Miss Spencer Rides Astride (Heroines on Horseback) Read Online Free PDF

back to the caravan to sit upon one gaily painted wheel. He watched her idly, one leg crossed over the other, while she shook her head and touched the curls escaping her hat. She knew she looked foolish whenever he dropped her suddenly, and she couldn’t think why he did it to her. To test her, perhaps, to judge her affections. She ought to have been terribly insulted, not just by his attentions, but by his abrupt lack of them. Except, of course, that his suspicions were warranted.  
    He surely knew that she was here seeking escape, not love. But why would he care? Men only wanted one thing, of course. She wasn’t ignorant.
    Len shrugged. “Wanton, all right,” he nodded, picking up his pipe. “I’ve not enough time for ye now,” he went on without regret. “I’ve got a meetin’. Ye should’ve come sooner. I expected ye.”
    “I couldn’t,” Grainne began again, annoyed, but he interrupted her.
    “Come tomorrow, at noon, and we’ll have a bit of fun.”
    She nodded, frustrated, her body aching. She wanted a bit of fun now. And she wanted to feel secure in his affections. This Mr. Archer’s coming… she shivered. The walls were really growing close now.  
    Gypsies never stayed in one place long. When he left, she needed to go with him.
    “Mad at me, lass?” he asked softly.
    Grainne looked at the grass. It was time to play the lady. “Do I not please you, Len?” she asked, hating herself as she said the words. “Do you not want to be with me?”
    Len laughed. “Please me? Please me, Grainne Spencer? My God, lass, I want to lock us both inside this caravan and not come out for a month! But ye’ve got yer honor, and I’ve got my own, of a sort. Things have to be done proper, love.”
    She was at his side in an instant, gripping his arm with strong hands. “You tell me what you mean by that, Lennor,” she demanded, for once as strong with the gypsy as she was with everyone else in her life.  
    “I’ve a meetin’ to get to,” he repeated. “The cousins are thinkin’ of buyin’ a wee ship.”
    “A wee ship!” Grainne was outraged. “And what has that to do with me?”
    “We was thinkin’a leavin’ Ireland,” Len continued, unperturbed by her temper. “Cross to Brittany. See the continent.”
    “There are wars there,” Grainne said unsteadily. She had not thought to leave Ireland, just to quietly disappear. “And what of me?”
    “There are ways around wars,” Len said easily. “And as for ye, lass, why, I’m takin’ ye as my fair bride.”
    She let go of his arm, for the strength had gone out of her and she thought she might have to sit down. She put a hand to her swimming head. Bride!  
    She had done it!  
    “Ye’d make a bonny gypsy,” Len said, catching her about the waist again. “What say ye, sweet Grainne? Will ye share my fire? Will ye warm my bed?”
    Grainne closed her eyes, dizzy with excitement. She thought of she and Len, pressed close together on the box of the caravan, swaying through the night with the stars their only ceiling and their horses their only company. She thought of lying beside him as the fire burned down to glowing embers, keeping one another warm. She thought of waking beside him, stroking her fingers down his lean, tanned body, and feeling his lips upon hers for a sweet good-morning kiss.  
    He was a good kisser, after all, she thought.
    She thought of never, ever, sitting in a parlor knitting stockings.
    She thought she’d die of happiness.
    “Of course I will, my love,” she declared throatily. “Just say when.”

CHAPTER FIVE

    Grainne begged to be excused from the supper table, her dishes nearly untouched.
    Her father watched her curiously. “Are you sick, Grainne? Perhaps you had better take tomorrow easy. I would rather not see you falling ill with the hunting season upon us.”
    “Oh no!” She flushed with horror. If she could not go out on the morrow, she would not be able to meet Len at noon as she had promised. Suppose he