Until You (8 page)

Walking toward the doorway with an excited smile, eager to be in the saddle once again, she suddenly halted in mid-stride.  Standing before her, leaning casually against the doorframe was the duke, and he was staring straight at her.  Her heart gave a crazy little leap at the sight of him.  He was dressed in tan riding breeches, gleaming black Hessians, a deep scarlet hunting jacket, and a black top hat was perched jauntily atop his head.  He looked incredibly dashing.

Since it appeared that he was waiting for her, she forced her feet to move forward until she stood directly in front of him.  Reminding herself to appear calm and composed, she regarded him with a polite smile.  “Good morning, Your Grace.  The weather is lovely, is it not?  It should prove an excellent day for the hunt,” she remarked, though secretly she hoped that it would prove an excellent day for the fox.  Although she loved the thought of a challenging ride, she had no desire to see a helpless fox fall victim to a pack of bloodthirsty hounds.

As Ashleigh stood before him, Nicholas' eyes traveled from the top of her hat to the toes of her black riding boots, before slowly moving back upward.  She was breathtaking, but he knew he dare not let his appreciation show.
 
“I quite agree,” he said rather brusquely, as he sought to conceal his admiration.  “However, with such a large group accidents are not uncommon, so please don’t do anything foolish or reckless.”

To Ashleigh his words sounded more like a command than a request, as if he were fully expecting her to willfully misbehave.  The admonition was unwarranted and she stiffened in response, barely managing to hold back a tart reply.

Nicholas could see that he had unwittingly offended her, but he bit back his apology.
 
It was best if she viewed him in a negative light anyhow, especially after their unsettling encounter in the library the day before.
 
There was no longer any question that he needed to keep the lovely Ashleigh St. John at a distance.
 
Abruptly, he turned and started to walk away, but then stopped and turned back, fighting the smile that threatened to break free as he recalled their first encounter.  “By the way, Lady St. John,” he added, keeping his tone offhand, “I must say that I am quite pleased to see that you chose to clothe yourself
appropriately
for the occasion.” 

With that parting comment, Nicholas turned, leaving Ashleigh staring after him in exasperation. 
Don’t do anything foolish or reckless.
  Of all the nerve!  He had spoken to her as if she were little more than an ill-disciplined child.  Moreover, he couldn’t honestly think that she might have appeared for the hunt dressed in breeches? 
Could he?
 
No, surely he’d just been trying to vex her.
 
With a frustrated sigh, she could only watch as he walked away.

As she stepped out into the front courtyard, Ashleigh saw that many members of the hunting party were already mounted.  Glancing about she quickly spotted one of the grooms leading Raider over to where she stood.  As she prepared to mount, she noticed several surprised faces staring in her direction.  She knew it was rather uncommon for a woman to ride a stallion, but Ashleigh wasn't about to mount one of the more docile geldings or mares, simply for the sake of appearance.  She could see that the majority of the women participating in the hunt were seated atop dull, gentle looking creatures, undoubtedly named Princess, Lady Fair or something equally boring.  It was really quite sad.

Let them look, she thought defiantly.  She knew she could ride better than most of the men present and she intended to prove it, even if she was forced to use the wretched sidesaddle she despised.  As the groom cupped his hands to help her mount, Ashleigh caught sight of the duke preparing to mount his own hunter, a gorgeous animal, obviously a thoroughbred.  As she hooked her leg over the pommel, she murmured a polite “Thank you,” to the groom’s pleasant “Good hunting, My Lady,” as she adjusted the folds of her heavy riding skirt. 

As soon as she was comfortably seated, she turned her attention back toward the duke, who was now speaking with the huntmaster a few yards away.  A shiver of excitement coursed through her body as she watched him.  Although his behavior frustrated her beyond measure, she couldn't deny that she was intensely attracted to him nonetheless.  Realizing that she was staring, she forced her gaze away from him to view the other members of the hunting party.  As she scanned the faces, it was clear to see that she was not the only woman conscious of the duke.  At least a dozen other women were staring at him as well, most with undisguised longing and blatant admiration.  She couldn't help but notice that a few of them were regarding him with the subtle air of intimate possessiveness as well.  Ashleigh felt the undeniable stirrings of jealousy, wondering how many of those women had known the pleasure of his touch.  If rumor were true, it was probably more than a few.

