Page 45 of The Lord Meets His Lady
Geese flew overhead. The birds would settle in for winter, and when the season was ripe, they’d leave. It was what birds did. Was he so different? Across the pasture, a golden-haired figure emerged from the Pallinsburn woods. Miss Turner, ever curious about her surroundings, pulled her red hood up, watching them across the distance.
She was waiting for him. He was sure of it.
Squirming on his saddle, he wanted sorely to be with her. In all the wrong ways.
“I need to leave for a few hours,” he said.
“Will you consider my idea? The gambling?”
Marcus flipped up his collar and steered Khan in a wide circle. Neck arching, Khan gamboled sideways. His horse craved excitement. So did he.
“Marcus?”
“Yes,” he barked, eyeing open land to the west. “I’ll consider it.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Learmouth village. I need a hard, fast ride.”
The sky darkening, he hunched forward, his knees pressing Khan’s withers. With a snort, his horse lunged, galloping full speed at the stone fence.
