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CHAPTER ONE
Oh, for a horse with wings
that I might fly from one party
to another as the Season is upon
us. This column shall continue to fill your lovely heads with
nothing but delicious gossip from
our most popular and our most
notorious members of the ton.
Should we begin with the blithe
Lord Chatwin who has let it be known
again this year that he is not
looking to make a match? But what
about the other half of the Terrible
Twosome? Is Lord Dugdale looking?
Lord Truefitt's
Society's Daily Column
"Merciful heavens, Catherine, it's not only dark as midnight
here in the park it's freezing cold, too. It's simply uncivilized
to be out before daybreak."
Catherine Reynolds looked over at her widowed half-sister who
rode beside her on a temperamental mare. In the week Catherine
had been in London, she'd ceased to be shocked by Victoria Goosetree's
constant complaining. Though the older woman would never breathe
an improper word in public, she was more than ready to speak her
mind in private.
"You'll warm up soon, Vickie. I think just before dawn is
the most beautiful time to be outside on a horse."
"The devil it is," Victoria grumbled as her mare snorted.
"I can't see a thing and I don't think it's safe."
"You can't see anything because you're not looking, and
with Mills riding behind us we are perfectly safe," Catherine
said.
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the crisp mist
of air that wafted across their path. She caught the scent of
wet foliage and sighed as it reminded her of home. Their groom
remained quiet as he rode behind them, and when Victoria wasn't
talking Catherine could relax and enjoy the peaceful early morning
sounds of Hyde Park.
"How much longer are we going to ride?" Victoria grumbled.
Catherine smiled to herself, remaining patient. Her mare nickered
and shook her head as puffs of warm breath snorted from her nostrils.
"We've been on the horses less than fifteen minutes."
"Feels like hours to me. I allowed you to talk me into this
for today, but I don't think I should like to do it again."
Catherine laughed but not loud enough that her petulant companion
could hear. It was cold, but that didn't bother Catherine. Having
grown up near the Northern coast, she was used to a climate where
the chilling dampness never seemed completely to go away.
"You're the one who insisted that I shouldn't ride during
the day when it is much warmer," Catherine felt compelled
to say.
Vickie snorted louder than the horse she was riding. "I
was only trying to impress upon you that young ladies who are
looking to make an excellent match shouldn't sit a horse in any
park during the Season."
This was yet another reminder of her half-sister's belief in
doing one thing in public and another in private. "You should
only be seen riding in an open carriage with a viscount, an earl
or perhaps a handsome marquis by your side. I don't know why I
allowed you to talk me into riding before daybreak. My feet are
numb."
Hyde Park was beautiful dressed in the magical misty-gray of
predawn. Shadowed sky light filtered through tree branches and
shone down on them. Shards of pink, gray, and dark blue were about
to be born on the horizon and Catherine looked forward to enjoying
the beauty of sunrise.
She had been in London over three months and it seemed as if
she had done nothing but be fitted for ball gowns and more ball
gowns. She considered the amount of clothing ridiculous Victoria
insisted she have for the start of the Season. And gowns were
only the half of it a lady had to select just the right gloves,
bonnets, fans and handkerchiefs, too. No one needed that many
things to wear.
"Perhaps if we rode a little faster you'd warm up,"
Catherine said, hoping to find a way Victoria could enjoy the
outing. "How about it? Are you ready to let the horses trot?"
"I'm not sure I can. This horse doesn't seem to be well-schooled."
Vickie's mount nickered and stomped as if agreeing with her comment.
Catherine reached down her gloved hand and patted the warm, firm
neck of the spirited animal she rode. Her mount needed no prodding.
Vickie was right that the hacks Mills had hired at a nearby livery
weren't well trained for riders.
Vickie's mare was old and cranky, constantly fighting the bit
while Catherine's mount pranced restlessly beneath her like a
young filly not saddle worn. But to Catherine, any horse was better
than not riding at all.
"Perhaps your horse senses that you are unsure with her,
and she's taking advantage," Catherine suggested. "You
need to take control. A canter will take some of the wind out
of her. Tighten up on your reins like this and let's ride."
"Very well," Victoria mumbled. "I'll try anything
to warm up."
"Good. That's the spirit." Catherine gently urged her
mount to pick up the pace. She turned back to Mills and motioned
for him to follow.
Catherine had an excellent seat, having ridden since she was
a young girl. She'd been forced to leave her favorite horse at
her home when she made the trip to London by private coach.
Victoria was sixteen years Catherine's senior, and with no close
male relative, it was Victoria's job to see that Catherine made
an acceptable match before the Season's end. But what Victoria
didn't know was that Catherine hadn't come to London in search
of a husband, she had come in search of her father.
