Page 30 of The Highwayman's Bite

“That could be dangerous in the dark,” Madame Renarde said. “What if the horse turns an ankle?”

“That is a risk you may choose to take or decline,” Rhys admitted. “But that is your only option, for you cannot go out during the day.”

“Why not?” Vivian asked.

“I don’t want you to be seen.” Rhys avoided her gaze, as if there was more to it that he didn’t wish to divulge. “You are hostages, after all. I do not think you could refrain from calling for help, and then I would be forced to dispatch some poor, hapless fisherman as a result.”

Vivian sighed. She couldn’t picture him killing anyone, much less a fisherman, but thought it wise not to point that out. “Very well. I would like to ride now.”

Rhys grinned and replaced his slouch hat on his head and extended his arm to escort her. He locked Madame Renarde inside the cave when the companion tried to follow.

“That wasn’t very kind of you,” Vivian admonished him. “Surely Madame Renarde could at least walk along the beach while we ride.”

“And risk her wandering off to the nearest village?” Rhys shook his head as he led her up a narrow trail that seemed to be carved into the cliff face. “I think not. She is as eccentric as she is wily. Was her birth name Jean?”

Vivian nodded, taken aback by the abrupt inquiry. “Yes, but don’t you dare address her by that name. When she became Jeanette, her peers mocked her by insisting on calling her Jean, and they lived to regret it. She is one of the finest fencers I’ve ever seen.”

“Ah, so she taught you swordplay?” Rhys took her hand to help her up a particularly steep incline.

“Yes.” They reached the top of the cliff and saw the horses, both of which were tied to a squat pine tree and cropping the grass. Vivian was pleased that they were positioned in the lee of the stone face, so they weren’t battered by the wind.

Then a surprising realization struck her. Rhys didn’t have a horse of his own.

And if he didn’t have a horse, that meant that he robbed carriages afoot. Vivian thought back to the night they’d met. He had indeed been on foot when he’d robbed her carriage. Reflecting on it, that seemed very strange to her. How was he able to get away so fast? Furthermore, how did he travel the countryside and return to his home so swiftly?

It was yet another mystery about this infuriating man.

Her thoughts broke off as Rhys’s hands encircled her waist and he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She sucked in a surprised breath, momentarily wondering if he’d lured her outside to ravage her. But then he set her on the horse. The heat of his palms remained even after he released her.

It took an endless moment for her to recover from his touch. Only then did she realize that he seemed remarkably unaffected for one who’d been shot in the arm.

With no sidesaddle, Vivian had to adjust her skirts and throw her leg on the other side of the horse. Rhys regarded her with a nod of approval. “Did Madame Renarde teach you to ride astride?”

Vivian nodded. “It is of her opinion that all ladies should learn, and that riding side saddle is foolish and dangerous.”

“I quite agree,” Rhys said as he mounted the other horse. “I wonder what possessed society to require women to ride in such a silly manner in the first place.”

“I suspect that it is to make it more difficult for us to best a man in a race,” Vivian said. “But Madame Renarde told me the reason is even more ludicrous.”

“And what reason is that?” he inquired as they cantered along.

Vivian blushed. She’d nearly blurted something so indecent it was unthinkable. What magic did he weave that made her so comfortable talking to him? “I... ah, shouldn’t speak of such things.”

Rhys drew his horse closer to hers and regarded her with a smile that was sin incarnate. “I wager I can guess. Some people believe that the rocking of the horse against your cunny will make you aroused.”

Flames seemed to engulf her face as that dreadfully naughty word repeated itself in her mind. Worst of all, even though she’d never experienced any sort of carnal sensations on horseback, she certainly had felt something in that place when Rhys had kissed her. Vivian lifted her chin, fighting for composure. “You really shouldn’t speak in such a crude manner in a lady’s presence.”

“Pish-tosh.” Rhys used the mocking inflection of an aristocrat. “Madame Renarde taught you to fence and how to ride astride. You cannot tell me she didn’t teach you vulgar words.”

Vivian huffed in outrage. “She most certainly did not!”

“Then I shall be happy to be of service in that regard.” Rhys favored her with a rakish smile. “I have accumulated quite a salty vocabulary from my many travels.”

“And who is to say I have any wish to learn how to curse?” Vivian retorted, though in truth, she could not help but be curious.

Rhys shrugged. “You’ll never know when it could come in handy. Besides, at the least, it could alleviate your boredom since I lack embroidery hoops and thread.”

“I dislike needlework anyway,” Vivian admitted, drawing her horse to a canter.

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