Page 48 of Blame It on the Earl (The Duke's Estates 3)

She looked elated, which made Kenver think she ought to glow like that all the time. He—her husband—should be able to make it so. He would take that as a challenge, a quest.

She sat just out of reach. He would have to rise and take several steps to kiss her. Hardly any distance really. Their locked gaze went on. And on.

The Terefords appeared in the doorway and hesitated as if sensing the intense atmosphere.

“Good morning,” Sarah said brightly. “They have just brought fresh tea.”

The couple came in and sat down, ready as ever with cordial conversation.

It was a very good idea for them to get away on their own, Kenver thought, free from critical oversight and interruptions. The incessant, unpredictable, damnable interruptions! Marriage supposedly removed all impediments. Except that it didn’t.

They set off at midmorning. At the last moment, disaster threatened when they rode past Poldene’s front door and Kenver’s father came out with the dogs. Papa raised a hand as if to summon them, but Kenver pretended not to see and hurried the horses on.

Sarah drew in a deep breath as they left the grounds and cantered down the lane. The pall that hung over her in the house, even after Cecelia’s arrival and Cranston’s rout, began to lift again, as it had when she ventured away before. If only they could live elsewhere, she thought. Surely they would do better in almost any other place.

Scudding clouds raced across the sky. The air was less active at ground level, full of the scents of late-summer plants with a whiff of the sea. Her charming mare was ready to stretch her legs. Sarah patted her neck in appreciation.

“Whitefoot likes you,” said Kenver.

Sarah looked over with a smile. She’d spent her life thinking it was improper to ride out alone with a man. Now, with Kenver, it wasn’t. They could go where they liked, spend as much time at they pleased, do scandalous things. His smile was heart-stopping. He looked so very handsome in his riding dress. Why had they not done scandalous things? How did a young lady trained to avoid impropriety at all costs request them? As she’d found so often in her life, reading about a topic and speaking up were quite different things. The first was private and free-ranging, a vast freedom. The second was likely to cause raised eyebrows and shocked glances. Or worse. But she was a married woman now. She only needed to find a new voice.

Sarah urged her horse into a canter and then a gallop, venting her frustration with the rush of wind across her face and the exhilarating rhythm of her mare’s hooves.

Kenver caught up with her, giving her an admiring grin as they pounded along side by side.

They rode across a field of stubble and entered a tree-lined trace too narrow and hilly for carriages. It led them into a verdant valley with a stream running along the bottom and then up to a ridge that gave them a view over the countryside.

“There is Tresigan,” said Kenver, pointing.

Sarah saw that this stony ridge eventually became the cliff that backed the house. At this point, there was a zigzag path down. They took it, wound through a small wood, and came out at the entry to Tresigan’s short drive. “There’s a barn behind those trees,” Sarah said.

“The Dionysian trees?” he asked.

“The trees where there are no orgies,” replied Sarah, wanting to feel reckless.

“Yet.”

She was startled into a laugh, which turned into something more heated at the look in his hazel eyes.

They found the barn and left the horses well tended. Carrying the lanterns they’d brought, they headed for the back of the house.

Merlin emerged when they rounded the building’s rear corner.

“How could I have forgotten that you would be here,” Kenver said. “I suppose I hoped you’d gone.”

“Only Pendrennons today?” the bearded man asked. “No duke or duchess?”

Sarah thought there was something strange about the way he said the name. “No,” she replied.

“Then I would think you have no right to come.”

“My wife’s friends are happy for us to visit,” Kenver replied.

Or would be if they knew, Sarah amended silently.

“And you have no grounds to speak of rights,” Kenver added.

“Since I have none?”

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