Page 18 of It's a British Christmas

“Oh, what a beauty!” Merry ran her gloved hand over the magnificent horse’s velvet nose. “What is her name?”

“Aphrodite, miss.”

She beamed. “A perfect dub.”

“Good morning, Merry. I must admit this is not my favorite time of day.” Lord Brandon’s drawn face and bloodshot eyes confirmed his words.

“I could ride by myself. I’m an experienced horsewoman.” Her gaze roamed his face. “You do look as though you could use more sleep.”

“No. It would not be a good idea for you to ride alone. You’re not familiar with the land, and I would hate for something to happen to you.”

“Don’t concern yourself, brother, I will be more than happy to escort Miss Chambers on her ride.” Dressed in the height-of-fashion riding clothes, Penrose strode toward them, pulling on tan leather gloves.

Merry’s stomach clenched. The light of day only intensified his good looks. Had those full lips actually ravished hers last night? His glance at her was warm, without the hint of disapproval she’d always seen before.

Be careful. He is a duke, and you can’t afford to allow your thoughts to wander in that direction.

“Miss Chambers would you mind terribly if I excuse myself?” Lord Brandon’s eyes pleaded with her.

“Of course she doesn’t mind. You best search out Cook for one of her tonics.” The duke turned to Ballard. “Is Tafoya ready?”

Merry stood, her mouth agape, as Lord Brandon gave her a short two-finger salute and hurried to the house.

“Excuse me, Your Grace, but I would prefer to answer for myself.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t even know, do you?” She shook her head. “Lord Brandon just asked me if I minded him not riding with me, and you answered.”

“Do you mind him not accompanying you?” He looked genuinely confused.

“That is not the point.”

His eyes flashed with annoyance. “What is the point?”

“Never mind. This conversation is a waste of words.” Before he could assist her, she stepped on the block and settled on the sidesaddle, adjusting the deep blue skirts of her riding habit over her legs.

Penrose gracefully mounted his horse and took up the reins. “Are you ready? I wouldn’t want to start off without asking.”

Merry smirked. “Yes. I’m ready.”

They rode side-by-side down the path leading from the house, neither one aware of the narrowed eyes watching them from the schoolroom window.

Despite the cold, late fall air, the sun shone in the rarely clear sky, reaffirming Penrose’s decision to begin taking morning rides. Lord, he missed this. For a while he could forget his duties and just enjoy a ride with a beautiful woman at his side.

And beautiful she was. Her velvet riding habit hugged her curves delightfully. The deep blue brought out the color of her eyes, which sparkled with pleasure as she inhaled deeply, causing his attention to shift to her breasts. Just the right size for his hands, he imagined their silky softness.

“Do you ride every day, Your Grace?”

Her question drew him from his reverie. “No. In fact this is the first time I’ve ridden for pleasure in a while.” He slanted a look at her. “I thought we agreed last night to dispense with ‘Your Grace’?”

“’Tis not proper. You are my employer.”

“Not so. You are employed by my mother who, as I’m sure she’s told you with a great deal of satisfaction, has her own funds to do with as she wishes.”

“True. But I am not of your world.”

He grinned. “You sound like Miss Jennings.”