For a moment he imagined the smile was for him. It held something mysterious, a smile that invited a man to sink into shared delights. His fanciful notions were dashed the moment she spotted him. Her smile erased in a blink, replaced by wariness. He chuckled as he recognized the exact moment she decided to canter right past him as if he were unseen. Without giving her the opportunity, he urged his horse forward, blocking her path.
She stared at him, the memory of their last encounter swirling in her leery gaze.
She wore a deep blue jacket with a matching split skirt that allowed her to ride astride. Scandalous! Her high-collared blouse was of the finest silk and the purest white. A jaunty hat perched rakishly atop her glorious red curls. Her riding habit molded her curves and accentuated the supple way she sat her mount. A vivid image of her seated on top of him, riding him with that same slow, sensual grace strangled his breath and shafted heat through his cock.
“It is not every day one sees a young lady in Hyde Park riding astride,” he observed drily. “I must say, Miss Peppiwell, you shock me.” Clearly, he wasn’t.
He was pleased by her tentative smile. It still held mistrust, but at least it was a smile and not a scowl. He wondered if she saw the covert glances and disapproval in the matronly frowns thrown her way. No shade of reticence or embarrassment came from her at their studied disapproval. He admired her for it. He shifted in his seat.
“In Boston, I had the most agreeable gelding. Our home sat on over five hundred acres and when I rode him I felt so free,” she ventured.
“You don’t feel free in Hyde Park?” He gazed at her, curious at the longing he detected in her tone.
“In London? You jest, my lord.”
He glanced around the park at the morning riders. He imagined London to be a great melting pot of poor and rich, slums and grandeur, restrictions and decadence. He supposed it did have its rules, though. Especially for young ladies.
“You are most welcome to visit my estate in Derbyshire anytime you wish,” he invited. He frowned thoughtfully, a bit surprised at his impulsiveness. He had never invited a female to his estate before.
Her gaze turned icy. Had he managed to shock her at last?
His laughter spilled out as he read the censure in her whiskey eyes that seemed intent on inebriating him. The memory of their encounter curled around them, tempting him to drag her from the horse and devour her lips. That would definitely shock her.
He shifted again, his riding breeches growing ever tighter. He wondered if she noticed his particular discomfort.
“My intentions are solely honorable, Phillipa. My brother and I own one of the finest stables in England, with over a thousand acres for your riding pleasure. I invite you to ride at your whim, with a horse that befits your skill and grace.”
Her eyes searched his face intently. In them, he clearly saw her desire to accept. He watched the struggle chase across her face. In the end, the coolness won.
A shame.
“I thank you for such a kind offer, my lord. I will discuss it with my family, and send a note when we are available. They will be much obliged, I’m sure.”
She glanced over her shoulder at a lady who pranced toward them. He was familiar with the Earl of Merryweather’s wife, but only from a distance. He waited calmly as Lady Merryweather dazzled him with a radiant smile upon her approach. He tried not to be blinded by the bright pink habit she wore that was so at odds with her gleaming copper tresses.
He noted the resemblance in the elegance of their carriage and their hair. But there it ended. Lady Merryweather greeted him with a bright smile.
“Lord Anthony, are you acquainted with my aunt, the Countess of Merryweather. Aunt Florence, may I introduce you to the Honorable Lord Anthony Thornton,” Phillipa murmured.
Lady Merryweather’s head bobbed. “Lord Anthony, what a pleasure to meet you.”
He inclined his head to Lady Merryweather, watching the speculation grow in her eyes. He gritted his teeth. He had no doubt that she was hearing church bells in her head. He noted Phillipa’s discomfort, and waited for her to fill the awkward silence.
“Lord Anthony invited me to Derbyshire to view his excellent stables,” Phillipa said.
“The invitation extends to the whole family, of course, Lady Merryweather,” he quickly clarified. He saw Phillipa swallow a smirk.
The radiance of Lady Merryweather’s smile almost blinded him. He cursed inwardly. He wanted no idle speculation. Not until he was firm in his decision to court Phillipa. The rousing sounds of hooves clomping in his direction made him ease Thor around.
Lord Hoyt approached, looking miffed and severely buttoned up. “Lord Anthony,” he greeted with false joviality. His eyes pinched as he saw Phillipa was sitting astride.