Magic in the Stars by Patricia Rice

caught Aster’s waist and hauled her from the
stile. She shrieked in surprise, then pummeled the muscular limb imprisoning
her. “Put me down, you oaf! You cannot keep manhandling me like this!”
    The man had already had his hand on . . . on
her bottom . That had been the outside
of enough but—
    His lordship swung her sideways into the saddle of his
massive horse. Forgetting her outrage over his crude handling, Aster screamed
her fear. It was a terrifyingly long way down, and the animal did not stand
still. She had only Lord Theo’s encroaching hold preventing her from a nasty
tumble—and she really didn’t need more bruises.
    “I do not ride, sir! I’m not attired for this! Put me down
at once.”
    Instead of listening, he stuck his boot in the stirrup and
swung up behind her. His big hand nearly enveloped her abdomen. The strong
thighs she’d admired earlier brushed her skirts—and her hip. She stiffened but
she could not pull away without risking a fall.
    “We will ride together to fetch help,” he said in a
tight-lipped command.
    The horse jolted into motion with the urging of his knees.
Azenor grabbed for its mane and tried not to sound like a hysterical female.
“I’d rather walk. Put me down, now. ”
    “No.” He kneed the stallion into a canter, holding her in
place although she was quite convinced she would slide off at any moment.
    “Do you not think I’m bruised enough?” she asked, attempting
to fight fear and maintain decorum at the same time. His hand just below her
breasts created an unwanted agitation that she fought equally hard. “This is an
unseemly familiarity, sir!”
    When the uncivilized oaf didn’t reply, she attempted to
elbow him, but that meant releasing the mane. She did it anyway, and
encountered a solid wall of muscle that hurt her elbow more than him,
apparently. At least anger was starting to replace fear.
    “I won’t have more hysterical females fainting on my
doorstep,” he grumbled in response to her struggles.
    “I am not hysterical! Although I very well could learn to be
if you don’t let me off this monster.” Hysterical —the
very idea was laughable.
    “Walking with an injured limb when you can ride is either
hysterical or stupid. Take your choice.” His tone was unrelenting.
    “I am not a cripple! I can walk. I cannot ride. That is not
stupid. That is logical,” she argued, wishing she could squirm around to see
his expression but not daring to move given her current position between his
thighs.
    “You won’t ride with the others because you think you caused the accident!” he shouted.
“If you’re not hysterical, you have maggots for brains. Did you not see
Montfort’s phaeton? I intend to horsewhip the lackwit the moment I see him.”
    “By all means, beat the stuffing out of him,” she agreed
through clenched teeth, wrapping her glove tighter in the horse’s sumptuous
mane. “But you cannot beat my planets into submission. I bring harm to those I
love.”
    “Planets have no effect on anything!” he shouted in
frustration as they cantered up the long drive to the manor. “ You had no effect on the phaeton or the
carriage or the damned Earth’s movement. It was an accident .”
    “Language, sir,” she scolded. “Besides, even Sir Isaac
Newton believed in the effects of the sun. He studied calculus so as to better
chart the planets, just as I do.”
    “He bloody well did not,” he said, ignoring her objection to
his language. “One cannot mathematically chart the fates.” He hauled his horse
to a halt at the portico.
    She could point out that, among a number of other things,
she had accurately predicted his brother’s injury. But she was too breathless
to state the obvious.
    The massive sprawling mansion looming above her may once
have been a medieval hall. It had been added on to so often that Azenor could
not quite discern all its dimensions. It was all gray stone blocks, blunt
square towers, and row upon row of windows. She