Page 8 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
Twenty yards farther on, they drew level, and he held Tamerlane parallel to The Barbarian, keeping the gelding a respectful three yards from the huge stallion.
The Barbarian rolled a baleful eye at Tamerlane and snorted a tentative challenge, to which Tamerlane, too accustomed to the vagaries of stallions to rise to such bait, snorted in mildly contemptuous reply.
That seemed to satisfy The Barbarian, at least enough for the massive beast to continue his steady gallop.
Indeed, the horses fell into stride, and the thud of their hooves merged into one steady drumbeat.
Nicholas risked a swift glance at the horse and rider alongside. He could read nothing in Lady Adriana’s expression, shadowed as it was by the brim of her hat, and lowered his gaze to the horse; as they thundered on, he endeavored to confine his interest to the stallion’s points rather than ogle hers.
That said, it was obvious that she was an accomplished rider; her lack of concern despite their pace was telling.
Eventually, they reached the end of the long glade they’d been following, and she slowed The Barbarian to a walk and twisted in the saddle to look back.
Nicholas knew she would see her groom, now some distance behind them, engaged in a comradely exchange with Young Gillies, yet the pair would still be following in Adriana and Nicholas’s wake.
After considering the sight for several seconds, with the horses continuing to walk on, she shifted her attention to him.
Nicholas felt her gaze, but continued to keep his trained on The Barbarian, ostensibly noting the ease with which the horse moved at the slower pace, yet he was so aware of her, he knew when she narrowed her eyes on him.
“You haven’t gone away.”
None-too-subtle accusation colored her tone.
“No.” He nodded at the stallion. “I wanted to see him before I decided whether he was worth the effort of persuading you to take my offer to your father.”
Her brows rose. “So you trespassed?”
He raised his gaze to her face. “Right of way.”
Predictably, she humphed.
He smothered a grin and added, “At least until you started to gallop, and if that wasn’t an invitation to join you, I stand corrected.”
To that, she reacted not at all, which led him to suspect she had, indeed, known he was following before she set off on her gallop.
Interesting. Who has been testing whom?
After a moment, she asked, “What was your verdict?” She raised her gaze to his face and drily added, “Regarding the horse.”
Hiding his amusement was growing harder by the minute; she seemed to unerringly strike some heretofore unsuspected chord of camaraderie within him. Shifting his gaze forward, he replied, “I’ve concluded that the Cynster Stable should, indeed, pursue the purchase of The Barbarian.” He met her gaze. “Which means I’ll need to negotiate with your father, given he’s the horse’s owner.”
Her eyes slowly narrowed.
Seeking to distract her from whatever resistance she was assembling, he added, “Indeed, I’m surprised the earl isn’t the one riding him.”
Addie accepted what was patently a diversion; anything to gain a little more time to think—to drag her mind from the undeniable thrill of pounding along in tandem with him. “As it happens, I’m the only person, male or female, the devil will allow on his back.”
“Really?” His gaze returned to The Barbarian. “That suggests he wasn’t well trained.”
“Perhaps you should rethink your offer.”
He threw her an amused look. “We want him for breeding, not for riding.”
And that was enough of that. Addie couldn’t believe how much trouble she was having reining in her senses, let alone her thoughts. Then again, Nicholas Cynster was the only gentleman she’d ever met who had subsequently appeared in her dreams.
She didn’t want to think what that might mean.
Concentrate!
