Texas Viscount (19 page)

      
“You may assist me in mounting, my lord.”

      
Oh, yes, he'd love to do that...but not the way she meant. All he said was, “Just tell me what to do.”

      
“Place your hands so.” She illustrated, explaining how to give her a boost onto the horse's ridiculous little sidesaddle.

      
“That contraption still doesn't look safe to me,” he said dubiously as he followed her instructions. What he really wanted to do was take her tiny waist in his two big hands and lift her up, but he knew that would elicit a rebuke. Sabrina lightly took her seat with practiced ease, holding the reins like a seasoned rider. He nodded in approval as he swung up onto Comanche.

      
“Ladies always ride sidesaddle. Even when they ride to hounds, which can become quite vigorous.”

      
“Fool way to break your neck.”

      
“Which, riding sidesaddle or fox hunting?” she asked.

      
“Both,” he groused. “Dozens of grown men and women all chasing one little scruffy varmint, and they let a pack of dogs do all the work for them. Downright unsporting, if you ask me.”

      
“You'd best keep that sentiment to yourself, Lord Wesley, else you'll not be welcome at any peer's seat.”

      
“Speaking of country houses, are you going to go with me this weekend?” he asked casually.

      
“I suppose so. It does present a fine opportunity. If the Chiffingtons employ me, I'll soon have my reputation restored. I know how you and your uncle conspired to turn all my clients away. Even with enough money to open my school, I must be above reproach.”

      
“Aw, I didn't have anything to do with that. Uncle Ab's the one with the devious mind,” he protested as they rode toward the Wellington statue in the park.

      
As they circled in a leisurely canter around the tree-lined riding course, Josh noted that it was approaching three. Then he spotted Nikolai Zarenko dismounting from a beautiful black horse. He strode purposefully toward a lone figure standing at the base of the statue. Nodding in greeting, he placed an arm about the slim Englishman's narrow shoulders, and the two began to walk as if they were old friends. Josh saw the traitor pass a sheaf of papers to the Russian, who quickly slipped them inside his jacket.

      
Glancing casually around as they rode, Sabrina admired the statue of England's greatest hero and wondered why her cousin Edmund was there walking with some strange man who looked vaguely familiar.

Chapter Nine

      
Josh immediately recognized the skinny kid as the clerk who worked for his uncle. What did this green boy have to do with the Foreign Office? Uncle Ab was a member of the House of Lords, but from what he'd figured out, these days that was pretty much window dressing unless a peer became a cabinet member or worked in the government in some other official capacity, which he knew the earl did not.

      
He would have to learn more about this Whistledown fellow. Michael Jamison might know something...or be able to find out something. He would send word to the spy when he and Sabrina finished their “lessons.” Tonight he had a command performance for dinner with the earl, just to be certain his dinner-table etiquette was sufficient to pass muster at the Chiffingtons.

      
Looking at the pensive expression on her face, he asked Sabrina, “What could be wrong on such a beautiful day—except for being rigged up on that uncomfortable contraption?”

      
She laughed. “This ‘uncomfortable contraption, as you call it, is the only way I've ever ridden.”

      
“Then you have to let me teach you something—to ride astride.” At her incredulous expression, it was his turn to laugh. “Women in America do it all the time, especially out West.” His voice grew husky as he drawled, “There's nothing like riding flat-out across a sea of buffalo grass under a full moon with your knees wrapped around a galloping horse. You can feel the pounding power of every hoof beat.”

      
The vivid imagery was sexually arousing, as she was certain he intended it to be. Sabrina dared not look at him, but she could feel his gaze on her and knew her cheeks were flushed. “I suppose your Texas women wear britches and let their hair down.”

      
“You've never known how it feels to let your hair down, have you?” He did not wait for her to answer. Her flaming face did it for her as she stared resolutely straight ahead. His voice was low, vibrating as he continued, “To have it flow like a banner on the wind while you lean over a pounding mount. Without that, you've never lived.”

      
“I suspect a good many people have ‘never lived’ according to your definition,” she replied dryly, at last daring to look over at the rogue. “But as to riding swiftly, I can manage that,” she said and kicked the mare into a gallop, leaning low over the gray's neck as she took off.

      
Josh whistled low. “Girl, you are full of surprises,” he murmured as he kneed Comanche into following her reckless ride across the manicured green. Considering how dangerous the sidesaddle was, she did manage to keep a smooth seat. His big bay quickly caught up to her small gray, and they rode side by side for a bit; then she reined in and slowed to a canter.

      
“You're a natural-born rider,” he said.

      
Her smile was dazzling. “I take it that is quite a compliment coming from a Texan.”

      
Her hair had come loose and a few pins stuck out from beneath her hat, which remained secured to her head. Wispy tendrils of shiny bronze blew across her face, and she brushed them away absently with one hand, then began to secure the pins holding her hair in place.

      
“Yes, ma'am, it is.” His mouth went utterly dry when her upraised arms revealed the curve of her breasts as her jacket pulled open. The soft cotton blouse beneath could not hide the lushness of her figure. He could span her waist with his two hands, and if he judged rightly, her corset was not laced tightly. He was a very good judge of such matters after years of firsthand observation.

      
Sabrina could feel the tension humming between them. What was happening to her? Had she deliberately reached up to refasten her hair, even though she knew the frog holding her habit jacket allowed it to gape open? Her breasts felt suddenly tight, the nipples hardened beneath her chemise. Dear Lord, could he see the points sticking out through the well-washed layers of clothing?

