to gallop hell-for-leather over unfamiliar land, then she deserved to break her bloody neck, he told himself.
But as he stood in his stirrups and looked desperately around for any sign of movement, he felt fear seize his chest. Dio Madre, a fall from a fast-moving horse was always dangerous. Flying hooves could crush a skull or trample a body. Bones could snap like twigs….
A flutter of emerald wool suddenly stirred in the light greens and golds of the meadow grass.
He spurred forward.
“Ooof.” Kate grimaced as she tried to stand.
“Don’t try to move!” cried Marco as he vaulted out of his saddle.
She was already on her feet, though her legs were a little wobbly. The ostrich feather of her hat was bent in half and a streak of mud covered one side of her face, but otherwise she looked unharmed.
He released his pent-up breath in a roar. “A diavolo! You are bloody lucky to be alive!”
Kate plucked several stalks of straw from her disheveled curls. “No thanks to you.”
“Me? That’s just like a woman, to blame someone else for her own foolishness.” He stalked to her side. “What in the name of Lucifer were you thinking, to ride after me like a she-devil?”
Her expression turned mulish. “Why did you run away?”
Marco ignored the question. Taking her arm—none too gently—he led her over to the winded horses. “I give thanks to the Almighty that there are no broken bones!”
Kate’s frown softened. “I’ve just a few bumps and bruises—”
“I was speaking of your horse,” he snapped.
She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off with another harsh oath. “It would have been a great pity if an innocent animal had suffered for your recklessness. An inexperienced rider should never try to cross rough ground at a gallop.”
“I…” Kate bit her lip. “I… didn’t think. You are right. It was wrong and egregiously selfish of me to put my mare at risk. I saw your action as a challenge, and…”
“And you never back down from a challenge,” he said roughly. Fear still had him on edge. “Next time you wish to match your physical prowess against mine, use your brain as well as your body.”
She hugged her arms to her chest, her kidskin gloves chafing at the sleeves of her riding habit. “I have admitted my error, Lord Ghiradelli. It is not necessary to subject me to further scorn.”
Her frank admission caught him by surprise.
“As you see, pride goeth before a fall,” he muttered, unsettled by his own sudden impulse to gather her in his arms and whisper a comforting word in her ear. With her hat askew and her face covered with lopsided smudges, she looked oddly vulnerable.
A hot spark lit in her eyes, quickly dispelling the impression. “Well, if that is the case, you will no doubt be tumbling all the way to Hades.”
“Not from a horse,” he retorted. His first rush of relief had turned to righteous anger that she had put herself in such danger. “I know how to keep my arse in the saddle. Which is more than can be said for you, Miss Woodbridge. You may be an experienced rower, but you are a bloody awful rider!”
Rather than dignify his taunt with a reply, she turned away and grabbed up her crop from the ground.
“A moment,” he growled. Taking a firm grasp of her shoulder, he slapped his hand back and forth across her backside. “Let me help you pat the dust from your bottom.”
“Ass.” Wrenching free, Kate swung around.
This time Marco was ready for her. He caught her wrist. “My strike is even quicker than yours.”
“Yes—I’ve heard you are called Il Serpenti.”
“It’s not because of my hand, cara.” He curled a mocking smile. “Care to guess what part of me gave rise to the moniker?”
A flush stole to her cheeks.
“My soul, sweetheart.” He gave a sardonic laugh. “I have the morals of a snake.”
Kate fixed him with a furious glare. “That is likely the least of your faults.”
His smile slipped just a bit. How much about his background had Alessandra told her close friends? Surely she would not betray his painful, private past. “I would not have thought that the Circle of Sin engaged in girlish gossip. What tales has my cousin told you?”
“Of course Alessandra does not pass on any of the lurid details of your life. As if we would give a fig to hear them.” Lifting her nose in the air, she moved to her horse. However, the air of imperious disdain