Miss Spencer Rides Astride (Heroines on Horseback) by Sydney Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

had been as hungry, and just as eager for a pint, after riding three young horses that morning, as all the other lads. But he couldn’t very well just let a young lady go galloping off into the fields alone. Especially after the strange way she’d been behaving all that morning, and, to be sure, the night before, when she’d picked at her dinner and gone to bed with an illness he still thought was fake. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly, and it would never do to let her get hurt out there on her own. He’d follow after, just to keep her safe. It was only the gentlemanly thing to do.
    Not to mention, he was a little besotted with the girl, and he wanted to know what secrets she was hiding behind that beautiful coppery mane of hers. That she was keeping secrets, he had no doubt; he simply couldn’t imagine what they might be.
    But he had lost her trail somewhere near a stream that ran into a tangle of forest, the very stream he had met her at the day before, when she’d been out jumping alone, and he had a very unpleasant suspicion that the lovely Miss Spencer was not alone on these afternoons.  
    Nor that she was not out of sorts simply because she was feeling ill.
    Could the master’s daughter have taken a lover? It was a horrible thought. Couldn’t possibly be the case. He should put it out of his head immediately.  
    But there was no doubt that she was disappearing to the same place two afternoons in a row, and it was such a well-hidden trail that he wasn’t able to track her. He had gone round and round, as the afternoon had passed, and his hunger had stabbed at his belly, but there was simply nothing for it — she knew a path he could not find, and had disappeared into the forest. Now, exhausted, he looked thoughtfully at the stream that ran into the wood. Perhaps she had thrown him as a fox throws a hound — by going to water.  
    Bald Nick pricked his ears suddenly, and in the dying light, William saw it too: the dark shadow image of a horse, picking a careful route through the rocky stream bed. He shook his head. That little vixen…

    ***

    Grainne saw him before he saw her, sitting slouched on his chestnut horse as the sun sank beneath the hills. Shimmering in the last golden rays, he looked like a god: one of those old Irish gods the villagers were always going on about, the heroes who had lived amongst the fairies and the giants.  
    But he was truly only a meddling huntsman, she told herself, one who had gotten in the way an awful lot for only working in the yard for two days.  
    Gretna picked up the pace when she saw the fellow horse: she, at least, was thrilled to have company for the ride home. Traitorous mare. Grainne gave her a pat anyway. She had been very patient today, waiting for Grainne to wake from her nap — and to rise from her tryst with Len.
    Goosebumps rose at the thought of his body upon hers again, and when she finally rode up to Mr. Archer, her face was flushed. In the dying light, she watched his eyes take in her disheveled hair and her blushing cheeks, and saw his face harden.  
    He knows.
    That was ridiculous… just her guilt talking. There was no way he could possibly know about Len. He might have his suspicions, though. That would certainly explain why he was following her around every evening.
    “Allow me to escort you home, Miss Spencer,” was all he would say to her, though, and they rode up the hill in silence, seeking out the gates and low stiles in the hedges instead of bothering to canter up and jump them. They would be home after dark, she thought, but her father would not consider her compromised, not when she was out riding with one of his huntsman. Which was really terribly funny, of course, considering how thoroughly compromised she really was. Any more ruined and she would have to produce a babe.
    She glanced over at him a few times as they rode, trying to judge just how angry he was, or how much he might know about her time alone. But he would not look