      
When she quickly lowered her arms, he chuckled. “Lost your nerve, huh?”

      
“I have no idea what you mean, my lord,” she managed to reply as she reined in and turned the mare away before finishing the job of fixing her hair. The mad ride had been a childish way of showing off for him, and now she chastised herself for it.

      
He gave her time to compose herself, leading Comanche in a wide circle before approaching her. “Don't take on so. What's happening between us is pretty natural back where I come from.”

      
By sheer force of will, Sabrina kept her face blank and remained superficially calm as she turned to face him. “Oh, and precisely how many viscounts in Texas carry on frivolous flirtations with their hired help?”

      
He looked innocently amused, a grin turning up one corner of his mouth as he replied, “I can't rightly say we have a lot of viscounts and such running around Texas, and I never heard it called frivolous flirtation, but men and women who're attracted to each other just naturally seem to strike sparks when they're together.”

      
“We cannot be attracted to each other. It would be most inappropriate,” she said stiffly. “Have you not absorbed anything about social class that I have repeatedly explained to you?”

      
“If a woman works for her living, there's no more shame in that than if a man does.”

      
“I never said there was,” she snapped.

      
“Then be proud of it. I always have. I started out with nothing and made my own fortune.”

      
“This is not America. It is England.”

      
“Just because I talk slow doesn't mean I'm stupid, Sabrina.” He could hear her indrawn breath when he used her Christian name. “I don't need a geography lesson.”

      
“No, you don't. What you require most egregiously is a lesson in propriety. And at the moment, so do I.”

      
He was pushing her too fast, but, damn, the woman made him crazy! “Now, don't take on so,” he said soothingly

      
“I believe it's time I went home. Would you be so kind as to convey my regrets to the earl about my inability to continue your lessons?”

      
“Oh, no, you don't. You're not backing away like some skittish filly. I know you have more sand than that, Sabrina.”

      
“Do not call me that!”

      
“It's your name, isn't it? And mine's Josh. No one's around to hear us if we break a rule or two.”

      
“You and your uncle used virtual extortion to force me to attempt the feckless task of civilizing you; but if I never again have another pupil, I don't care. I hereby resign my position.” She kicked her mare into a gallop, heading back to the stables.

      
“Damn fool female,” he groused beneath his breath as he followed her. This time she was riding even faster than before, recklessly cutting across rougher terrain, jumping a hedge and spurring the gray through a copse of alders. She was going to break her fool neck!

      
Sabrina could feel the sting of tears and blinked them back. She could barely see as she urged the little mare to race even more swiftly. All she could think of was escaping from him before something unthinkable happened. To use his crude Texas vernacular, the man could coax a buzzard off a gut wagon. The ghastly image made her cringe. A few short weeks ago, such a vulgar thought would never have entered her mind. Lord only knew what he could coax her to do!

      
Josh saw the gully ahead of them, partially hidden by some low shrubbery. He kicked Comanche into an even harder gallop toward the deadly abyss. If one saw it and was prepared to jump, a good horseman could accomplish the feat easily, but he knew Sabrina was not paying attention.
 
She'd plunge downward and break her neck. He pulled alongside her, seizing Cloudy's reins in a tight hold as he wheeled Comanche into a sharp turn, bringing the mare with him.

      
But Cloudy's footing began to slip at the edge of the gully. As the horse struggled to keep from falling, Josh yanked Sabrina from the sidesaddle and swept her into his arms. For once he was glad for the silly thing. If her foot had been caught in the stirrup, he could not have pulled her free. Comanche wheeled around, allowing the mare to regain purchase in the crushed bushes and scramble to safety.

      
Josh held Sabrina tightly for a moment as both horses, winded and snorting nervously, calmed. His pulse was still racing, and he could feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest. Her hair had come unfastened and fell in a tangled cascade of silk down her back. He could smell the faint essence of wildflowers as she nestled her head in the curve of his shoulder.

      
Sabrina was amazed to feel his big body shiver as if he were afraid. Her bold Texan? Impossible. Or had he been that frightened that harm could come to her? She had endangered both their lives and those of two very valuable animals. Her own trembling was part terror, part guilt. How could she face him? Taking a shaky breath, she looked up, ready to apologize for her rashness...and found him smiling at her.

      
“I appear to be right hard on a lady's wardrobe. You've lost another hat,” he said in a husky voice.

      
“Bother the hat. What I did was inexcusable. Please accept my apol—”

      
He silenced her with a kiss. It was quite different from that first sizzling one exchanged in the garden. He was exquisitely gentle, brushing his lips over hers like butterfly wings, pressing, withdrawing, teasing and caressing as he cradled her head in one hand and held her against him with his other arm. He pulled her up onto the saddle so she was seated across his thighs as he continued his mercilessly soft assault on her mouth. Sabrina could hear his low murmur, indistinct yet oddly soothing, as he pressed kisses around her mouth and on her eyelids.

      
“When I saw that drop-off and knew you didn't, my heart came near choking me, Sabrina...Sabbie, my Sabbie...”

      
She stiffened slightly.

      
“That's a child's name, and I'm a woman grown,” she protested as he centered his mouth over hers once again. She should protest. This was utterly irresponsible, highly improper, deliriously wonderful!