Her real father.
She had three clues. The names of three men. She knew one of
them was her father, and she intended to find out which one had
refused to marry her mother more than twenty years before.
After the man whom she and everyone else always believed was
her father, Sir Patrick Reynolds, passed away a year ago, Catherine
had found her mother's journal among a box of books in the attic.
The diary was in deplorable condition. Over the years dampness
had eroded and smeared the ink on a lot of the pages and rodents
had chewed up many of the pages.
But in the readable passages of the neglected diary, Catherine
had come to know her mother's deepest secret, the man she had
married was not the father of the child she was carrying.
And that child was Catherine.
Lost in thought about her true mission to London, Catherine hadn't
realized that Victoria and Mills had fallen behind her until she
heard a cry of help. Catherine had a difficult time reining in
her horse but finally slowed the animal. She turned the mare around
and headed back to find out why Victoria had stopped.
"What's wrong?" Catherine asked as she halted her mount
beside her sister. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine but something has happened to Mills."
A moment of concern flashed through Catherine. She didn't see
Mills behind them so she immediately headed back the way they'd
come.
"Over here," she heard the groom call out.
It was difficult to make out much of anything in the darkness
but Catherine could see that Mills was not on his mare. He was
lying on the ground. She and Victoria stopped their horses. Dismounting
from a side saddle was difficult but Catherine managed to kick
free of her stirrup and jump down from her mount.
She hurried over to the man and asked, "Are you injured?"
"My horse stepped in a hole and we went down. I think I
broke my leg."
"Sweet mercies," she whispered. This was all her fault.
"Just lie still. We'll take care of everything."
Victoria knelt down beside Catherine and asked the groom, "How
bad are you hurt? Can you ride?"
"I don't think so. I can't move my leg and my horse is limping,
too."
Catherine had to come up with a plan of action fast. She looked
at Victoria and said, "You stay here with Millis and I'll
ride back and get the carriage for him."
"I can't let you ride alone in the park," Victoria
protested. "Not only is it too dangerous, it would be scandalous."
"Nonsense," Catherine said. "This is not the time
to worry about either of those things. Mills is hurt. Besides,
it's no longer pitch dark. I'm a much better and faster rider
than you. I know exactly how to get back to the carriage. I can
get it and be back here in half the time it would take you."
Catherine watched Victoria's brown gaze look down at the injured
groom.
"I must have your promise that you will not stop for anyone
or anything until you get to the carriage."
"You have it," she said without hesitation.
"Then be off. Ride fast but be careful. It won't do for
you to be seen riding in the park unescorted even for a short
time or for so worthy a cause."
"I promise to be careful. I'll ride fast and return quickly.
Now come help me mount."
With Victoria's help Catherine managed to climbed back onto her
horse and head in the direction where they left the carriage.
She often rode alone on the hills and countryside where she'd
grown up, and she had learned early to always be aware of her
surroundings so that she could find her way home.
Catherine let the mare have her head and galloped through the
fading darkness. The chilling wind stung her cheeks and watered
her eyes, but she kept up the exhilarating fast pace, feeling
free for the first time since coming to London.
The ribbons of her riding bonnet loosened and the wind blew it
to the back of her shoulders. For a moment she felt as if she
were back in the country on her favorite horse chasing the dawn.
Suddenly, another horse and rider shot out of a side path right
in front of her.
Catherine tugged hard on the reins, jerking up her horse's head.
The mare reared in panic. Catherine lost her stirrup, and the
leather went slack in her hands as the frightened animal came
down hard on all fours, and then reared again.
She felt herself falling backward. She tried to grab hold of
the horse's neck, her mane, anything to try and calm her mount
but the animal was too frantic.
One moment Catherine was tumbling down, and the next she sprawled
on the cold ground flat on her back.
Catherine didn't know if she was breathing. She knew her eyes
were open because she saw the grayish-blue sky swirling above
her.
Catherine hadn't been unseated in years and it stunned her.
Suddenly a man loomed over her. "Miss? Miss, are you injured?"
She blinked to clear her blurred sight and managed to focus on
the man's face. The first thing she saw was dark, dark eyes filled
with concern. She wanted to tell him that only her pride was wounded,
but for some unknown reason air seemed trapped in her chest, and
she didn't have the breath to speak.
The man poised above her had hair as black as his eyes and it
fell attractively across his broad brow. Her gaze moved down a
nose that narrowed at the bridge making him look ever so handsome.
High, angular cheekbones and his clean-shaven chin and jaw looked
strong and square. His mouth appeared wide and his lips were full
and well-defined, and they showed the same concern she saw in
his eyes.
