ways.
He’d expected to be tormented, too, so his dreams were no surprise. Some of his visions were honorable, some downright unmentionable, but always there, forceful, arousing, and compelling. He could not get her out of his head, and did not want to. One idea stood out above all others though. Mine…
Imogene Byron-Cole was meant for him.
He was lost. So lost, already.
And all he could think about—dream of—all he could see…was her.
THREE
How sweet is harmless solitude!
What can its joys control?
Tumults and noise may not intrude,
To interrupt the soul.
Marie Mollineau ~ ‘Solitude,’ 1670
IMOGENE went straight to Terra in the stall just like he’d expected. Graham watched everything from the doorway as he leaned against it.
Terra stamped her hooves and nickered, excited to see her mistress who draped her arms around the beast’s neck and rested her cheek there. Imogene’s eyes were closed as she indulged in the simple joy of reuniting. God she looked fine today, fitted into a blue riding dress that contrasted her colouring perfectly. He wanted to touch her.
What if she held on to me like that? Graham was reluctant to break the spell of the moment. He watched instead, a voyeur, held in his place by the scene before him. Finally he spoke up, “It is hard to tell who has missed the other more.”
Imogene jumped, releasing Terra and stepping away. “Oh, Lord Rothvale—you are h-here,” she stammered.
“I am.” He grinned at how she’d worded it. “That sounds as if you were anticipating me?” He asked the question and loved the flush that crept up her beautiful neck.
“No.” She swallowed hard and looked back at Terra, not at all effective in covering up her lie. “Yes well, Terra and I are very close. We have been together for five years and she is the dearest, best friend a girl could ever have. I should be lost without her.”
“Indeed, she is lucky to have such a loving, benevolent mistress. Will you ride today? It is very cold.” The idea of her off alone did not set well. At all.
“Yes, I shall. I’ve prepared for it and dressed warmly. I’m afraid I’m not content to sit inside all day.”
“And you ride alone? What if you should encounter trouble or have an accident?” He tried to keep his voice even but feared that was impossible. I’d never allow it if you were mine.
“That is a sentiment I hear often, my lord. My reply to it is this: I am a fairly capable rider, and Terra is reliable. My uncle, Sir Oliver, has restricted my riding to the Kenilbrooke estate when I am solitary, with Mr. Hargreave’s kind approval and knowledge. I must always notify Mr. Jacks, the manager when I set out, so he can mark the time as I am allowed two hours.” Her eyes swept down. “You see? I have many gallant protectors watching over me and we have worked out an arrangement that suits everybody.”
“It does not suit me.” He wanted to tell her to come into the house instead and that she would definitely not be riding alone today, but how in the hell could he do that? He had no claim over her. Not yet at least.
“I beg your pardon?” She widened her eyes at him.
“Miss Byron-Cole, I don’t doubt your level of competence, it is clearly evident you can ride, but you cannot say you have control over all the unexpected dangers that exist.” Graham knew he sounded hard but he did not want her to go alone and that was all there was to it.
“No sir, I cannot control every danger in the world,” she admitted, her face flushing. “Something I know to be true. Sadly, that has been made very clear to me in my life,” she trailed off, like she regretted saying the last part.
As it has also been made clear to me.
“So you would willingly expose yourself to danger, Miss Byron-Cole? How could you do it? And even to the ones who care for you?”
“Sir, I would not
He’d expected to be tormented, too, so his dreams were no surprise. Some of his visions were honorable, some downright unmentionable, but always there, forceful, arousing, and compelling. He could not get her out of his head, and did not want to. One idea stood out above all others though. Mine…
Imogene Byron-Cole was meant for him.
He was lost. So lost, already.
And all he could think about—dream of—all he could see…was her.
THREE
How sweet is harmless solitude!
What can its joys control?
Tumults and noise may not intrude,
To interrupt the soul.
Marie Mollineau ~ ‘Solitude,’ 1670
IMOGENE went straight to Terra in the stall just like he’d expected. Graham watched everything from the doorway as he leaned against it.
Terra stamped her hooves and nickered, excited to see her mistress who draped her arms around the beast’s neck and rested her cheek there. Imogene’s eyes were closed as she indulged in the simple joy of reuniting. God she looked fine today, fitted into a blue riding dress that contrasted her colouring perfectly. He wanted to touch her.
What if she held on to me like that? Graham was reluctant to break the spell of the moment. He watched instead, a voyeur, held in his place by the scene before him. Finally he spoke up, “It is hard to tell who has missed the other more.”
Imogene jumped, releasing Terra and stepping away. “Oh, Lord Rothvale—you are h-here,” she stammered.
“I am.” He grinned at how she’d worded it. “That sounds as if you were anticipating me?” He asked the question and loved the flush that crept up her beautiful neck.
“No.” She swallowed hard and looked back at Terra, not at all effective in covering up her lie. “Yes well, Terra and I are very close. We have been together for five years and she is the dearest, best friend a girl could ever have. I should be lost without her.”
“Indeed, she is lucky to have such a loving, benevolent mistress. Will you ride today? It is very cold.” The idea of her off alone did not set well. At all.
“Yes, I shall. I’ve prepared for it and dressed warmly. I’m afraid I’m not content to sit inside all day.”
“And you ride alone? What if you should encounter trouble or have an accident?” He tried to keep his voice even but feared that was impossible. I’d never allow it if you were mine.
“That is a sentiment I hear often, my lord. My reply to it is this: I am a fairly capable rider, and Terra is reliable. My uncle, Sir Oliver, has restricted my riding to the Kenilbrooke estate when I am solitary, with Mr. Hargreave’s kind approval and knowledge. I must always notify Mr. Jacks, the manager when I set out, so he can mark the time as I am allowed two hours.” Her eyes swept down. “You see? I have many gallant protectors watching over me and we have worked out an arrangement that suits everybody.”
“It does not suit me.” He wanted to tell her to come into the house instead and that she would definitely not be riding alone today, but how in the hell could he do that? He had no claim over her. Not yet at least.
“I beg your pardon?” She widened her eyes at him.
“Miss Byron-Cole, I don’t doubt your level of competence, it is clearly evident you can ride, but you cannot say you have control over all the unexpected dangers that exist.” Graham knew he sounded hard but he did not want her to go alone and that was all there was to it.
“No sir, I cannot control every danger in the world,” she admitted, her face flushing. “Something I know to be true. Sadly, that has been made very clear to me in my life,” she trailed off, like she regretted saying the last part.
As it has also been made clear to me.
“So you would willingly expose yourself to danger, Miss Byron-Cole? How could you do it? And even to the ones who care for you?”
“Sir, I would not
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