Page 38 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

“Let’s slip out the side door,” Riordan whispered.

“Oh, could we?”

Riordan nodded toward Mary, who returned a smile as she headed down the aisle. Stepping out into the sunshine, Sabrina exhaled.

“It’s over with. After a bit of tittle-tattle over tea in various parlors and kitchens, everyone will move on with their lives and forget us,” Riordan said, his tone reassuring.

Sabrina had grown up in this area; it had been always a focus of gossip. Thankfully, her father had not attended Sunday services today. His attendance over the years had been sporadic and unpredictable. Move forward. No looking back.

“The farm is not far. A good stretch of the legs.”

“I could do with a pleasant constitutional,” Sabrina stated, remembering when she’d last ventured on a walk: the day she had discovered Riordan and his mesmerizing, melodic schoolmaster voice. A small smile curved about her mouth.

After arriving at the Walsh farm and exchanging introductions, the mare was fixed with a sidesaddle and Riordan helped Sabrina mount. His large hands grasped her on either side of her waist, and his touch seared. The sensation was growing in intensity with each contact. As she collected the reins, she patted the butterscotch-colored mare’s strong neck.

Riordan climbed onto his magnificent horse with relative ease. Pulling on the reins, he brought the gelding about to stand next to her. “The mare’s name is Goldie.”

“I can see why yours is named Grayson. He’s beautiful. The black mane offsets his dapple gray color.”

As if he had heard the compliment, the horse kicked the dirt with his front hoof and nickered, giving his head a shake. A giggle escaped her.

“And he is a bit of a show-off. Shall we head out? Start with a trot and work up to a canter?”

As they travelled along the path leading from the Walsh farm, Sabrina tilted her head toward the sun. Though the air was slightly cool, the sun held comforting warmth. Birdsong sounded from the surrounding oak and juniper trees. The colorful autumn leaves shimmered with vibrancy. Everything was enhanced, bringing all her senses alive as never before. Because of Riordan.

“A beautiful day, is it not?” he asked.

“Completely glorious,” she replied dreamily.

“See the brook ahead? I’ll race you.”

“Hardly fair; I’m riding sidesaddle. Now, if I were astride, it would be a true race. In fact, I could beat you.”

He laughed, and the deep resonance of it made her heart skip a beat. “Then I will give you a head start.”

Leaning over Goldie, Sabrina shortened the reins and gave the mare a gentle kick with her heels. The horse needed no further encouragement; she vaulted forward, leaving Riordan and Grayson behind. It didn’t take long for pounding hooves to fill her hearing. Riordan caught up to her, and with a jaunty salute passed her. She dared not go any faster.

When she reached the brook, Riordan had already dismounted. She pulled up on the reins, slowing Goldie until the mare came to a full stop. “Being a gentleman, I should have let you win. But Grayson would not have it. He is from racing stock, and blood will win out.” He reached up to help her dismount. Heavens, he would be touching her again. Steeling herself from any reaction, she placed her hands on his shoulders.

Riordan lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed nothing at all. He held her aloft, his gaze searing and smoldering. Then he lowered her, close enough that his body made contact with her own. Her breasts brushed by his chest, her legs tangled with his. The friction was like flint to tinder. Still he held her gaze, and she could not look away. Blue fire crackled with life and danced in his eyes.

At last, her boots hit the ground. His hands remained about her waist. Gazing up at him, she marveled once again at his nearly flawless face. Already she could see dark bristles forming along his firm jawline. How she ached to run her fingers along it. “We should allow the horses to drink,” he said.

“Yes, of course.”

He stepped away and grabbed the reins, urging Grayson to the edge of the brook. She did the same with Goldie. “We should have brought a picnic lunch. It is still warm enough to enjoy one.” He pointed to the cluster of trees. “Right under there, it’s perfect.”

She glanced to where he pointed. It was perfect. Flat ground tucked under a shelter of trees. Sun shone through the gaps in the branches, creating a magical effect. “Perhaps next week, if the weather holds,” she offered.

“Ah.” He inclined his head toward the horses still drinking. “They will be fine.” He took her gloved hand, threading her fingers through his. He did it naturally, as if they always held hands. “Next Sunday I’ll be heading to my family home. Nothing serious. I will return Monday night. The board has granted me a personal day. I’m sure it will be the last one for a while.”

“Oh.”

“You will not be alone. I’ll ask Mary to stay with you for the night I’m away.”

“Thank you.”

“You look lovely today.”