.
In retrospect, Lacey had to admit that riding had been a mistake. She clung to the back of the horse that had been saddled for her, one hand holding onto the reins and the other helplessly grasping onto the edge of the saddle.
For all that most well-born ladies spent at least some of their time on a horse, Lacey had really only been on horseback a handful of times. She'd always favored more bookish pursuits, and for the first time, she regretted it.
The only reason she had broken her lifelong rule of traveling everywhere on foot or by carriage was that breakfast had been unbearable. Her mother was still regarding Robert as if he might transform into a snake at any moment, and Davis couldn't seem to stop himself from vainly trying to get her attention with poetry or literature references. When Robert had suggested a ride, she had jumped at the chance.
“Just to the edge of the property, mind,” Constance had said, a warning in her voice. “Heaven only knows what would be said if they caught you riding with a strange gentleman on the main roads.”
“They'd say 'lucky gentleman,'” Robert supplied cheerfully.
Lacey coughed on her bite of toast.
Constance glared, and Davis looked as if his heart was breaking, but it didn't matter, because now they were out under the bright blue summer sky. Everything would be amazing if she could just get over her fear of dashing her brains out on the ground.
Robert pulled his mount up next to her, slowing from a canter to match her tolerant horse's walk. “Is everything all right, Lacey?”
“Do you mean with the plan, or do you mean, for example, in the grand scheme of things?”
“Er, I meant with your horse. You look a little pale.”
Lacey was mounted sidesaddle, using the popular two-horned riding saddle that was these days considered a requirement for riding by young ladies of quality. One knee tucked under the bottom curved horn that jutted from the side of the saddle while the other knee looped over the top, and no matter how tightly she squeezed her legs, she never felt as safe on her horse as she thought she was supposed to.
“I'm fine, just ever so slightly terrified.”
“And here I thought you were meant to be a brawling country lass who could ride horses and wrestle pigs.”
“At least if I were wrestling pigs, I would be closer to the ground. And please. Do you think I could be that good at chess without spending so much time indoors reading and researching?”
“That made more sense when you were an old woman. But are you all right? You're moving at a snail's pace and you do look a little ill.”
“I'm as fine as I can be, and far finer than I would be if we returned to the house. Shall we keep going? There's a stream that cuts across the edge of the property ahead.”
No matter how sore she was getting from being on the saddle, Lacey dreaded the idea of returning to the house more. Still, she felt a certain kind of relief when they came to the small stream she had mentioned, protected from the greater world by a small but thick stand of poplar trees.
When Lacey went to dismount, however, she found that her legs had grown ridiculously stiff after the time she had spent riding. She groaned when she untwisted her leg from the saddle and sat with both her legs dangling over her horse's side.
“Do you need some help?” he asked,
a teasing note in his voice.
She nearly told him no, but then common sense won out over pride.
“I would very much like that,” she said with all the dignity she could muster.
After tethering his own mount, he came to stand next to hers.
“Hand me the reins, and just slide off the saddle. I won't let you fall, I promise.”
She did as he said, and with a deep breath, she slid right off the saddle and into his arms. They stood there for a long moment, feeling the warmth from each other's bodies, utterly still. Lacey was certain she could hear her heart beat a fast rhythm in her chest.
With a short laugh, Robert stepped away.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”
He cursed when she pitched forward with a cry, and she would have taken a very nasty fall indeed if he hadn't stepped forward again to catch her.
“Dear God, what happened to you?”
“I can't help it if I'm not an athlete! The ride took a lot out of me.”
She hung on to him until her muscles had warmed up enough to allow her to walk, even if she had to take small steps. Robert went to tether her mount next to his own, and Lacey made her way to the mossy bank with small and tentative steps. It took some doing, but she finally managed to lower herself to a sitting position on the bank with a sigh of relief.
“You are just a mess, aren't you?”
She turned her head to see Robert settling down next to her. It occurred to her again how very handsome he was, how he looked nothing like what she expected him to.
