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Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun. A red flower was tucked into it and a black bolero sat upon her head at a rakish angle. She wore a black skirt with a flounce and her white shirt was tucked in with her sleeves buttoned tight at her wrists. A wide leather belt decorated her waist. Around her neck was an equally bright red neckcloth with a silver round buckle holding the two edges together. How he would love to see her walk onto an English duchess’s dancing floor looking like the Spanish princess she was to him.
She’d never lacked confidence and watching her stride across the balcony and down the curved staircase made him believe she’d gained even more while he’d been gone. As she approached, she pulled on one of her black leather gloves. “Now, tell me the truth of this grand gesture about which my father has hinted.”
“He told you?” Roman said, with a bit of disappointment.
“Not so much told me, rather implied that you were concocting some scheme to win my favor.”
“Is that possible?”
“Hmm,” she said. “Englishmen.” She pulled on her other glove. “I haven’t been riding since Antonio was born. It is much easier to travel by carriage when one has an infant.”
“He will be riding soon enough.”
She laughed and glanced up. “He’s not even a year old, Roman.”
“I will be here to teach him. You’re not to worry.”
“Let us ride. I have a full morning planned.”
“I’m surprised you could fit in the time.”
“The weather is perfect, even if the company is not.”
Roman placed a hand over his heart. “Ever the precise marksman.”
Shelene led the way outside. When she saw the horses, she gasped. “Oh, Roman. Arabians? They are magnificent.” She gripped the bridle of the nearest horse and then leaned into the horse’s shoulder, patting its neck. “What a gorgeous girl.” She dipped beneath the horse’s neck and stood between them. “Incredible. I’ve never seen such a perfectly matched pair.”
“I’m told they are from the Godolphin Arabian. They’re yours.”
“Grand gesture, indeed.” She smiled, a bit one-sided and with just a hint of pleasure. He knew she was thrilled with the gift.
“Take your pick. I thought we could take the trail along the valley stream then up to the north pasture.”
She gripped the saddle horn and swung up with ease, her skirt billowing then settling around her. She usually used a step-up box. With this level of excitement, there was no need for Roman’s help. He mounted as well and reined his horse away from the house. “I hope you can keep up,” he said.
They set off at an easy pace, the horses running side by side in an easy lope until they reached the rockier, downward portion of the trail. Roman followed Shelene, enjoying the smooth, graceful way she rode. She was a daughter of Spain, her English half rejected, forgotten, buried. He had a better understanding now how she’d hated her two years in London. Without him. Without her father. And she would always blame England for taking her mother from her.
Shelene pulled her horse to a slower gait, allowing Roman to catch up and ride beside her.
“Remember the first time we rode together?” she asked. “I was wildly in love with the handsome, young son of an English duke. So mysterious. So dangerous. And promising me I was the only girl he loved.”
“So, what you are saying is that nothing’s really changed.”
She laughed. “I’m not wildly in love anymore,” she said.
“I’m not dangerous or mysterious anymore either, but you are still the only girl I love.”
“And two Arabians are supposed to proclaim that love? Roman, you don’t believe me. That is only going to make the coming months and years very difficult. I won’t object to your being Antonio’s father, but I will no longer be your wife.”
“Are you seeking an annulment or divorce? Surely Father Etienne and the Church will frown upon that. And, of course, your husband will vehemently oppose such an action.”
“It can be done, even though it will take time.”
“Perhaps you are right. Afterward, I could find another Spanish wife to shower with gifts while she bears me more beautiful sons and daughters.”
“Be sure to tell her beforehand that you will likely break her heart with broken promises.”
“Is that the reason you will cite in your divorce petition?But, Holy Father, he broke his word to me. That was never my intention and you know it.”
