Page 38 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

Yet she was keeping herself from him the same way she was keeping herself from the world.

He couldn’t let that continue, even if it meant no more kisses, even if it meant she’d resent him for coercing her into today’s outing.

For Christ’s sake, the accident had already stolen enough from her. He refused to let her willingly surrender anything more.

He smiled as the two approached. “Lady Clara, good afternoon.”

Anger darkened her face. He wisely ignored the glare she shot him as he gestured for Thomas to put her down on a spindle bench just inside the doorway.

Except for the horses who curiously hung their large heads out into the aisle over their stall doors and reminded Michael of gossipy old hens at society parties, the stables were empty. Exactly as he’d wanted them. He’d sent the grooms to the house for the afternoon, to make themselves at home in the servants’ hall with bottomless bowls of Cook’s beef stew. He knew that convincing her to go riding with him would be difficult enough. He didn’t need anyone present to make her feel self-conscious.

Michael dismissed Thomas with a nod. The man hurried back to the house as quickly as he could to escape the icy air and the even colder stares Clara shot after him.

Then she leveled her gaze on Michael. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping you to have a fun afternoon.” He grinned easily at her despite the effect of narrowing her eyes almost to slits.

“Really? And here I thought you were attempting to kidnap me.”

“Not kidnapping.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Horseback riding through some of the most beautiful countryside in England.”

Her mouth fell open with stunned surprise. Her wide eyes darted to the two horses standing saddled and ready in the aisle. “You expect me…to goriding?”

“Yes.”

She gaped at him as if he’d just sprung a second head. “You’re mad!”

Quite possibly.“People go riding all the time. It’s not unusual.”

She arched a brow. “But I’m a woman.”

“I’ve suspected that,” he answered deadpan.

She glared at him. “That means I ride sidesaddle.”

“I’ve suspected that, too.”

Her first reply to that was a sharp, irritated breath before she explained, slowly and carefully, as if he truly were out of his mind, “I cannot ride sidesaddle with a bad leg.”

“Of course you can.”

“I cannot bend my right leg to rest it across the saddle.” Her voice took on an exasperated tone. He hated that he was causing her pain, but there was no way around this argument. The only way forward was through it. “Even if I could, I don’t have any muscles left in that leg. I’d never be able to grip the pommel with it, and I’d fall right off the first time the horse shook itself.”

“Not if you have the right saddle.” He couldn’t help a self-satisfied grin. “And I’ve had the perfect saddle created for you.”

Her disbelieving gaze followed where he gestured toward the grey mare he’d carefully chosen for her first ride.

“I asked the saddler to reverse it,” he explained quietly. “Instead of putting your right leg over the front pommel and your left in a stirrup, this saddle is built so that you put your left leg across the pommel and let your right dangle down into the stirrup. You’ll grip with your left thigh.” He nodded at it. “A special piece of stiff leather extends from the saddle all the way down to the stirrup to keep your right leg in place, yet it’s open in the front. It will give you stability in the saddle but allow you to break free of the horse in case you fall.”

He held up his hand to stop any protest before she could utter it.

“Not that you’ll fall,” he clarified. “I don’t expect that to happen at all. But if you do lose your balance, the saddler’s added an extra pommel you can grab to keep your seat.” He winked at her. “That was my idea.”

She stared at the horse and whispered, with guilt lacing her voice, “You went to all that trouble…”

“It was no trouble.” It was a hell of a lot trouble, actually, but he didn’t regret a moment of it. He’d walk through hot coals to make her happy. “Our saddler specializes in custom work.”

She rolled her eyes, not believing him, and drawled, “How convenient.”