“Maybe. But I am not your mess, so I suppose you can cope.”
She had meant it in a joking way, but there was a quality to Robert's stillness that made her look up. Whatever she had sensed, however, if anything, he covered up quickly with a smile.
“No, I suppose you are not. A man taking you as his own would also be liable for the care of your broken cats, too. One of them found their way into my bedroom this morning and woke me up by climbing on my chest and purring fit to wake the devil.”
“My cats would be a credit to whatever household is lucky enough to have them. Which one was it?”
“The one that leaked a bucket of drool on my bedclothes before I noticed?”
“Oh, that's the biggest Nod. That makes sense; he always greets the guests like that.”
“Well, that's utterly charming.”
“You needn't be so critical, my lord. He can only show affection in the ways that he knows how.”
“Robert.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Not my lord. Robert. If we're going to pretend to be together, that seems natural, yes?”
Lacey bit her lip. She didn't know why it felt so intimate calling Robert by his first name. Calling him 'my lord' kept a barrier between them, but he was right. It didn't feel very romantic.
“All right. Robert then. I suppose we should take advantage of the solitude to figure out a few other things about our romance.”
Robert lifted a sardonic eyebrow at her. “I already know about your quilt collection and your identical cats with the same name. That already feels more intimate than most of the London couples I know.”
“Well, that's unfortunate. I just think that if we're going to be affianced, even if it is a fib, we should know more about each other.”
Robert rolled his eyes at her, but he nodded. “Go ahead. Ask me what you want, and I'll do the same.”
“All right. What's your favorite color?”
It was the first thing that had popped into her mind, but from the look Robert gave her, she could tell he was unimpressed.
“I'm a grown adult with no favorite color to speak of. Is that the depth of our relationship?”
“All right, fine. Who do you trust most in the world?”
He stared at her, and it struck her all at once how very personal that question was. She blushed a little, realizing that even if it was true, she didn't want to hear about past lovers or other people who might have been important to him.
“Never mind, that was silly.”
“No, it's a good question.”
It was so good that Robert sat in deep thought for several minutes. As he did so, he rubbed her hand gently, making the skin tingle a little. When he stopped, she was instantly sorry he did and then wondered why she was so sorry.
Robert's voice was flat when he finally answered her. “It's you.”
“You're not serious.”
“I was as surprised to realize it as you are to hear it, believe me. But it really is you.”
“I think you are going to need to explain that one.”
“Well, my parents are long dead, and though I have friends I care about a great deal, they are all... hm, shall we say, a little self-involved? A good friend of mine, Thomas Martin, recently went through some highly dangerous nonsense with an heiress, and his sister, who is delightful, also happens to be famous for running roughshod over the entirety of London.”
“So, I am most trustworthy because... I am boring?”
“No! I didn't mean it like that. But nearly every week for the better part of a decade, I could look forward to getting a letter from you. I'm not fool enough to think that there was nothing else going on in your life, but somehow, you made the time to write to me. You told me what was going on in your life, and I told you about mine. There's a kind of consistency there that, yes, does make me trust you.”
His answer was so heartfelt that Lacey was momentarily struck dumb. She blushed a little, squeezing his hand tight, and finally, she nodded.
“I am glad that I have your trust, my lord, and I shall endeavor to be worthy of it.”
Robert smiled gamely. “I can't imagine a world where you are not. Now tell me why you decided to agree to my suit. I assume that I am the one who asked you to be my bride and not the other way around.”
“Well, there are many reasons why I would want to marry you.” Lacey kept her voice as dry and academic as she could to hide the little tremor that shook it.
“Let's hear some of them, then.”
“Well, you are obviously very trustworthy and consistent yourself, fine traits to find in a husband. And, of course, you are kind. That comes through in your letters. And with your estates, I will obviously be well-taken care of and, of course, you are a man of excellent breeding.”
Was that disappointment she saw in Robert's eyes? “Well, of course. Those are good reasons for us to wed.”
