“We’re all of us scared Atlas is goin’ t’ take a tumble, what with his lordship ridin’ out late every night.”
Grace stiffened. “What?”
“Somebody’s got to be down here, t’ get his lordship’s horse saddled an’ cool Atlas down after he returns.”
“In the middle of the night? How long has this been going on?”
“Ever since ye came to the brick house. Mr. McLeod says I can sleep while ’is lordship is gone, but I’m worrit Atlas will step in a hole an’ his lordship’ll be hurt. We’re all holdin’ our breath each night ’til they come back in one piece.”
Thatwas what Lucien had been doing after he left her bed? Riding his poor horse in the darkness? Keeping this poor boy up half the night? Was Lucien so determined to get away from her that he would risk breaking his own neck?
She bid Eli and the mare goodbye, leaving before the lad saw how outraged she was. She fumed the rest of the day, stalking about Everdene Hall’s grounds, deadheading roses in the garden with a vengeance, invading the kitchen and helping knead bread to the horror of the cook, getting angrier by the minute until she heard her husband enter the house.
She swept into the entryway to meet him. He didn’t look like a man who was riding all night like some unquiet spirit. He was perfectly turned out, cravat starched, not a crease in his coat, while she felt as if one of the stable’s cats had been batting her about ever since her encounter with Eli.
“I have been waiting to speak to you,” she said.
“Can it not wait until tonight? I have an accounting matter to consider. This horse Simon wishes to purchase?—”
“Does the horse come with lanterns on its bridle so it can see in the dark?” she demanded in heated accents. “Because if that is so, I say any coin spent would be well worth it considering that night is your favorite time to roam the countryside.”
He froze, looked at her sharply. She had never expected to see the Viscount Everdene discomfited. But red crept up from that perfectly tied cravat. “Who told you that?”
“That doesn’t matter. It is obviously true.”
“I have nothing to hide. When I choose to ride is of no concern to anyone else.”
“As your wife, I disagree,” she said. “I would rather not be made a widow. After what happened in London and the threats you received, you must be aware of the danger you are in. Is it truly so difficult for you, having me here in the house, that you have to go for midnight rides?”
“Riding helps me think.”
“I want to be a help to you, as my mother was to my father. Would not talking to me help you think without the risk of broken bones—for you or the horse?”
He clenched his jaw. His eyes glittered with something dangerous. Good, Grace thought. Anything was better than the cool politeness that made her want to scream.
“No,” Lucien said levelly. “Talking to you would not help me think.”
“How would you know?” Her hands knotted in fists. “You have not even given me a chance!”
His ice-blue eyes locked with hers, the connection sizzling between them until it was nigh unbearable. She refused to look away.
He paced toward her, more like a tiger than ever, his gaze never wavering. “Talking to you wouldnothelp clear my mind, wife,” he said, as he grasped her by the arms, “because when I see you, the only thing I can think of isthis.”
His mouth crashed down on hers.
CHAPTER 23
Lucien could feel the wildness leap up in her. All the words he could not say were like a whirlwind in his mind. That he’d needed the knife-edge of danger riding in darkness to ease the driving need he felt right now.
Her anger at him only heightened it, the fire beneath her compassion, that fierceness that dared him…
He pressed his tongue between her lips, and kissed her the way he had been longing to, with nothing held back. Her fingers delved into his hair, her body against his as if she had been formed just for him.
“It is not ten yet,” she said.
She was baiting him.
It only served to make his cock harder than it had ever been before. “I don’t give a damn what time it is.” There it was. The truth.
