Page 103 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
She was not sure what had brought her to this decision. The unhappiness of this house, perhaps. The understanding it gave her of Adrian.
Or perhaps it was just waking in an empty bed and realizing how much shemissedhim. When a woman fell in love with a man, it was her right and her duty to do what she could to reach him, even when he felt unreachable.
That was why, after she let her fingers trail across the petals, she walked idly around the side of the house.
There was one person on her side—a stable boy she had befriended on her very first day. Now, he approached her with a saddled horse in one hand.
A man’s saddle, just as she had used in Scotland.
She was not one of those ladies who could not endure the thought of spreading her legs over a horse’s back, as though there was something improper about the notion.
One could not jump with as much stability if one was perched sidesaddle.
“Thank you,” she whispered, accepting the reins, then accepting his help onto the horse. “I will never tell.”
“Good luck, Your Grace.”
She reached down to tousle his sandy hair. “Thank you, Tommy. But I shall be just fine.”
Then, she dug her heels into the horse’s side and trotted out through the gate that ringed the gardens.
The wider estate beckoned, and she urged her mount into a canter, then a gallop.
The wind streamed through her hair, and she felt alive for the first time since she’d left London.
It was time to find her husband, reclaim her power, and take what she was due.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Are you perfectly sure about this?” Joseph asked for the umpteenth time.
Adrian rolled his eyes. “Why are you fussing like a mother with a newborn child?”
“Because I think this is a damn stupid course of action, that’s why.” Joseph slammed his hand on the desk. “You know a fellow like Briggs can’t be trusted.”
“When I want your advice, rest assured I will come to you and ask for it.”
“Adrian, consider.”
“I have considered. This is my best chance of acting against Moreton. You know I can’t level an accusation of this magnitude at him without proof. With Briggs’s help, I will have the proof.”
Joseph swore viciously, striding to the other end of the room. “Then I should be there with you.”
“Nonsense. You’re far more use to me here.”
“And what if you need help?”
Adrian pulled on his gloves and checked his cane for the sword sheathed there.
“Should I be insulted by your lack of faith in my abilities?” he asked wryly.
“Only if you die.”
“Rest assured I have no intention of doing that.” Adrian cast his study one last glance.
He wasn’t lying—he had no intention of dying, but he also had the slight impression that this would be the last time he saw this room in precisely the same light.
Probably Isobel’s fault. She had such a fanciful heart, she made him feel as though he also ought to be fanciful. But instead of Isobel, he had Joseph seeing him off.