She knew he spoke to her again, but she remained still, gazing
into his handsome face, feeling intrigued and captivated by the
strange sensations going on inside her. Was it the intensity of
his gaze that did confounding things to the rhythm of her heart,
or was the fluttering caused by her fall?
He reached down and shoved one arm beneath her back, and he hooked
the other under her legs, lifting her from the ground. Her muscles
flinched at his touch more from surprise than fright that she
might be in any perilous danger from this stranger.
Catherine felt strength in his arms and the immediate warmth
of his hard body pressed against her hip. His impressive, masculine
power embraced her as if she weighed no more than a quill.
The scent of shaving soap and leather awakened something soft
and feminine inside her and for a moment she had an intense desire
to cuddle into the warmth of the strong arms that held her.
It wasn't until he started walking that her common sense returned.
"What are you doing? Please, sir, put me down."
His arms tightened firmly about her at first, but she pushed
at his chest, saying louder, "Unhand me, you scoundrel."
She kicked her legs and squirmed until he set her down
on her feet.
Catherine realized she stood far too close to this tall, lithe,
wide-shouldered man whose breathing was as fast and rippled as
her own. She was quite embarrassed she'd been thrown from her
horse, and she tried to restore her
dignity by taking a deep breath and pulling on the hem of her
black velvet riding coat.
Her gaze locked on his. Catherine's stomach did a slow flip.
"What do you mean by touching me, and where do you think
you were taking me?"
His full, feathered eyebrows drew together in a curious expression
and framed eyes that shone clear as dark amber glass in the ever
brightening light of day.
"I thought you were hurt. I was going to place you on my
horse and go for help."
His voice was low, soothing, and as handsome as his face. A glow
of unexpected pleasure filled her, causing her stomach to tingle.
There was something compelling about him and that caused her
to be wary but not frightened.
She took a step back and said, "I don't need help, sir.
I'm not harmed."
"I'm glad to hear that, Miss, however I didn't know that
at the time I offered assistance. My apologies."
Catherine brushed a strand of hair away from her face and took
a calming breath. This was not a situation in which she'd expected
to find herself.
"If you hadn't come racing out from under the trees like
Lord Pinkwater's ghost was after you, you wouldn't have spooked
my horse, and I wouldn't have landed on the ground."
He stood looking at her with the right amount of self importance.
She could see by the cut of his fine, broadcloth riding coat there
was no doubt that a gentleman stood before her and quite possibly
one of the titled few.
"You are correct, but how was I to know there would be such
a lovely young lady in the park on a horse galloping out of control,
especially so early in the morning?"
Catherine shuddered in outrage as she pulled her bonnet back
on her head, settling it in place.
"I beg your pardon, sir. I'm a very good horsewoman. My
mare was not out of control. We were racing the wind."
A disarming, rogue's grin lifted one corner of his mouth. "Racing
the wind?"
Her statement had amused him, and that didn't sit well on Catherine's
ignited temper or her bruised ego. "And I might add that
I was winning."
The stranger threw back his head and laughed.
His laughter was appealing, deep and rich with indulgence. The
wide smile on his face, showing even white teeth made him even
more handsome, and something that felt very much like pleasure
curled deep inside her. This man
stirred feelings in her that she'd never been made aware of before.
She couldn't imagine why she had made that ridiculous comment.
She was making things worse for herself, not better. It wasn't
like her to get flustered over anything.
Suddenly, she very much wanted to know who he was. She opened
her mouth to ask him to identify himself when she remembered Victoria's
parting words and Catherine's promise to her not to stop. What
was she doing standing here and allowing this man to fascinate
her when she needed to get the carriage to Mills?
Catherine had to make a hasty retreat.
She looked around where they stood but saw only the stranger's
gelding. "If you are quite finished with your merriment,
would you please tell me where my horse is so that I can be on
my way?"
He cleared his throat and quickly wiped the grin off his face
as best he could and answered, "I'm afraid she ran off after
throwing you."
She gasped. "You let my horse run away?"
"Forgive me for having more interest in whether you were
hurt than if your mount hightailed it out of the park."
"Merciful goodness," she mumbled to herself as she
took in a deep breath, realizing her ribs were sore and her head
was pounding.
What was she going to do? She must get to Mills and send him
with the carriage for Victoria. It was best she not to tell this
stranger about her sister. Victoria was strict about her rules,
and she would not approve of Catherine talking to this man no
matter the unusual circumstances.
"Might I add that a proper young lady should not be out
riding alone," the man added.
