the row of stalls. Slow footsteps sounded from the grooms' quarters above them. The late hour, the silence, altered things between them. They were two ends of a rope that must snap, impatience and restraint.
Now, she wanted to shout. Go, now, before anyone comes. Only the expression in his eyes held her, a serious, measuring look. He was cautious, patient, thorough, always moving with the horses in mind.
She would not persuade him. Then his eyes lighted with a reckless glitter that made her giddy. He released her elbow. "Wait here," he said through his teeth.
His footsteps on the stairs sounded with exaggerated loudness in her ears. She was glad for the moment apart. A shiver of strange exhilaration passed through her, the excitement of escaping, the shock of getting her way. She had stepped outside the boundaries that defined them as servant and mistress, and he had followed her. Not that she could not ask him to accompany her. To be in service was to be subject to the jingle of a bell at any hour. But to aid in her escape without a bribe—it made them almost friends. She ran a shaking hand up and down Shadow's nose, promising the mare a good run in the morning.
He returned, wearing a coachman's greatcoat that made her stare.
"I don't want you to get muddied riding in front of me."
He saddled Raj with quick, tight motions, and no more speech, not even as he lifted her to an awkward perch across the lip of the saddle and Raj's withers.
She tried to settle herself, grabbing hold of Raj's mane, but Alexander swung up behind her, his weight tipping her body into his. It was a subtle alteration of the balance of wills. His will, not hers, would move them through the night.
His breath brushed across her cheek, a teasing gust of warmth. His arms closed around her, his hold on the reins tight.
In the yard Raj broke into a skittish prance, a clatter of hooves that roused an answering whinny from Shadow. Ophelia's left shoulder bumped against Alexander's chest with each jerky step. At the contact his muscles tensed.
"You're making Raj uneasy," she said.
"You make me uneasy," he answered in a tight voice.
She twisted a bit so she could look up at him and felt him suck in a breath. Raj tossed his head, sidling and fighting the bit, drawing Alexander's attention. Ophelia felt the play of muscle in his thigh as he relaxed to the movement of the horse.
He brought Raj to a steady walk in the alley along the high wall at the back of the Searle House garden. "Do you ever follow the rules?"
Ophelia sat up straight, opening a gap between her shoulders and his chest. She wouldn't be corrected by him again. "There's no real impropriety in going to Hetty's."
"What about riding through the streets of London like this?"
His meaning was unmistakable. He meant this closeness between them that made her exquisitely conscious of every place their bodies touched. The friction of it spread a melting heat through her limbs.
"I t's dark. No one will notice us. "
Unexpectedly a cat hissed and leapt from the wall above to a shed roof and to the ground, a gray blur bounding across their path. Raj shied, and Ophelia clutched Alexander's arm for balance. The muscle bunched under her hand.
She tapped his arm as if she could ease his taut hold on the reins.
"Don't," he said in a choked voice.
"Then please, loosen up on Raj."
They came out of the dim lane into the lights of the street where a row of carriages lined the sidewalk approaching Marchmont House. Link boys stood about with torches, horses blew steamy breaths into the night air, and glittering passengers descended with the assistance of liveried footmen. In the darkness the muddy puddles became shimmering pools of light reflecting the gaiety of the scene. When they got beyond the crush and noise, Ophelia spoke again.
"I keep the little rules regularly, so I can break the big ones when I need to. " She wanted him to understand her. Society exercised its subtle tyranny over you, and you
Now, she wanted to shout. Go, now, before anyone comes. Only the expression in his eyes held her, a serious, measuring look. He was cautious, patient, thorough, always moving with the horses in mind.
She would not persuade him. Then his eyes lighted with a reckless glitter that made her giddy. He released her elbow. "Wait here," he said through his teeth.
His footsteps on the stairs sounded with exaggerated loudness in her ears. She was glad for the moment apart. A shiver of strange exhilaration passed through her, the excitement of escaping, the shock of getting her way. She had stepped outside the boundaries that defined them as servant and mistress, and he had followed her. Not that she could not ask him to accompany her. To be in service was to be subject to the jingle of a bell at any hour. But to aid in her escape without a bribe—it made them almost friends. She ran a shaking hand up and down Shadow's nose, promising the mare a good run in the morning.
He returned, wearing a coachman's greatcoat that made her stare.
"I don't want you to get muddied riding in front of me."
He saddled Raj with quick, tight motions, and no more speech, not even as he lifted her to an awkward perch across the lip of the saddle and Raj's withers.
She tried to settle herself, grabbing hold of Raj's mane, but Alexander swung up behind her, his weight tipping her body into his. It was a subtle alteration of the balance of wills. His will, not hers, would move them through the night.
His breath brushed across her cheek, a teasing gust of warmth. His arms closed around her, his hold on the reins tight.
In the yard Raj broke into a skittish prance, a clatter of hooves that roused an answering whinny from Shadow. Ophelia's left shoulder bumped against Alexander's chest with each jerky step. At the contact his muscles tensed.
"You're making Raj uneasy," she said.
"You make me uneasy," he answered in a tight voice.
She twisted a bit so she could look up at him and felt him suck in a breath. Raj tossed his head, sidling and fighting the bit, drawing Alexander's attention. Ophelia felt the play of muscle in his thigh as he relaxed to the movement of the horse.
He brought Raj to a steady walk in the alley along the high wall at the back of the Searle House garden. "Do you ever follow the rules?"
Ophelia sat up straight, opening a gap between her shoulders and his chest. She wouldn't be corrected by him again. "There's no real impropriety in going to Hetty's."
"What about riding through the streets of London like this?"
His meaning was unmistakable. He meant this closeness between them that made her exquisitely conscious of every place their bodies touched. The friction of it spread a melting heat through her limbs.
"I t's dark. No one will notice us. "
Unexpectedly a cat hissed and leapt from the wall above to a shed roof and to the ground, a gray blur bounding across their path. Raj shied, and Ophelia clutched Alexander's arm for balance. The muscle bunched under her hand.
She tapped his arm as if she could ease his taut hold on the reins.
"Don't," he said in a choked voice.
"Then please, loosen up on Raj."
They came out of the dim lane into the lights of the street where a row of carriages lined the sidewalk approaching Marchmont House. Link boys stood about with torches, horses blew steamy breaths into the night air, and glittering passengers descended with the assistance of liveried footmen. In the darkness the muddy puddles became shimmering pools of light reflecting the gaiety of the scene. When they got beyond the crush and noise, Ophelia spoke again.
"I keep the little rules regularly, so I can break the big ones when I need to. " She wanted him to understand her. Society exercised its subtle tyranny over you, and you
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