SOPHIE WOKE IN a cloud. Too much champagne, I think.

Easing her way out of bed, she made her way to the corner of the room and, as promised, Nona had moved what she considered to be a modern commode into the room. It looked like a dining room chair with arms, but when Sophie lifted the hidden lid, she stared down at the porcelain bowl nestled inside.

Still, seriously gross.

She did her thing, then washed her hands using the water on her dresser. She heard Christine speaking with Betty outside her door, and then a quiet knock.

“Come in.”

“Good morning, Sophie, how are you feeling after the late night?” Christine asked.

“A little groggy but otherwise fine. How about you? What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock. Is there anything you’d like to do? I’m not scheduled to volunteer today, so I can show you around if you like.”

Sophie slipped a wayward lock behind her ear. “You know what I would really love to do?”

“What’s that?”

“Ride. I haven’t ridden a horse in a really long time, and since Nona and Michael’s stables are full of beautiful equine flesh, it seems a shame not to.”

Christine nodded with a smile. “I’ll have our groom saddle them for us. I think Elizabeth put a riding habit in the pile of clothes she brought over yesterday for you.”

Locating the habit in the bottom of the wardrobe, Christine helped Sophie dress. The girls made their way out to the stables. As they rounded the corner, Sophie froze.

Shit! Sidesaddle. How did I forget about sidesaddle? Of course, women in the nineteenth century wouldn’t ride any other way. How am I going to get out of this one?

Sophie was a proficient rider, having won several ribbons in competition, but she’d never tried sidesaddle before.

“Is anything amiss?”

“I have never ridden sidesaddle,” Sophie whispered.

Christine frowned. “I thought you were experienced.”

“I am. However, I ride astride.”

Christine let out a quiet gasp. “Well, you cannot ride that way here.”

“I’m aware of that.” They stood for a few minutes, Sophie’s mind racing with what to do, her need to ride superseding her trepidation of a new saddle. “How hard can it really be?”

“I have never ridden any other way, so I can’t answer that,” Christine admitted.

Sophie shrugged. “Well, I need to ride. It’s been too long.”

Christine led her to where a groom stood with their awaiting horses. Christine mounted from the mounting block first and then the groom led Sophie’s horse over so that she could climb on. Standing next to a magnificent chestnut gelding, her palms sweating and heart racing, Sophie slid onto the saddle, hooked her leg over the pommel, and arranged her riding skirts as the groom held her stirrup. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her foot in and then took up her reins.

“Are you ready?” Christine asked.

Sophie nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They took it slow, riding leisurely over the vast countryside, Sophie in awe of a land that could very well soon be ravaged by an unfinished war.

She felt free. To Sophie, there was nothing like the elation she felt when riding. The troubles of the world just seemed to disappear when she was on the back of a horse. She decided she wanted to go a little faster but without “thigh power,” she wasn’t completely sure how to get the horse moving. She gave it a good swift kick and nothing happened, so used the crop to get him moving from the other side.

Bad idea.

All she could think about as the landscape flew by, was how the heck do I stop this thing? She pulled on the reins, but that didn’t work, and she didn’t want to cut the horse’s mouth up with the bit. She couldn’t place her rear in the right position without the use of both of her legs to stop him, so she just hung on for dear life and hoped the horse would eventually tire.

Hearing pounding hooves behind her, and hoping she hadn’t scared Christine’s horse, Sophie gasped when a very strong arm grabbed around her middle, and she was pulled onto someone’s lap. Looking back, concerned for the horse, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw him slow down and turn back toward the group, reins dragging on the ground.

Once both horses had stopped, the strong arms gently lowered her to the ground, and she looked up. Into the face of Richard Madden.

Of course.

She really shouldn’t be surprised.

Christine rushed up, her horse panting with the exertion used to try and catch her. She quickly dismounted and came over to check on Sophie. “Are you all right, Sophie?”

“Yes, I think so. I’m really sorry if I scared you.” She smiled at Richard. “Thank you so much for your help.”

“What did you think you were doing, if you didn’t know how to ride?” Richard snapped. “Samson is a difficult horse and you had no business riding him.”

Sophie’s hackles rose. “I can ride Mr. Madden, I’m simply unaccustomed to a side-saddle.”

“A proper lady wouldn’t ride any other way.”

“Well, then I suppose I’m not a proper lady,” she snapped. “Not to mention, Mr. Madden, if you truly thought I was, you wouldn’t continue to manhandle me at every turn.”

Richard smiled slowly, a little like a shark, and stared, fixated on her chest. Glancing down, Sophie noticed the bodice of her habit, slightly askew and missing a button. She couldn’t stop the blush stealing her cheeks as she attempted to fix her clothing.

“Mrs. Ford, perhaps you might want to take a few riding lessons to help you feel more comfortable on a horse. If you’d like, I would be happy to oblige.”

The muscles in Sophie’s shoulders crawled, and she felt as though steam would escape from her head like a cartoon character as she fisted her hands at her side in an attempt not to hit the man. “I bet you would, Mr. I’m-a-Big-Man-and-I-Need-to-Save-the-Poor-Weak-Women-of-the-World. Well, you know what? You can just take a flying leap off a very high—”

“What Sophie means, Richard,” Christine laid a hand on her arm, “is that she is very grateful you came along in the nick of time. I’m certain that thank you is on the tip of her tongue, isn’t it, Sophie?”

Sophie’s unladylike grunt received admonishment from Christine in the form of raised eyebrows.

“Well, Mrs. Ford, the offer stands if you would like instruction in the equestrian arts. I’m available on most Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and would be happy to assist.”

