The Taming of Ryder Cavanaugh (Cynster #20) - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,116
to mar the moments as she settled into her new home, the incident largely faded from their collective consciousness.
Enough for Mary to decide that it was time Ryder took her for a ride about the estate. Seated beside him at the breakfast table, she made her request, before he could reply adding, “As I mentioned last night, I think we should invite all the estate families and workers to a picnic later in the summer, and before we do I’d like to get a better idea of the estate and all those who live on it.” She glanced at his face. “And you are unarguably the best source of information on that subject.” She arched her brows. “So when can we go?”
Accustomed by now to her manipulative ploys—her last question presumed he’d agreed—Ryder looked at her and considered her request, yet her picnic was precisely the sort of event he would like to see instituted, the sort of major estate annual function Raventhorne currently lacked and that he’d hoped his wife would attend to. And, after all, he would be with her. He nodded. “All right.” Seeing triumph light her face, he raised his cup to hide his amused grin. “When are you free?”
She’d noticed his amusement and blinked her big blue eyes at him. “Whenever you are.”
The challenge in the words ensured they met in her sitting room immediately they’d changed into their riding clothes. He wasn’t surprised to discover her riding habit was in a shade of mid-blue, but the frogging over her breasts, the jacket’s tight waist, and the draped and flowing skirt fixed his attention; he followed her out of the door and was halfway around the gallery before his gaze rose and he noticed the bobbing feather in the tiny cap anchored atop her curls.
She strode along at her usual forceful pace and the feather bobbed, and he found himself grinning foolishly.
He showed her the fastest way out of the house to the stables. He’d sent word ahead, and their horses were saddled and waiting; his raking gray hunter, Julius, and the nimble-footed bay mare she’d had sent from London were both shifting restlessly, eager for a run, their hooves clacking on the cobbles of the stable yard.
Ryder cast his eyes assessingly over the mare, then lifted Mary to her saddle. He watched as she settled and accepted the reins from the groom. “I take it she’s from Demon’s stables?”
“Yes.” She looped the reins through her gloved fingers with casual expertise. “He provides all the family’s horses.”
“I’ve heard he’s careful about matching horses to riders.”
Clearly recognizing the question behind his statement, she smiled and nodded. “Indeed—he refuses to let us ride any beast we can’t control.” Leaning forward, she smoothed a palm over the mare’s glossy neck. Arched a brow as she met his eyes. “So we all learn to control the animals we ride.”
He held her gaze for a finite moment, trying to decide whether the double entendre was deliberate or not, then snorted and turned away.
Accepting the reins of his big gelding, he swung up to the saddle. The instant he’d settled, Mary flicked him a glance and led the way out of the stable yard.
He drew level in the forecourt, and with a nod directed her across a gentle grassy slope. “How are you with fences and hedges?”
She’d been assessing the gray’s points; raising her gaze to Ryder’s eyes, she arched a haughty brow. “Lucinda and I can take anything you and that brute can.”
Having noted how steady, how assured in the saddle she rode, he suspected that was no idle boast, but rather than rise to her lure, he nodded and said, “Very well. We’ll see.”
She softly humphed but fluidly followed him as he led the way over the first fence and into the field beyond. They cantered through the fields and paddocks of the home farm, but both horses remained restless, wanting to run.
As they left the fields and turned toward the woods, taking a well-worn bridle path, he called, “Let’s give them a chance to get rid of their fidgets—there’s a long glade just ahead.”
“Lovely! Lead on.”
He did; without exchanging so much as a glance, the instant they saw the glade ahead both dropped their reins, let their horses stretch their legs, and side by side raced into a flat gallop.
Both horses flew. The gray was stronger, but the mare was sleek and had plenty of power. Ryder found himself grinning delightedly as neck and neck they thundered down