Page 22 of Make Mine a Marquess

He watched as she reached the lake’s edge, then hurried behind a bush. Only when she was dressed and safely on her way to the house did he turn back to the water.

He needed a long swim to cool his lust. Not for the first time since encountering his cousin’s fiancée did he find himself off balance. When he’d seen her frolicking in the water, his plans were furthest from his mind. He must maintain a level head around her. Because he fully intended to seduce her.

…

That night, Phoebe tossed in bed. She’d dreamt of her encounter in the lake with the new master of the house, the enigmatic Marquess of Landon. She’d seen a man’s naked chest before, but not a chest like his. Broad shoulders, sculpted muscles, and a sprinkling of dark curling hair that traveled below the water and out of sight. When she’d come to her senses after leaping into his arms, the heat and hardness of his chest had shocked her.

He’d wanted to kiss her.

Goodness, at that moment, she’d wanted it. She’d wanted to know if his lips were as merciless as they looked, if he was a skilled kisser, and if the maddening pounding of her heart was from the danger of the unknown in the water or from the man himself. Just thinking of it made her breasts sensitive in the cotton nightgown and a pulsing ache between her thighs. Lifting her nightgown, she slipped her fingers between her thighs and pressed the pulsing point high between her legs. The ache was worse. Was she truly wicked?

It was well past midnight before she fell asleep.

Chapter Seven

Slipping out of the house early the following morning was easier than she’d thought. Phoebe breathed in the fresh country air as the stables came into view. It wasn’t just the thought of the estate’s horses but the man she would find inside that caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach.

To her delight, rows of a dozen stalls held well-kept horses. Bales of fresh hay had been delivered outside the stables. Saddles, bridles, and leathers hung on hooks on the walls inside. Grooming implements were neatly arranged on shelves. An archway led to a carriage room. The stables smelled of horses and leather, and Phoebe felt more at home here than in the estate’s drawing room.

“I wasn’t sure you would come, but I’m delighted you’re here.”

Phoebe spun at the familiar masculine voice to find the Marquess of Landon standing by one of the stalls. His teeth flashed. Wolfish. Devilish. Her heart did a pitter patter at the sight of the man. Dressed in a navy riding coat, hugging breeches, and black Hessians, he was a welcome sight. The memory of yesterday’s swim returned in a rush, along with a tingling of her nerves.

“The fresh morning air is a draw.” So was the man.

“Should we wait for your cousin?” he asked.

“I saw no need to disturb her at this early hour.” It was a lie. She’d tried to wake Beatrice, but her cousin, who was unaccustomed to staying up late, turned over in her bed and refused to rise. Phoebe hadn’t tried too hard to convince her. A part of herself, a selfish part, did not want Beatrice to accompany her. Her cousin was not a skilled rider, and Phoebe wanted to gallop across the fields. It might be reckless, like he’d accused her of, but she was willing to take the risk to ride. As for the marquess himself, she could take care of herself and once seated on her horse, she would be safe. Unlike at the lake, now she was fully dressed, from the hat perched upon her head to her navy riding habit down to her riding boots. At all costs, she’d control her physical response to the man.

“I took the liberty of saddling a horse. Her name is Daisy.”

“She’s lovely.” Phoebe reached out to rub the mare’s soft muzzle.

Rather than wait for her to step on a mounting block, his large hands encircled her waist and he lifted her, as if she weighed no more than thistledown, into the sidesaddle. The touch was brief but devastating. A tremor unfurled in her and her heart leaped wildly in her breast. She wondered if he knew what effect he had on her, but his dark eyes revealed nothing.

He mounted his stallion and together they were off.

The land was heavily wooded with pine. They rode side-by-side on a narrow path, and she glimpsed Landon’s muscled thighs as he easily controlled the large stallion.

Birds trilled with their sweet music. Squirrels sprinted up trees, and she observed a doe with its fawn. Wide-eyed, Phoebe took in the nature, not willing to miss anything. She loved the outdoors and delighted in the freedom of riding. Soon enough, she’d have to go back to the manor and the ladies’ activities. But here, now, she would do what gave her pleasure.

The path opened up to a pasture, and a bluff came into view. The soothing sound of flowing water combined with the cry of a hawk flying high above.

“Come. I want to show you something,” he said.

She turned her horse to follow. He stopped at the edge of the bluff to overlook a river and she joined him. It was early summer and the water flowed lazily toward a small waterfall. She spotted the sleek, black body of an otter.

Before she could think, she dismounted and pointed down river. “Look at the otter! I’ve never seen one in person.”

He dismounted and joined her. “They return every summer. I enjoyed watching them as a young boy.”

She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs. “It’s beautiful here.”

“I used to come here when I wanted to escape. The vastness of nature made all my burdens seem small. Looking back, those burdens seem insignificant now.”

He must mean after the shipwreck. How bad had his injuries been? How long did he suffer with loss of memory? Questions plagued her.

“And now? Do your problems seem just as burdensome?” she asked.