A tiny part of her whispered for her to let it be. It would be better if they stuck to the bare minimum of their charade. The more details that went into their lies, the more likely it was that they would fail to remember something at a vital juncture. Somehow, though, it was too hard to let that look of disappointment stand.
“You are also very funny. Your letters made me laugh so often, and after my father died, sometimes I would read them over and over again, just so I would not have to think about what else was going on around me.”
Robert's expression softened immensely.
“Truly?”
“And, of course, you know that you are handsome.”
His grin turned downright devilish, and Lacey felt that heat rise between them again.
“Am I?”
“Don't be vain. Of course, you are. And kind, and sweet, and many other good things.”
“I think I would like very much to hear about those good things.”
Robert leaned a little closer, and Lacey was very aware that she should stop him. She had never paid much attention when the vicar spoke about temptation, but now she realized that Robert was temptation made flesh. However, all she could do was lean in toward his kiss, already wanting more.
Their lips had barely touched, however, when Robert moved and knocked her leg, making her yelp in surprise and pain.
Robert drew back immediately, frowning down at her.
“What's the matter?”
“Nothing!”
“That sounded like pain. Let me see.”
In a matter of moments, Robert was on his knees in front of her, and she gasped as he pulled up her dress.
“Don't worry, pretty, I'm not going to harm you. Good God, Lacey, look at you.”
He sat back on his heels, and when she looked down to see what had shocked him so badly, she winced. There were dark bruises on her legs where the tack had dug into her pale flesh, and they showed up as boldly as if they had been painted on.
“I bruise very easily, I'm afraid.”
“You look as if you were dragged behind a panicked horse.”
“I am sure it is not that bad.”
“Here, maybe we can do something to help it heal up.”
Before she could stop him, Robert was up and rummaging in his saddlebag, coming back with a small cake of what looked like tallow. When he warmed it between his hands, a pleasantly strong herbal smell rose from it.
“Half of the gentlemen in London carry this concoction when they go hunting. If you take a fall, it can help make sure that you're not limping at the dinner party after the hunt.”
Kneeling in front of her again, Robert smoothed the slightly greasy substance over her bruises, his fingers firm but stopping short of bringing her pain. She supposed this was exactly the sort of temptation and ruin they so often preached about, but though there was a thread of sensuality in every touch that passed between her and Robert, this felt more like care, a kind of sweetness that awoke a deep tugging in her heart.
“There,” Robert said finally. “That should help. Does it feel all right?”
“It tingles a little. Perhaps it is a little warm?”
“Good. That means it’s working.”
Robert seemed to realize that her skirt was hiked up to her thighs and he had his hands on her calf at the exact same moment that she did. However, instead of lowering her dress, he leaned his head forward, and she shivered when he lay a soft kiss on her knee. Lacey had never thought her knee was a profoundly sensitive part of her before, but his lips, soft and warm, with just a trace of stubble as he brushed his chin across her skin, made her shiver.
Without thinking of what she was doing, she reached out to touch his dark hair. The strands were crisp and cool and sleek in her fingers, and when she rubbed his scalp with her fingertips, he purred and nuzzled her thigh.
“You feel so good, Lacey.”
There was no telling how far they might have gone if they both hadn't heard the beat of hooves approaching. When Davis appeared at the edge of the grove, Robert was as his horse, putting away the ointment, and Lacey was endeavoring to look as innocent as she could with her skirts demurely tucked around her.
“Your lady mother wishes to let you know that supper is at eight.”
“Thank you, Lord Exter. We will attend her at eight sharp.”
“Davis. I have told you before, it is Davis.”
When Robert reminded her to call him by his first name, it sent a warm feeling through her. When Davis did it, it immediately made her bristle.
She fought down the reaction and merely smiled politely at him.
“Of course. We should ride back to the house anyway. It'll be late before we know it.”
Lacey wasn't sure why, but she was distinctly grateful when Robert kept his horse between hers and Davis’ mounts on the ride back to Baling House.