White Horses. Joan Wolf
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She nodded. “Is there a side that you particularly like? André always had to sleep on the left side of the bed.”
“No,” he said. “Either side is fine with me.”
“Bon. You can have the left side, then. I am used to having the right.”
He walked barefoot to the bed, feeling huge in his white nightshirt. She looked so delicate and so beautiful as she sat there brushing her hair.
He got in under the covers and watched as she finished brushing and took a ribbon and tied her hair at the nape of her neck. She stood up, folded back the covers and slipped into bed beside him.
“This is awkward, no?” she asked.
“Very awkward,” he replied. He had to curl his legs because the dog took up the bottom of the bed.
“I am sorry that we seemed to denigrate your countrymen tonight,” she said. “We of the Robichon circus tend to be very proud of the quality of our riding.”
“So I gathered,” he said. “This disguise of you being my husband is very difficult,” she said. “You saw tonight how astonished everyone was that I would marry a man who is not a good rider.”
Leo sat up. “Wait a minute. Who said I wasn’t a good rider?”
She looked up at him. “I don’t mean to insult you, Leo….”
“Well you do insult me,” he said hotly. “I’ll have you know that I am a bloody good rider. You and your friends may know some circus tricks that I don’t know, but…”
She also sat bolt upright. “Circus tricks! I am not talking about circus tricks! I’ll bet you can’t even ride a horse in shoulder-in.”
“What the hell is shoulder-in?”
“Hah!” she cried. “Shoulder-in is the most basic training tool of all classical riding. And you haven’t even heard of it!”
Why am I even arguing with this girl? He forced himself to calm down. “This is pointless,” he said. “We should get some sleep.”
“Certainly,” she said. “There is no point in arguing with you. You are too ignorant.”
It took all his discipline not to reply.
“Turn out the light,” she said, then turned her back on him, pulled the covers up over her shoulders and shut her eyes.
She was giving him orders again. He set his jaw, leaned over to the lamp and turned it off. Her voice came through the darkness.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” he replied.
Silence fell on the room. He was acutely aware of her sleeping but two feet away from him. Under the same blankets. She breathed so lightly he could scarcely hear her. His pulse was racing from the argument, he told himself. This is going to be a long night.
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