Page 13 of Make Mine a Marquess

Phoebe dismounted and Landon met her gaze over Lady Delmont’s head. She was surprised by the intensity in the dark depths, and her breath caught in her throat.

At that moment, the other men broke through the trees on horseback.

“Good God! What happened?” Lord Delmont dismounted and hurried toward his wife, his agitation evident in his fleshy jowls and red complexion.

“Her horse was frightened. The lady is fine. Isn’t that right?” Landon said.

Lady Delmont hiccupped. “Yes, if it wasn’t for the marquess and the miss.” She grasped Phoebe’s hand. “I shall not forget your bravery.”

“I’m happy all ended well,” Phoebe said.

The men, along with a groomsman, escorted Lady Delmont and the waiting women back to the manor. Phoebe lagged behind.

Landon waited until they were alone. “I motioned for you to slow down. Did you not hear?”

Startled at his harsh tone, she raised her chin. “I heard. I was helping her.”

“You could have been hurt.”

“You misunderstand. I’m an able horsewoman.” He could not know that riding was second nature or that she’d spent hours in the saddle as a girl, then later as a young woman. Riding was how she’d met her family’s groom, Philip.

“I do not doubt it. But riding well and putting yourself in danger are two entirely different things. You acted recklessly.”

She took a breath of utter astonishment. She couldn’t believe his audacity and glared back. “Are you always this high-handed?”

“Are you always this difficult?” he retorted.

“Are you?” she snapped back. He was infuriating. Then why did she find it refreshing to argue? She’d never bothered with Lord Willard.

With her betrothed, she was always poised, proper, bored.

But this man, this marquess, roused her fury and made her emotions spark. She felt flustered, flushed…alive.

His tone softened and the corner of his full lips tilted upward. “You may find it hard to believe, but I’m generally liked.”

“You’re right. I find that hard to believe, my lord.” Her pulse leaped. He reminded her of a pirate again. Dark. Dangerous. Devastating. She was amazed at the thrill he gave her. Almost.

She was rewarded with a flash of white teeth. “You’re lying. I think you like me.”

She gaped. Her heart slammed in her chest, a frightening sensation that warmed the cold center that had protected her for years. She shoved the unwelcome sensation aside. Before she could think of a scathing retort, he mounted his horse and rode away. It wasn’t until later that she realized he hadn’t even offered to help her mount her mare, however unnecessary that would have been.

Chapter Four

She was magnificent. The sight of Phoebe Dawson galloping after the distressed Lady Delmont was not one he would easily forget. He’d caught a glimpse of her as she’d flown past. Her lovely face had been intent, her blue eyes focused, her hair trailing behind her like a ribbon of silvery gold. He grudgingly admitted her skill in the saddle was impressive. He’d never met a woman with such courage. The ladies he’d known would have screeched and cried. They would never have gone after the runaway horse themselves.

But Phoebe had.

He’d experienced a pang of fear when he’d seen her in pursuit of the runaway horse and rider. It had immediately spurred him to action. His intent had been to prevent Phoebe from injury as much as to rescue Lady Delmont. Because, in order to gain revenge over Willard, he needed Phoebe. The stab of panic had been entirely justified.

That was the crux of his instinctive response. Nothing else.

Still, he could admire her courage, couldn’t he?

And when she’d stood up to him, all fiery and flushed from the ride, his tightly reined control had snapped. He’d called her reckless. She’d called him high-handed.

His well-laid plan could have dissipated in the heated moment, so he’d reined in his frustration and initial alarm, recalled his purpose, and remembered his intentions when it came to Miss Dawson. He’d realized she wasn’t a wallflower after their first encounter, but he hadn’t known the extent of her fearlessness. A woman like her would be full of passion.

Not for the first time, he wondered why she was with his cousin.