“Loosely,” he reminded.
“Iamholding loosely.”
“Trusty, slow,” he called out.
The horse slowed.
Cassandra glanced heavenward. “If he responds so well to voice commands, why do I have to keep hold of the reins at all?”
“He would likely find his way home on his own, but what if the Hall was not your destination? He cannot read your mind. And once you learn to drive, you can take the cart anywhere you wish to go.”
Cassandra wrinkled her nose at him.
She was terribly cute, even when flabbergasted.
“Besides,” he added, “learning to drive is much easier when you can practice on a well-trained horse.”
Despite his attempts at reassurance, she remained stiff.
“Trusty, stop,” he called out.
The animal stopped. He took the reins and laid them carefully down.
“Give me your hand.”
Reluctantly, she placed her palm into his and he circled his fingers around her wrist, pressing the pads of his fingers into her glove as if he were seeking signs of life. Fleetingly, he wished neither of them were wearing gloves. Because if they weren’t wearing gloves, he could trace the vein up her arm and—
“Yes?”
Her prompt intruded on his thoughts.Pity.“Keep your wrist flexible. See?” He wiggled her wrist. “Thisis loosely.”
Finally, she gave up resisting and relaxed her hand.
“Very good.”
Her mouth twisted. “You just want me to be compliant.”
He snorted. “Occasionalcompliance would be nice.”
“May I have my hand back please?”
“Not yet.” He ran his thumb over her fingers. “I’ve always liked your hands.”
“You have?” She gazed at him, her expression part apprehensive, part intrigued.
“When we first met, you were always so still, so controlled, except for your hands. Your hands were nearly always in motion. Occasionally, I’d fancy that if I watched your hands enough, their movements would reveal all of your secrets.”
“Youwantto know my secrets?”
He did.
He wanted to know her secrets. But he couldn’t demand them until he was willing to reveal his own.
“Areyou keeping secrets from me?” he countered.
She dropped her gaze. “Why would you ask?”
“Just a sense.” Actually, he’d been speaking metaphorically, but she didn’t seem as forthcoming as usual, did she? “You were fluttering your hands during tea. And you balled up your fingers just now.”
