Page 31 of In the Prince's Bed

“Looks like you’ll have to go without your poor hat,” she said.

“Not a chance.” He balanced it atop his head. “This and my mud-spattered breeches might convince them to ban me from the reading.”

“Don’t count on it. I doubt anyone there would even notice.”

“Right, I forgot.” Eyes twinkling, he tossed the ruined hat aside. “Poets consider poetry more important than fashion.”

“I don’t know how you can joke after what just happened,” she said, as he strode back to her side. “My heart is still pounding.”

He helped her mount. “If I’d realized that was all I had to do to make your heart pound, I would have arranged a whole day of horseback rescues.”

“You could probably do it, too,” she retorted, as he mounted his own horse, and they started off. This time, as if by mutual consent, they took it slower, walking the horses along the busy street instead of trotting. “You were amazing. I’ve never seen anyone ride so magnificently. And the way you caught her before she fell! Where on earth did you learn such a thing?”

Alec had to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was Katherine probing into his past. “It was nothing. Something I picked up abroad.”

“That’s quite a something,” she persisted. “When you said you spent your time in the saddle, I never dreamed—”

“You’re not so bad a rider yourself.” He had to distract her fromhisriding. Besides, she did ride well, even in that silly sidesaddle Englishwomen had to use. “You caught that pony in no time.”

She blushed at his praise. “It was nothing, really. Anybody can catch a riderless pony. Whereas you—”

“—are grateful you made the effort.” He had to get her off this subject. “I wouldn’t have wanted to lose her.” Especially since it would have cost him dearly.

They’d reached the intersection, and as he watched her guide her mount expertly through it, he imagined her riding across the Cornish heath, her flaming hair unfurling behind her, her firm little behind shifting in the saddle as she adjusted to the horse’s motions. The same way she would adjust to Alec’s motions when he had her beneath him in bed—

He stamped out that tempting image. Riding a horse with an erection was damned uncomfortable.

As soon as they’d maneuvered through the intersection, she asked, “I take it you had lots of time to ride abroad?”

Good God, were they back to that? It served him right for letting his imagination wander. “I rode quite a bit. But apparently you did, too, out there in the country. Or so your mother said.”

Flushing, she ducked her head. “I amsosorry about Mama and her tactics. I had no idea she would do something so irresponsible in order to…well…”

“Get us alone?” Alec eagerly seized on the change of subject. “That’s not the only reason she sent Molly, is it? Tell the truth—your family didn’t leave all the servants in Cornwall, did they?” The best way to deflect unwanted questions was to ask your own.

She shifted her gaze to the road ahead. “It’s just that…I mean…” She sighed. “I suppose you might as well know. Papa’s death left us a bit pinched for funds. But that will change soon.”

How far might this sudden honesty of hers extend? “You mean, when you marry your dull poet?”

“How did you…that is, what—”

“I understand that Sir Sydney is quite wealthy.”

“Oh. Yes, he is.” Then irritation flared in her face. “But that’s not why I’m marrying him.”

“Of course not, Miss Marry-well,” he teased.

“Very funny,” she snapped. “But I don’t care about his money, because I—”

When she stopped short, he stared at her. Would she actually tell him of her inheritance? He probably shouldn’t let her. If she admitted to expecting a fortune, his one advantage would be gone. “It’s all right—I know you’re not the mercenary sort.”

She looked relieved. “Certainly not.”

“So whyareyou marrying Sydney? Because he’s one of those ‘decent’ men you so admire?”

“Not only that. We’ve been friends all our lives. And I care for him a great deal.”

“But you’re not in love with him.”