Page 15 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

Within a few minutes, the three of them were up in their respective saddles riding through the country.

“It’s been too long since I’ve done this,” Arabella announced with a smile of delight.

“And you, Amelia? When last did you enjoy a good mount?” Amelia shot a curious look at Benedict.

“I ride every day,” she replied without guile. “It clears my head.” She couldn’t be sure as to why she tacked on that last tidbit, but it was out there now.

“I feel the same way.” His lips curled in a smile that she couldn’t interpret. Was he being smug? Was he voicing that in an attempt to form a connection between the two of them?Either way, she resented him for it. He should be focusing on Arabella.

Amelia clicked her tongue to pull away from the other two. Giving them space to get to know each other was best for all parties involved.

And the low murmur of voices that she left behind didn’t bother her in the least.

And that deep rumble of laughter followed by her sister’s charming giggle? No. That was not vexing at all.

What was bothering her was that she felt some compulsion to ride sidesaddle rather than astride, in her typical fashion. Since Benedict was here, she felt that it was required for her to show some propriety.

All things considered, this was really the absolute least she could do. After pushing all other social mores to their limit.

“Shall we head to the folly for a picnic—” A bang blasted out into the air.

She shrieked as her horse reared up and took off in a gallop.

What the blazes was someone doing shooting a gun? There wouldn’t have been anyone hunting nearby today. She would have known about it.

Her mind was scrambling to form any thoughts because thoughts were low on the list of priorities. Her chief concerns were to stay seated on the runaway horse. Well, actually, that concluded the list of her primary objectives.

Unused to riding sidesaddle, her legs shook mightily in an effort to cling to the horse. The saddle dug into her hip as she leaned forward to counter her balance. And her hands gripped the reins so tightly that she felt as though she were strangling her own palms.

A loud, “Hah!” filled the air, followed by thundering hooves. “Hold steady, Amelia.” The clear voice bellowed at her. As if she had other plans.

In an instant a large arm wrapped itself around her middle, while Benedict shouted, “Let go!” Then she was flying through the air. Suspended. Weightless. Heart hammering louder than both horses combined. Her hands found purchase on broad shoulders, wrapping around his neck. “I’ve got you.” Yes, he did. And tightly. His arm was latched around her tighter than any corset she could recall.

Not more than a few seconds passed before he slowed the horse. That’s when she realized her face was buried in his shoulder. Again. This time, the forbidden hero was whispering to her, calming her heart rate with soothing words like, “It’s alright.” And, “You’re safe.” And even, “No harm has come to you.”

Oh. Little did he know the harm coming to her. Over and over. He was chosen for her sister. Not her. Why on earth did he have to keep rescuing her? She was developing the most inappropriate feelings for him.

Him and his strong body molded to hers. Powerful thighs beneath her bottom. Strong arms, now both around her waist. A tender hand caressing her back.

She should not be savoring this moment.

It was one thing to dream about the man.

It was an entirely different thing to take advantage of him in reality.

Even still, she didn’t move.

Chapter Ten

Dear Lady Amelia,

There comes a time in every woman’s life when she must decide who she will be.

Yours truly,

Mrs. Dove-Lyon

“Are you sure you brought him back as husband for me?”