the woman closely the morning after her wedding. At the time, she’d supposed he would want his wife to entertain his friends and arrange his household. It had quickly come to her attention that he did not welcome her meddling in his bachelor arrangements.
Apart from their wedding ball, attended by every member of the ton, not once had he entertained in any formal way and his only forays from the house were to his man of business, his club and his morning ride. The last, the only activity where a wife might be welcome.
They passed through the gate into the park and the noise from the streets faded until one might imagine they were deep in the heart of the countryside. Julia took a deep breath. ‘What a beautiful morning to be sure.’
He frowned and looked around at the trees and the glitter of the Serpentine as if he had never seen it before. ‘Hmmph.’
‘I agree,’ she said.
He raised a brow questioningly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
‘I agree with your sentiment. While it is a good day, the weather being unusually bright and fine, it is too bad there is nowhere to give the horses a really good run.’ Oh, dear, the widening of his eyes said she had let her tendency for sarcasm run away with her. Something she had learned never to do with her previous husband. A couple of good hard slaps had cured the habit. Apparently, she had started to forget his lessons.
Having planned this morning as a way for her to get to know him better, to try to rekindle some of the liking he had shown her, even if he no longer felt passion, she had probably ruined it all by speaking out of turn.
Men did not appreciate being teased about their foibles, Dunstan’s being a marked lack of conversation. At least it was where she was concerned. Perhaps he was a veritable gabble-monger amongst his friends. She pretended nothing was amiss and fixed her gaze straight ahead down the length of Rotten Row.
Bella tossed her head as if asking for permission to do more than a sedate walk. In the distance a group of riders were cantering.
She clenched her jaw to stop herself from asking if they too could pick up their pace.
‘Let us see how she is at the trot, shall we?’ Alistair said.
When she glanced at him she was sure she saw a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if he was trying not to smile. Perhaps he had not been annoyed by her teasing after all.
Quite likely fearsome dukes weren’t accustomed to teasing. It might do him good.
The horses moved easily into the trot and she was aware of her husband watching her with a critical eye. A comforting thought. This was the first time she had ridden Bella. She was glad he wanted to assure himself that she knew what she was doing.
He moved into an easy canter. Bella responded to the request to do likewise and they rode side by side. At the end of the Row, they drew to a halt. He glanced over at her. There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite fathom.
‘You have a good seat.’
A compliment? Her spirits lifted. She arched a brow. ‘You already knew that.’ The naughty innuendo tripped off her tongue before she could catch it.
His eyes widened. And, as sudden as a bolt of lightning, a crack of laughter broke free from him. Delight lit up those grey eyes, turning them a sparkling silver. ‘Race you back.’
Her heart somersaulted in her chest at the sight of the tempting curve to his lips. She remembered the feel of kissing those lips. Then they had wed and he’d thrown up his barricade. For some mad reason she had the urge to kiss him again. Right now. Very shocking. While it certainly wouldn’t do for a married couple to be showing any signs of affection in public, she was absolutely ready to take up his challenge of a race. ‘Why not?’ She turned Bella around.
‘Go!’ she said. Bella responded without hesitation. She let the little mare have her head, aware all the time of the thunder of the larger horse behind them, catching up, and then they were neck and neck.
Julia risked a glance at her husband. There was grim determination on his face, but also a smile of pure pleasure she had only seen once before, in a small candlelit room in the brothel.
As if he sensed her gaze, he looked over, grinned and pulled ahead, the long-legged gelding stretching into a gallop, only to slow a few moments later.
She came up beside him. ‘Thank you.’
He raised a brow in question.
‘For not pretending and letting me win. It wouldn’t have been fair to Thor.’
Indeed, Thor was pawing and prancing, so very proud of himself. Alistair grinned at her. ‘I haven’t raced like that since—’ he shook his head ‘—I can’t remember when.’
‘Nor me.’
He glanced around them. ‘We should—’ A frown crashed down. ‘Damn.’
She followed the direction of his gaze to where two gentlemen were riding swiftly towards them.
‘Someone you know?’ she asked, holding Bella steady.
‘Perhaps.’
A calm, coldly spoken word. The wall was back up. Likely he was annoyed that people had witnessed their display of high spirits. Not that they had done anything too outrageous. Or perhaps it was the thought of introducing his wife to his friends.
Chilly fingers crawled down her spine. Might they have been at the brothel when she had shamelessly allowed herself to be auctioned?
She lifted her chin and pinned a teasing smile to her lips. ‘Shall we gallop vente à terre in the other direction?’
Once more a corner of his mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. ‘Now that really would be rude.’
Hope bubbled in her veins. Was the distance between them closing, this barrier meant for others and not for her? ‘Do we care? Being of the ducal sort?’
His eyes flashed amusement. ‘Behave, madam.’
Thrills chased through her stomach. He’d used that deep seductive growl the night they’d made love. Her insides softened, liquefied. Longing filled her. For him. For his touch. For the way he had made her feel. ‘I will behave if you will,’ she quipped. He had intended to arouse, she was sure of it. The man did nothing without purpose.
Yet as the men drew close, his expression cooled.
‘Duke,’ spoke a handsome fellow on a big grey who looked familiar.
‘Beauworth,’ her husband replied, helping Julia to make the connection. ‘You know my wife.’
Beauworth bowed, which was difficult to do with any elegance when astride a horse, although he made it look easy. ‘Good day, Your Grace.’
Julia inclined her head and smiled. ‘How do you do. We met at our ball.’
‘Kind of you to remember,’ the Marquess said.
Alistair had been icily cold that evening. She’d been terrified of doing
