Page 162 of Rogue of My Heart

As Mr. Epperson tied the last strap, he gave the mare a gentle scratch behind her ears. “She’s all ready to go, my lady.” He led the horse over to a mounting block and assisted Albina into the saddle.

“Thank you, Mr. Epperson.”

After tipping his hat to her, he walked away.

Two hours later, Albina trotted back into the stable yard, her cheeks flushed and her breathing heavy from her exertions.

Mr. Epperson was there to assist her down from the mare’s back.

“Did you have a nice ride?” he asked.

After she’d smoothed her skirts around her, she offered him a bright smile. “Most certainly. Lulu is a delight!” She patted the dappled nose, laughing slightly when the mare nickered at her. “I’d forgotten how calm one could feel after a brisk gallop though the countryside. Other than Hyde Park in London, there isn’t much occasion for it. It’s entirely too crowded.”

“I imagine so.” Mr. Epperson shook his head. “I’ve had little need to go to the city myself, and I’m glad of it. I’m content right here, looking after Lord Beauley’s horses.”

Albina studied him for a moment. Even though she had been well bred, brought up with fine dresses and the best education to be had, though she had never wanted for anything, she found that she was almost envious of the ease with which Mr. Epperson spoke of his day-to-day chores. He was a commoner, who had likely been brought up with very little, expected to serve others from an early age, yet he appreciated something as simple as a stable full of horses to care for.

She sighed inwardly, thinking how nice it must be to be able to eschew the finer things in life and be able to live with such simple comforts. Unfortunately, as the daughter of a baron, then the wife to a viscount, she had never had that luxury.

In fact, the closest she had ever come to feeling such freedom was the last time she had been at Beauley Hall. How nice it would be to turn the clock back and relive those days. Unfortunately, all she could do now was move forward and hope that she might be able to find a portion of that careless abandon once more.

Maybe then, the words that had become absent would return to her.

Albina walked back to the house so lost in thought that she turned a corner — and ran right into a solid male chest.

Startled, she instantly stepped backward, but strong arms reached out to steady her. Her heart instantly began to beat at a steady gallop when she looked up and saw Michael, his tall form silhouetted by the sun at his back. He stood stiffly, as if he was too stunned by her presence to move, but then his jaw hardened and he released her, offering a curt nod. “Pardon me.”

* * *

He started to move past her, the action finally causing her throat to work properly. “I wanted to apologize… for last night.” She swallowed heavily. This was turning out to be harder than she’d imagined.

He eyed her intently for a few seconds, a flash of… something in those brown eyes. Finally, he said evenly, “I was the one at fault. I should have told you.”

She supposed that was as close to an acceptance that she was going to get as he strode up the stairs and disappeared into the house.

She followed him into the foyer where he was shrugging out of his muddied coat and boots before handing them off to the butler. Even with his trousers caked with mud, his sweat dampened shirt clinging to his still muscular body like a second skin, his cravat loosened as if he’d pulled on it in irritation, he still looked more handsome than any man she’d ever set eyes on.

Michael felt restless, as if a thousand ants had suddenly taken it upon themselves to turn him into their hill. He wished he hadn’t touched Albina when she’d collided into him, for while it was nothing more than a simple touch, an action that normally would have been inconsequential, just the sight of his hands on her caused a stirring in his loins that he’d long denied.

For five years, to be precise.

He swallowed hard at the rush of desire that surged to the surface. He had to get away from her now or else drag her upstairs and make love to her until they were so exhausted that neither of them could think straight.

“I need to get cleaned up,” he murmured tightly.

When he started to move around her, she asked abruptly, “Is there anyone else left?”

He sighed, forced to turn back to her with a lifted brow.

Albina’s cheeks colored slightly, and he had to clench his fists at his sides to keep from taking her in his arms. She was the only mature, married woman of his acquaintance that still blushed like a debutante —

especially in the bedchamber.

He barely withheld a groan. “If you recall, after we went to London I closed up the estate, retaining only a skeleton crew, so most of the staff went to seek other positions. Other than the housekeeper and the cook, Mrs. Dryler, the rest moved on.”

* * *

Instantly, her hazel eyes lit up and Michael recalled, quite vividly, other times her eyes would sparkle so remarkably — when she was angry, incandescently happy — or when he brought her to the pinnacle of pleasure…