, wait!”
Jo nudged the stallion even faster, aiming at a hedge off to the right.
“Miss Caulfield—Jocelyn, wait!”
Jo laughed and neatly clipped the hedge, landing perfectly on the opposite side. Unfortunately, in a shady spot some of the snow had melted into a puddle she hadn’t seen. The horse hit the mud and nearly went down. Jocelyn kept her seat, but just barely, and she was furious that the animal had made her look bad in front of the duke.
He caught up with her just as she raised the crop to slam it against the horse’s flanks, reached over and jerked it out of her hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked sharply.
“The stupid horse missed my command. You saw him! He nearly unseated me.”
“I tried to warn you. The fields are wet. You were riding too fast. It’s a wonder you both didn’t go down. It’s a miracle you weren’t injured.”
“It was the horse, I tell you. If he had obeyed my command—”
He seemed to be drawing on his self-control. His jaw looked hard, but his words came out softly. “Why don’t we ride south. You can see a bit of the forest. There’ll be snow left on the branches. It’s beautiful this time of year.”
Jocelyn sniffed, placated but barely. She could have been injured. The duke should have taken her side, should have whipped the blasted horse for not obeying her command.
She looked up at him, sitting on the bay, tall and broad-shouldered, unbelievably handsome. She supposed she could forgive him. He was going to be her husband, after all.
“I believe we have lost our chaperone,” she said, glancing around, but seeing no sign of the groom.
“He’ll find us. He knows where we’re going.”
But Jocelyn was glad he was gone. She wanted a little time alone with the duke. When he reached the forest and suggested they walk for a bit, she readily agreed. The duke tied the horses, lifted her out of the saddle, then took her hand and led her down to a small, bubbling stream.
He stopped at the edge of the water, looked out over the landscape, a very blue sky over rolling hills that held the last traces of snow.
Jocelyn’s gaze followed his. “It’s lovely, Your Grace.”
“I would like it if you called me Royal—at least when we are alone. May I call you Jocelyn?”
She smiled. “I would like that very much.”
His gaze roamed over the countryside. “This land means a great deal to me. Once the house is refurbished, do you think you could be happy here?”
She returned her attention to the winter-barren fields stretching as far as she could see and thought how bleak it was. Pretty, in a barren, empty sort of way, but life in the country simply wasn’t for her. “I presume we will also be spending time in London.”
“If that is your wish.”
She smiled with relief, thinking that once they were married, a brief, once-a-year trip to the country would be more than sufficient. “Then of course I could be happy.”
Royal reached for her and she didn’t stop him when he drew her into his arms. She closed her eyes as he bent his head and kissed her. It was a soft, gentle meeting of lips, a respectable kiss until she opened for him. Royal hesitated only a moment, then deepened the kiss, tasting her more fully, letting her taste him.
He was good at kissing, she thought in some far corner of her mind, his lips soft yet firm, moist but not sloppy. Once they were married, allowing him his husbandly rights would not be a difficult thing.
Royal was the first to end the embrace. He looked up, saw his groom riding over the top of a distant hill. “I think it’s time we returned to the house.”
Jocelyn glanced over his shoulder and saw their chaperone approaching. “Of course.”
He helped her remount, setting her easily in
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