To Pleasure a Lady by Nicole Jordan Page B

step-uncle’s stables are hardly worthy of the name. We can consider a ride part of my daily quota of your company.”
    She would indeed enjoy riding, Arabella reflected. And mounted on horseback, she would stand a better chance of frustrating the earl’s persistent courtship. “I would like that, my lord.”
    â€œGood. Then I shall meet you at the stable at two.”
    Arabella returned to the drawing room, unable to ignore a tremor of excitement at the prospect of riding on such a lovely spring day, or the more deplorable anticipation of matching wits with Marcus again.
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    Arabella was not disappointed by either the weather or her new mount. When she reached the stables, Marcus was waiting with a beautiful bay mare for her. He lifted her into her sidesaddle, then mounted a strapping chestnut gelding.
    She led the way out of the yard and down the gravel drive to a tree-shaded lane. At the next crossroad, they turned off and set out across the countryside at a leisurely canter, negotiating lush green fields and pastures and glades that flanked the winding Thames River. They finally slowed when they came to the crest of a hill, where they could see a wide valley below.
    A pleasant silence had fallen between them. Arabella raised her face to the sun, drinking in the golden-bright afternoon, savoring the rare pleasure of having a spirited horse beneath her and a charmingly attentive gentleman beside her. If not for the wager, she would have keenly enjoyed Marcus’s company, she acknowledged.
    â€œThank you for this delightful treat,” she said, patting her mare. “She is a beauty. You clearly have superb taste in horseflesh.”
    â€œI buy all my sister’s mounts for her,” Marcus replied.
    â€œAnd is she a good horsewoman?”
    â€œThe best, since I taught her myself. Eleanor rides neck or nothing, just as your sister Lilian reportedly enjoys doing.”
    â€œLily does indeed ride like a hellion,” Arabella replied with a fond smile.
    â€œI should like to meet her and Roslyn one of these days.”
    She sent Marcus a provocative glance. “We shall see.”
    â€œPerhaps I’ll invite Eleanor here for a visit. She would enjoy riding here far more than the tame environs of Hyde Park.”
    â€œShe lives in London with you?”
    â€œIn London, but not with me. With our elderly aunt, who acts as her chaperone. Eleanor moved there for her comeout three years ago and chose to stay.”
    â€œIf you have been her guardian for so long, did you try to marry her off the way you planned to do us?”
    Amusement curved his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of trying to play matchmaker for my sister. Thankfully there is no need, since as an heiress, she can have her pick of suitors. At the moment, like you she is resolved to remain single—although she has been betrothed twice. Both times she called off the engagement. Our aunt fears Eleanor is earning a reputation as a jilt.”
    Arabella’s eyebrow rose quizzically. “I expect she had a good reason.”
    â€œShe decided she wasn’t in love after all,” Marcus answered lightly. He turned his head to study Arabella. “I am curious about your betrothal. Did you love your viscount?”
    Arabella couldn’t restrain her wince. It was still painful to remember her former betrothal to George, Viscount Underwood. She had indeed loved him. She’d believed in a future with him, the hope for children.
    Realizing that Marcus was waiting for her reply, however, she composed her features to blandness. She was reluctant to answer such a personal question, but perhaps he deserved to know why she had no intention of entertaining his offer of marriage.
    â€œYes, I loved him,” Arabella said, keeping her tone even. “It was the only reason I accepted his proposal, even though it was considered an excellent match and precisely what was