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Eyes wide, she turned and watched him as he walked down the street. He hadn’t cut her, but his actions came awfully close. Why?
Was it the way she behaved after the shooting lessons? Having got what he wanted, was he no longer interested? She had a final, horrifying thought—surely he hadn’t realized she was Persephone?
Ria swallowed to stem the rising wave of sickness threatening to swamp her. Blinking to hold back tears, she turned toward the stables.
She didn’t see the chestnut horse. The first she knew of it was hearing a high-pitched squeal, the curses of a rider, and Mary’s scream.
As Luc walked away, he knew Ria had been surprised then hurt by his aloofness. For a brief moment, he considered turning back. But no, this was for the best. He turned his neck to stretch his tense muscles.
During his slow seduction of her, he’d come to realize Ria wasn’t mistress material. She was what wives were made of. He didn’t want to get married, though he must unless he wanted his foppish cousin to inherit. But when he did, it would not be to a woman like Ria. Not when she made him feel this way.
He tugged at his suddenly-too-tight cravat and collar. He didn’t want a wife he was addicted to, and the widow was very, very addictive.
He didn’t want a wife who could make him jealous when she so much as smiled at another man, even when that man was his best friend.
He didn’t want to recreate his parents’ marriage. Disappointment, anger, and jealousy had made them such bitter enemies they continually strove to embarrass and humiliate the other. Publicly.
He couldn’t marry Ria.
Luc attempted to quash the hollow feeling welling up inside him at the thought of never seeing her again.
He tried hard.
He failed.
Just as he turned, intending to find her and apologize, there was a commotion behind him.
He looked back to see a horse bucking and Geoffrey Danielson trying to stay in the saddle and regain control of the chestnut. The horse began to calm, though it neighed nervously, sweat making its light ginger-brown flanks gleam.
As Luc watched, Danielson reached down to pat the horse’s neck, brushing aside the blond mane just as, behind him, a vegetable cart was wheeled out of an alleyway.
Suddenly almost unseating its rider, the horse moved sideways in a crablike motion, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. With a loud squeal, it recommenced bucking, its hind legs catching the edge of the cart with enough force to turn it over, spilling its contents. The chestnut danced amongst the potatoes and carrots until they were mashed into the cobblestones.
Danielson shouted at bystanders to move out of the way. He pulled hard at the reins, but the horse started to rear.
And the two people most in danger of being struck by the flailing hooves were Ria and her maid.
Luc’s breath caught as he realized Ria wasn’t getting out of the way of danger. Rather, she was trying to pull away her maid who was standing transfixed in the street, seemingly incapable of movement.
Swiftly Luc crossed the road, angling his approach to avoid the horse’s legs. Just as he reached Ria, he saw one of the hooves descending right above her head.
There was no time for gentlenes
s. Lowering his left shoulder, he tackled both women, sending them flying to the cobblestones.
He landed on his back with Ria on top of him. Over her shoulder, he could see the horse’s belly. He was close enough to smell its sweat and see the line of light brown hair running down its stomach. He could also see a hoof once more descending, heading directly for Ria’s head.
He caught her around the middle, then twisted them both away.
But he hadn’t been quick enough.
As he got to his knees, he saw her maid being helped up by bystanders.
He looked down at Ria, lying still and pale on the cobbles. Her hat had fallen off, and her hair had spilled across her face. Ripping off his gloves, he crouched down and tenderly brushed it away.
Behind him he heard rapid footsteps, then a person asking, “Oh, my God! Is she all right?”
At the sound of Danielson’s voice, Luc whirled. “Keep away from her. You’ve done enough damage.”
