Lenore laughed and fondly stroked the mare’s withers. “An appropriate name.”
“I thought so,” he agreed, peering at her from under his brows as he smiled with boyish charm. “She’s something special, just like you. You’ll look good on her.”
Lenore sighed as Malcolm’s order came back to mind. “But I can’t accept her. It would cause too much trouble.”
Ashton had been expecting the reply. “I’ll keep her over here where she’ll be safe. Whenever you’d like to admire her…or ride her…she’ll be ready for you. At your convenience, madam.”
Lenore was sorely tempted. “Perhaps if I just borrowed her from time to time, Malcolm would let me ride.” She shook her head, rejecting the idea, then settled her hands on her hips with an exasperated sigh. “I’m getting so bored in the house, I need to get out, and what better way than to ride?” A sudden inquisitive smile replaced her frown. “Can you have her saddled for me…now?”
One of the guards stepped forward. “Mrs. Sinclair, I don’t think you should…”
“Bah!” Lenore promptly silenced his unfinished suggestion. “I’ll do what I want to, and if Malcolm doesn’t like it…then, that’s too bad.”
Grinning, Ashton took the mare’s reins and began to lead her to where Hickory stood waiting outside the smaller tent, while the lady went racing back to the house in a rather undignified manner, lifting her skirts well past her ankles.
“Meghan!” she called as she tore up the stairs. “Meghan, fetch me a habit. I’m going riding!”
In no time Lenore was back, dressed in a summer habit of pearl gray, with a white jabot tumbling in lace-trimmed layers from her throat. As she crossed the boundary line, she took note that Ashton’s stallion was also saddled and stood a short distance away where Hickory held him in check. Ashton waved the stranger farewell and stepped to Heart o’Mine, lifting Lenore onto her back while the cabin boy stood at the horse’s head.
“We’d better see how much you remember,” Ashton advised as he gave her the reins. “The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”
Lenore complied with his request and tested the mare’s performance through a walk, trot, and canter, all within a wide circle between the house and tent. To her pleasure, both she and the mare seemed in capable order, and Ashton swung up onto his stallion, adding his approval. Much to the fretting concern of the two guards, she rode away from the house, leading Ashton down along the shore and away from their prying eyes.
Her spirits lifted to immeasurable heights as she enjoyed the outing, the mare, and the company of her escort. There were so many things she wanted to talk with Ashton about, and he seemed as anxious as she to discuss the details of her childbearing state, wanting to know when the babe was due and where the pregnancy might have begun.
“Before we left for New Orleans, I think,” she murmured, casting a wistful gaze in his direction. “You and Meghan are the only ones who know.”
“For heaven’s sake, don’t tell Malcolm,” Ashton warned. “At least, not while he’s in the house with you.” He hated to think what the other man might do to her. “You’d make me feel better about everything if you’d let me send him and his two buffoons away. You could stay in the house with your father if you wanted to, and I wouldn’t even ask you to allow me to move in…or press you to go home with me where you belong.”
Lenore tossed him another glance and laughed. “You’re already pressing me to do that.”
In roweling frustration Ashton settled back in the saddle. “All right! I admit it! And I try because I care!”
“Thank you,” she murmured with a gentle smile.
A muted groan came from him as her soft, grateful look went through him and stroked the strings of his heart. Was she aware of what she did to him when such loving tenderness was displayed in her face? “You turn me inside out, woman,” he complained with a helpless chuckle. “I am putty in your hands.”
Lenore shook her head negatively. “I don’t think so.” She glanced back over her shoulder, realizing they were now some distance from the house. “We’d better get back.” She giggled, relenting to the humor that set in when she remembered the two guards chafing as they watched her ride away. “I’m afraid if Malcolm gets home first, he may shoot his men.”
“Good riddance,” Ashton replied promptly.
“Oh, Ashton, you don’t mean that.” As he raised his brow in sharp disagreement, she burst into laughter again. “Perhaps I’m wrong.”
They had turned their mounts and were heading back when Ashton halted his horse by the edge of the water and swung down. Lenore reined in her mare and watched him in wonder as he strolled back along the wet sand where he had just passed. He paused and kicked the sand with his toe, then stooped quickly, grabbing up a tiny crustacean, which he brought back to her and presented in the palm of his hand.
“A flea crab,” he informed her, gently nudging the coin-sized creature with a finger.
“It looks frightened,” Lenore commented as the tiny thing clamped his legs close to his body.
“Aye, madam, that it is.” Ashton bent and brushed it from his hand, letting it go free on the sand again. Dusting his hands, he straightened and glanced up at her, then stilled as he found something in her eyes that he understood only too welclass="underline" the same sort of longing he had experienced himself much too often of late. Half afraid to move, he lowered a hand to her thigh and waited while she searched his face. Slowly, very slowly she leaned down to him and touched her lips to his. It was sweet bliss in the afternoon, a heady nectar that stirred his senses…and his heart, a soft reawakening of all his love and fondness for her.
“While the cat’s away…!” The caustic shout came from behind them, and they hastily drew apart. Looking around, they saw Malcolm sneering at them from the back of his stallion a short distance away. He prodded the animal forward and, reining up, pushed it between Lenore’s mount and Ashton, not caring how roughly the steed advanced upon the man. Ashton stumbled back, avoiding the heavy hooves of the nervously prancing horse. Coming to a halt, he faced the other, who had placed himself very protectively before Lenore. The broad face was full of venomous hatred as he stared down at Ashton.
“I told you to forget about buying my wife a horse.” Malcolm’s eyes were sharply piercing as he bent a glare on Lenore, and his growl came through clenched teeth: “And I told you not to accept the gift.”
“I haven’t…yet!” she retorted tartly. “I’m just using the mare for a time.”
“Well, you may use her no more,” Malcolm snapped and flung out an arm toward the house. “Get home…now! I’ll deal with you later.”
“I’ll go, but only because I was going in that direction anyway.” Lifting her chin loftily, Lenore complied with his wishes and left at a leisurely canter.
Malcolm turned back upon Ashton with a raging glower. “I know you’d like to lay my wife down and have your pleasure with her, but if you ever do, I’ll rip out your heart and feed it to the fish.”
“You’re welcome to try,” Ashton returned crisply.
Malcolm sneered. “I’m sure my men will be anxious to help.”
“Do they do everything you say?” Ashton probed.
“Of course,” Malcolm boasted. “I’ve known them for some years now, and I have no question concerning their loyalty.”
“Then I’d like to know what one of them was doing working on my steamer a couple or so years back.”
Malcolm stared agape at the man on the ground. “When was that?”
Ashton raised a brow sharply. “I’ve been trying to remember the precise time, but I know without a doubt he was there at one time, working for me.”
Malcolm sneered. “Obviously he didn’t like you well enough to continue.”
“Or else he had other motives in mind for quitting.”