At his continued appraisal of her chest, Sophie turned her back on him and stomped back towards the Wades house.

“Mrs. Ford?” Richard called.

“What?” Sophie snapped but didn’t break stride.

“I believe you have forgotten your horse, ma’am.”

Patronizing, son of a...

She knew he threw that little ma’am in there to irritate her. What she really wanted to do right now was throw a good temper tantrum and perhaps find a doll she could draw his face on and poke pins into. Turning around, she made her way back to Richard and Christine, snatched the reins out of his hands, and stomped back towards the stables as she muttered under her breath. Richard and Christine followed at a slight distance. She felt somewhat vindicated when she heard their conversation.

“Richard, is it really necessary to antagonize her so?” Christine asked.

Richard bowed his head in contrition. “I cannot seem to resist.”

“Well, it’s unseemly—and entirely unlike you,” Christine admonished. “Since when did you become so ungentlemanly?”

Richard sighed. “I apologize.”

Once they arrived at the Wades barn, Richard spoke with the groom, and asked him to rub down Sophie’s horse. As the young lad made his way to tend to the horse, Richard cornered Sophie. “Mrs. Ford, I am truly sorry if I offended you. It was not my intention. Could we please call a truce?”

Sophie glared at him.

“Mrs. Ford?”

“I’m thinking!”

“I see.” Taking a deep breath, he smiled – less like a shark this time, as he folded his hands behind his back. “I have an idea.”

Sophie continued to glare at him without comment.

“Tomorrow is Tuesday, and I happen to have the afternoon free. Why don’t you and I go for a ride? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

Christine took Sophie’s arm. “Richard, give us a moment, please?”

She pulled Sophie further into the darkened stables. “Sophie, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but you will be alone tomorrow afternoon. Richard has been a friend of our family for years and I have to admit, he’s acting somewhat out of character at the present time, but I have the utmost faith that you would be safe with him. You might even enjoy his company.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I know things are confusing at the moment. I know you miss Jamie, but at some point, you have to realize that you’re here, and I don’t know if that will change.”

Sophie paced the small space. “I know. But why do I have to spend any time with him? I’d be happy to read a book and hang out at home.”

Christine clasped her hands in front of her and let out a quiet sigh. “Richard would be a great champion, Sophie.”

Sophie’s stomach dropped. “A champion? Why would I need a champion?”

“You are a young woman alone. Beautiful, but without a past,” Christine whispered. “You won’t make it far without a husband to protect you.”

Sophie’s gasp echoed the rafters. “Are you saying that I have to marry that horrible man? I’m already married.”

Christine took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You must be realistic, Sophie. You don’t know where your husband is. He could be dead or lost to you forever, and without a man to protect you, you are at the mercy of someone who may not treat you as well as Richard Madden.”

Bile rose unbidden. She couldn’t do it. She could never marry someone she didn’t love, even if she’d not already married the love of her life. And she certainly couldn’t marry someone she despised. “I will not betray my husband.”

Christine shook her head. “I’m not asking you to. I am simply suggesting that Richard would be a great protector. Will you give him a chance while you sort out your personal business?”

“I don’t want, or need, a protector. You don’t have one and seem to be doing fine.”

“I’ve lived here most of my life and have my family. I also have Andrew. No one would cross my brother or do anything to offend Peter Martin’s widow.”

Sophie’s eyes filled with tears.

“You have Michael’s protection, Sophie. I don’t want to suggest he wouldn’t defend you. However, there were several men asking after you last night, and I think it concerned Michael.”

Sophie rubbed her forehead, a headache rapidly approaching. “Why were men asking about me?”

“Because you are beautiful and very young, Sophie.”

“I’m not that young,” Sophie whispered frantically. “I’m twenty-six.”

“But you look much, much younger, dear. There are many lonely men who have been at war for too long. None of whom are near the caliber of man that Richard is.”

Sophie shrugged. “Just tell them I’m married.”

“That will work for a time, but I still think you should get to know Richard. He’s wonderful company.”

“Then you date him—or marry him—or whatever!”

Christine chuckled. “He has never had any interest in me.”

“But he has interest in me?” She couldn’t understand why the thought upset her so violently.

Christine slid her arm around her shoulders. “Sophie, don’t fret. You don’t need to make any decisions right now.”

“There is something not right about him, Christine.”

“Whatever do you mean? Richard’s a wonderful man. If you spend any time with him, you’ll see that as well.”

Sophie wondered if her feelings were due to her emotional upheaval, rather than fact. She didn’t really know the man, but Christine did. So she tried to approach the situation objectively. Perhaps Christine was right and she was overreacting. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and made her way out of the stables. “All right, Mr. Madden, tomorrow will be fine.”

“Wonderful, Mrs. Ford. I’ll see you at two.”

Sophie nodded, and she and Christine made their way back to the house.

Miriam joined them for dinner and Sophie enjoyed her immensely. She was a woman in her mid-sixties and full of energy. Christine had moved in with Miriam after Peter died, and it seemed to work out well for both of the women.

The rest of the evening was spent in the parlor, the same room she was brought to after she was found. Was it really only a few days since she arrived in the nineteenth century?

As the night came to a close, Christine and Miriam said their good-byes. Sophie wasn’t sure what she was going to do until two o’clock the next day, having already finished her novel, so she snuck back to the library for another look and then made her way to her room.

Once inside, Sophie tried her best to concentrate on her pages swimming before her, but she had miscalculated exactly how much light a candle actually gave off. Not quite enough to read—actually, not quite enough to do anything other than avoid tripping over one’s own feet. After about thirty minutes, she gave up.

Blowing out the candle, Sophie climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity.