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I fought to control my racing pulse. “I heard a gunshot. It must have frightened her.” Then, much to my embarrassment, my teeth chattered loudly.

Instead of loosening his grip on me, he tightened it. “Bridget, I am truly sorry, especially after what you told me regarding your experience with your brother. I would never willingly endanger you. If only I could prove to you my regard.”

When I didn’t answer, he lifted my chin with his finger, his gaze pleading as it met mine. The wind tore at his hair and his eyes darkened.

Before I could rethink my actions, I reached with one gloved hand and touched his cheek. His mouth parted. I could not imagine feeling safer than I did at that moment. He looked so concerned, I could not restrain myself.

I leaned into him and brushed my lips against his to reassure him I would be fine. Just a quick kiss. A shudder rippled through him.

“Bridget.” He murmured my name against my mouth, as if to ask permission, and then he kissed me. His hand at the back of my head, his lips pressed a searing heat against mine. I was lost in the moment, inhaling his scent of leather and sandalwood. Could there be a more heavenly combination?

When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard. A low groan escaped him.

“Forgive me,” he rasped.

My mouth dried as I struggled for composure. My lips were swollen. I could no longer deny my attraction to him. I pulled back, and he released his hold on me. If anyone spied us alone together, embracing no less, I would be utterly ruined.

Annabelle was nowhere to be seen. Father and Mr. Harrington were gone as well. What must Rafe think of my behavior? A hoyden, no doubt.

“I should not have...” I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, unwittingly drawing his attention again to my mouth.

I blew out an exasperated breath. “It is completely my fault. I suppose you might blame it on my romantic fancies. A runaway horse and a near-death experience. Regardless, I am of the firm opinion that a woman ought to be kissed once in her life. And kissed well. As a vicar’s daughter, I can assure you that does not happen.

So, you see, the fault is entirely mine. ”

As much as I tried to sound unfazed, I could not keep the tiniest quaver out of my voice.

“It is not your fault. Truthfully, I have thought of nothing less than...” He stopped himself, his voice hoarse. Then he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.

“Bridget, I do not take this action lightly. I have no desire to endanger your reputation.”

I placed a hand on his chest. “No, Rafe. It was nothing more than impetuousness. Banish any thoughts of blame. You’ve done quite enough rescuing today as things stand. Let us pretend it never happened.”

“How can I? At least allow me to do the honorable action,” he replied tightly.

I felt the muscles in his arm strain. Dread pooled in my stomach. His heated gaze pinned me. I felt as helpless as Medusa’s prey, now turned to stone and completely unable to move or think.

“Allow me to marry you,” he persisted.

Numb with shock, I could only stare at him. He leaned closer, the scent of sandalwood and leather enveloping me.

“Bridget, I won’t see you compromised.”

My mouth dried at those hateful words. I was a burden. An obligation. I would never enter matrimony under such circumstances. I wanted what my father had with my mother. Love. Love stretching far beyond mere duty. Trust a military man to revert to obligations.

“We will speak no more of this incident,” I repeated firmly, though my breath hitched, and my fingers twisted the fabric of my gown as if I could anchor myself.

A wave of heat rushed to my face, betraying the calm I struggled to maintain.

Was I a fool to say no? It was also a sacred commitment, binding two souls for better or worse for a lifetime.

An unreadable expression crossed Rafe’s chiseled face the longer I hesitated.

With his brow furrowed into lines, I struggled to decipher what he was thinking.

If anything, I had endeavored to put more space between us.

Riding sidesaddle would prove impossible, but so was being nestled on his lap.

I could hardly swing my leg over to ride astride.

As if sensing my dilemma, he secured his grip.

“No need to hold me quite so firmly. Unless you think Chaucer will bolt.” When I looked at him, I caught sight of that troublesome muscle jumping within his jaw.

The return to the abbey felt abysmally long, even if Rafe held the reins lightly, his arms brushing against mine, but never confining.

As I replayed the day’s events, shame washed over me. He had revealed his soul, and I had done the same. I had no desire to entrap him, even though I had initiated the kiss. A pox on that spontaneous nature of mine—it would prove to be the death of me.

When we halted at the abbey, Mr. Whittle waited in the courtyard.

“My lord, we were about to search for you and Miss Littleton. Mr. Spencer caught Annabelle’s reins and brought her to the stall.”

“A gunshot startled the horse and she ran away with Miss Littleton. I was fortunate enough to pull her from Annabelle before she came to harm,” Rafe replied. He sounded tired. Frustrated even.

Eyebrows raised practically to his forehead, Mr. Whittle silently snatched the stool and placed it next to Chaucer.

Reaching for a hand, he helped me dismount, but my legs wobbled all the same.

I groaned inside at the picture of impropriety we must have presented, me riding on his lap for the staff to witness.

“There you go, miss. What a horrible fright for a lady.”

A lady. I had been anything but during my ride. Cheeks flaming, I kept my gaze fixed forward, refusing to glance at Rafe to see his reaction. When I finally peeked at him, he had dismounted his horse. He kept his attention solely on Mr. Whittle. “Did you see any strangers out in the fields?”

Mr. Whittle shook his head, his features drawn as he reached for Chaucer’s reins. “No, my lord. I did not. But I’m uncertain that was all the trouble. Somehow, someone had loosened the saddle girth on the mare.”