As her debut had loomed closer and closer, Ashleigh had occasionally speculated about her female peers.  Glancing about, she covertly studied the ladies in the hunting party, and was surprised to see several who appeared to be close to her own age.  A few were quite lovely she noted, and all of them seemed to possess an abundance of poise and grace.  She highly doubted that any of the young ladies present had ever sat a horse garbed in anything other than the most fashionable riding habit, and frowned slightly at the notion.
 
In comparison to her counterparts, the duke almost certainly viewed her as childish and unsophisticated, little more than a simple country bumpkin gadding about in her masculine attire.  Odd that it hadn’t bothered her in the least until now, she noted.  Uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts were taking, she shifted agitatedly in the saddle.  As if sensing her mood, Raider began to shift restlessly beneath her, forcing her to concentrate on calming him.  Like her, he wasn't used to such a large crowd.

Once Nicholas had mounted his chestnut-colored hunter, his eyes involuntarily strayed toward where Ashleigh sat proudly atop her mighty stallion.  She looked incredibly lovely in her stylish velvet riding habit of deep black and matching topper, too lovely in fact.  Though, if he were to admit the truth, he would have to acknowledge that he much preferred the sight of her in her shirt and breeches.  Glancing about the courtyard, he noticed several male faces staring raptly in her direction.  Obviously, he wasn't the only one captivated by her remarkable beauty.  With a slight frown of displeasure he turned his attention back to the huntmaster and gave the signal to start the hunt.  Moments later the trumpet blast sounded and they were off, the hounds having already been released to pick up the scent of the fox. 

Ashleigh kept to the back with the other ladies as they started to move forward, her eyes never straying far from the duke's proud form as he rode near the front of the group.  However, as the field began to widen, she gradually started to move up.  Several of the ladies cast surprised glances in her direction, but she was far too caught up in the exhilaration of her first hunt to pay them any mind.  When she came abreast of two older gentlemen just as they were nearing a short stone wall, she pushed Raider to a faster pace so that the three horses cleared it in unison, their powerful lines appearing almost as one as they sailed over the low obstacle.  The maneuver was accomplished with clever timing and a tremendous degree of skill.  Not many riders would have attempted such a feat and even fewer would have executed it so perfectly.  Their expressions revealed mild disapproval as she passed by them a few seconds later, but she was fairly certain she detected a hint of grudging admiration as well.

Minutes later, Ashleigh had all but forgotten the disapproving looks as her focus and concentration returned to the hunt.  She passed another rider and yet another smiling in sheer delight, utterly caught up in the thrill of the chase.  Urging Raider forward, she saw that a small ravine lay directly ahead, and tightening her muscles, she and Raider flew over it without breaking stride.  When she passed by a handsome gentleman whom Madeline had introduced her to earlier, the Duke of
Ravenfield
if she remembered correctly, she was pleasantly surprised when he tipped his hat and gave her a roguish wink.

Ashleigh was steadily moving toward the front of the group when she saw two horses nearly collide as their careless riders recklessly urged them over a fallen tree.  Eager to distance herself from the crowd, she pushed Raider into a full gallop.  After another mile, she spotted the duke riding just ahead.  A four-foot brick wall lay directly in his path and she couldn't help but admire his flawless form as he cleared it with ease.  She too, took the wall with ease and soon she was nearly abreast of him.

Sensing another rider's presence, Nicholas turned to look over his shoulder and was stunned to see Ashleigh closing the distance behind him.  “I thought I told you to behave,” he shouted as she came alongside of him, the two powerful steeds tearing up the ground with their mighty hooves as they raced side by side.

Ashleigh ignored him as she prepared to take the next hurdle.  A moment later, the two horses sailed over the fallen logs in perfect unison.