"I wouldn't be alone and at the mercy of a stranger if you
hadn't frightened off my horse. Now, sir, I need to borrow yours."
She reached for the reins he held in his hand and just as her
fingers would have closed around the strips of leather he whisked
them from her grasp.
An inquisitive expression settled across his face. "Are
you daft? I can't let you have my horse."
"Why not?" Catherine asked in her most sensible voice.
"I'll return him."
That handsome, roguish grin returned to his face, and Catherine
knew without a doubt that under different circumstances this man
could do what no other man had ever done-capture her fancy.
"For one, he's not accustomed to strange riders. The other
is that no gentleman I know would give a lady his horse."
Fighting her attraction to the man and beginning to feel more
her confident self, Catherine said, "So you have no concerns
for my needs although you nearly collided into me, causing my
mare to unseat me and run off. What kind of gentleman are you,
sir?"
He bowed and said, "One who will put you on my saddle and
walk you to wherever it is you need to go."
"Rubbish. That is completely unnecessary and will waste
time for both of us. You need have no fear I shall harm myself
or your horse. I have managed untrained horses before."
"Yes, I see how well you handle horses."
Catherine's blue eyes widened. His retort stung. "Must I
remind you that you are the one who rode out in front of me?"
"No. But I must say again, I've never had to worry before
about a lady riding on this path so early in the morn."
Catherine opened her mouth to tell him about Mills, but thought
better of it. There was still a chance she could keep Victoria
from knowing she had talked to this man.
"Sir, I'm on a serious mission, and I don't have time to
argue with you over who is at fault for my current predicament.
I really need to borrow your horse."
With that, she reached for the reins again and this time her
hand covered his.
They both wore gloves, but that didn't keep Catherine from feeling
a shock of awareness as her fingers closed over his tight fist.
Teasing warmth prickled across her breasts and settled low in
her stomach. She was sure she'd never met a man who stirred up
her senses like this one.
By the look in his eyes he also felt the same strange sensations.
His dark gaze looked deeply into her eyes before sweeping down
her face, past the front of her riding habit, down to her waist
and back up to her eyes. A strange thrill skittered through her.
"I daresay I've never met a young lady as bold and as unconventional
as you."
She let go of his hand as quickly as if it'd been a hot poker.
"And I've never met so stubborn a man. Sir, I don't have
time for your obstinacies. There is something I must take care
of immediately and I can't do it without a horse."
"Tell me where it is you wish to go, and I will help you
onto my horse and walk you there."
"That will take longer than I have. Merciful goodness, you
try my patience."
That enchanting smiled played along the corners of his lips again.
"And you've worn on mine. Now come, I'll help you climb up
on my horse."
The daylight brightened the sky to a light powdery shade of blue.
He was obviously as strict about rules as her half-sister. He
would not be swayed from doing the proper thing.
She'd lived all her life in the country, but she'd often read
about the rigid rules of London society, getting old copies of
the Times and other broadsides when the mail coach came to her
town. She knew there was nothing to do but get on the horse and
let him lead her to Mills. She could only hope that Victoria would
not consider her reputation ruined for talking to this man.
"Very well, if it is the only way I can leave immediately
I'll acquiesce to your wishes."
He bowed. "Thank you."
She looked into his eyes and held out her gloved hand. Their
gaze held for a moment longer than was necessary and Catherine's
breaths grew uncommonly short. A heat she couldn't explain coiled
deep inside her abdomen and rose up to tighten in her chest.
He ignored her hand and instead, settled both his around her
waist. They were strong, and comforting. She shivered with pleasure
at his firm touch and her arms immediately went up and her hands
grabbed onto his broad, firm shoulders so she could help steady
herself.
Catherine liked the feel of his body beneath her hands. She liked
the warmth that emanated from him and flowed to her.
He boldly took hold of her, lifted her off the ground and onto
the saddle. Her black velvet skirt pooled around her legs as she
tried to fit her bottom sideways into a saddle made for riding
astride a horse. With deliberation, he took the stirrup and was
attempting to shorten it fit her.
Catherine looked down and saw the slack strips of leather in
his black gloved hand.
Temptation rose up inside her.
Should she?
Without further thought she reached down and grabbed them from
his grasp.
She glanced at his eyes and saw a flicker of shock just before
she kicked the horse's flank with the heel of her boot and shot
past him.
Catherine held on tight and didn't turn around as she quickly
put distance between herself and the handsome stranger.
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A Hint Of Seduction by Amelia Grey-
Available Now
An earl is at his wit's end when his
marriageable sister joins Miss Winslowe's Wallflower
Society-and winds up accused of killing London's most
eligible bachelor.
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