Page 1 of Dueling with the Duke
CHAPTER1
The Marvels of The Moors
The English Countryside, 1799
Bridget Ramsburry, the daughter of the Earl of Lincoln, rode her horse across the beautiful moors. There was an open landscape as far as the eye could see: rolling hills, thick patches of heather, the occasional tree dotting the landscape, and dew-stained green grass.
Covering it all was a two-foot layer of mist, undulating across the moors like a great grey sea. A sea that Bridget navigated on her majestic horse, its dark brown coat in stark contrast to the pale landscape and weather.
Bridget was naturally athletic and stood a little, not sitting on the saddle, pushing her horse faster and faster. Her long, blond hair, which was not covered by a thick leather riding cap, fluttered in the breeze created by the speed of her horse. She was a vision of grace and strength, with her long, flowing hair the color of golden wheat, her emerald-green eyes sparkling with determination, and her tall, lithe figure commanding attention.
She was free. It was the only place she could go to get away from her troubles. When she was out there, come rain or shine, her soul was cleansed.
Bridget looked up at the sky, seeing the outline of the sun behind the thick clouds. Rain was coming, but not for a while. She was not late yet, but with the time it would take to get back, she might be. If she rode hastily, she could make it.
Bridget turned her horse to begin her return to Ramsburry Manor when she spotted someone else on the moors.
She might not have been intrigued if it were a group of riders, but a solitary rider like her piqued her interest. She did not spur her horse just yet, watching the gentleman ride at speed. It was impressive how fast he was able to push his horse, streaking toward her.
Not quite toward her. He was set to pass her by at some distance but diverted his course and slowed on approach. Bridget might have been afraid to be approached by a man alone on the moors, but she had respect for anyone who rode alone. Besides, she could tell by the way he treated his horse that he was no threat to her.
The man came at pace, only slowing when he was very close, and even then, he had to turn his horse at the last moment and circle her a couple of times before he was able to calm the animal.
“Good day,” he greeted, touching a finger to his riding cap.
“Good day,” Bridget replied.
She had to constantly turn her head to keep track of the man as he circled her. She was slightly annoyed by his energy and the fact that he did not fully stop, but there was also something about him she could not quite put her finger on.
“I don’t often see women out here alone,” the gentleman noted.
“It is not so unusual,” Bridget said.
Itwasunusual, but she was on a mission to make the unusual more usual for women. Just because she was a woman did not mean she could not ride her horse alone or do a dozen other things.
“Quite,” the gentleman uttered with a smile. He looked at her knowingly, as if they had met before.
“Your horse is beautiful,” Bridget noted.
She looked from the animal to the gentleman. He might be considered beautiful, too, if she was currently focused on such things. He had green eyes like her, thick black hair, and a commanding presence. Sitting atop a horse always made a man look larger and more powerful, but she could see the gentleman was all of that without the horse.
“Yes, beautiful beasts out on the moors,” the gentleman agreed, looking her up and down.
The look both irritated and intrigued her, and she blatantly looked him up and down.
The gentleman laughed, his face brightening instantly.
She could tell he was well-to-do in some way by his riding attire. He wore an elegant riding habit covered in a flowing black cloak. He flexed his fingers beneath his riding gloves, keeping a tight hold of the reins.
He circled her again, fully checking her out, and while Bridget didn’t want to be on show for a man, there was something about a clandestine meeting in the moors—even though it was not really clandestine—that intrigued her.
“I must ride!” he announced suddenly. “I have somewhere to be.”
“Don’t we all,” Bridget replied.
The gentleman touched a finger to his riding cap again. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we bump into each other again.”
“Yes.” Bridget swallowed.