“Dammit Ashleigh, I'm serious!” he bellowed, once they had cleared the obstacle, furious that she had deliberately defied him.  He didn’t even realize that he had cursed, or that he had just called her by her first name.

With an audacious grin, Ashleigh leaned forward over Raider's neck and whispered into his ear, urging him on as she followed the distant sound of the barking dogs.  The beautiful English countryside became little more than a fast-moving blur of greens, browns and the other muted shades of autumn.

Nicholas couldn't believe that Ashleigh was riding with such reckless abandon.  Although he knew she was an accomplished equestrian, he feared for her safety nonetheless.  She was riding sidesaddle for Christ’s sake!  It was one thing to ride with such fervor when astride, but to do so sidesaddle was insane!  Her stubbornness and over-confidence were a dangerous combination.  Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed hold of her horse’s reins, quickly slowing the horses and ultimately bringing both to a plunging, rearing halt, nearly unseating himself and Ashleigh in the process.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed,” he roared once they had gotten the horses under control, his face a mask of fury.

“I was doing just fine, until now,” Ashleigh shouted back defiantly, her chest heaving in offense and outrage at his rash, highhanded maneuver.  “If anyone is going to get me killed, it is you!  What on earth were you thinking?”

Nicholas couldn't believe the little spitfire had the nerve to shout back at him.  Keeping a tight rein on his mounting anger, and an even tighter grip on her horse’s reins, he turned to the north and then urged his mount forward; leading them into a wooded area away from the direction the hunting party had taken.  The barking of the dogs and the thunder of racing hoof-beats grew fainter with each passing second as they traveled deeper and deeper into the woods.  When they came upon a small clearing at the edge of a narrow stream he stopped, and then immediately dismounted.  Walking to a nearby tree, he tied both horses' reins to a low hanging branch. 

Abruptly, and before Ashleigh had time to protest or even to react, the duke turned and hauled her from her horse.  She temporarily forgot her anger though as he pulled her against his rigid torso, just before lowering her to the ground.  He looked deeply into her eyes for one brief moment and then grabbed her wrist in an unbreakable grasp, pulling her in the direction of the slow-moving brook.  She was so shocked by the suddenness of his actions that she could scarcely find her voice.  “Just what do you think you are doing?” she gasped, twisting her body as she tried to break free from his viselike hold.

Unexpectedly he stopped dead, causing her to stumble into him.  Before she knew what he intended, he turned, grabbed her and then pulled her across his lap as he sat down heavily upon a large tree stump.  Suddenly and without warning, her face was mere inches from the grass-covered banks of the stream.  Sucking in a deep, outraged breath, she was rewarded with the pungent odor of grass and dirt, and helplessly watched as a small black insect scurried by directly under her nose.  Livid, she hurled every expletive she had ever heard at him as she struggled wildly to free herself from his unrelenting grasp.

Nicholas ignored her cries of outrage as well as her futile efforts to escape as he sought to control his rioting emotions.  God what a temper she had, and a surprisingly explicit vocabulary too he noted with a derisive grin, his pulse pounding.  Despite his anger, he had to concede that Ashleigh St. John was like no other woman he had ever known, and dammed if she wasn’t affecting him more than he cared to acknowledge.  As she continued her useless struggles, her pelvis brushed enticingly against his groin and a surge of raw desire rushed through his body.  Although she wasn't wearing skintight breeches, he could clearly make out the shape of her rounded bottom through the material of her riding skirt and it was a tantalizing sight.

Realizing that her wild thrashing was having absolutely no effect on the duke’s tight hold, Ashleigh ceased her useless struggles to gain her freedom.  It was then that she became aware of her breasts, pressed tightly against the firm muscles of his thigh and the rock hard bulge that now strained against her pelvis.  There was no mistaking his sudden arousal and it gave her pause.  He had intended on giving her a sound thrashing, she was sure of it, but was he still, or had his intention shifted?  “What are you going to do now?” she asked, somewhat breathless from her struggles.