Chapter Twelve

S he urged the horse on, faster than was sensible, because she had a plan. She wanted to know: was the Duke brave? Would he save her if he thought she was in danger? He had already saved her once, of course – but then, there had been no immediate danger to either of them. Now, she wanted to know what kind of man he truly was.

She found herself growing rather excited every time she planned one of these little tests.

It was the most interesting thing she had done in years, and she felt like she was truly getting to know the Duke to boot.

After testing him – something he always seemed to pass, she noted – she would feel a little guilty. And perhaps if she had thought through that afternoon’s ruse, she would have realised how foolish it was. How unfair to make the Duke think her life was in danger just to test him.

But at that moment, as excitement coursed through her veins, all she thought about was how he would react. She hoped, as the horse almost skidded on a sharp corner taken far too fast, that he was nearby – otherwise, this would all be for naught.

And then a dog barked somewhere in the distance, and the horse reared. Penelope did not have time to think. Her heart raced, and she clung desperately to the reins, very nearly being thrown off. She was an experienced horsewoman, but it seemed that her mount was not used to the normal noises of the countryside. Was it a new purchase? she thought to herself, even in her panic. Surely the animal had heard a dog’s bark before.

When the horse returned to all four legs, Penelope tightened her grip even more on the reins and tried to force herself to breathe normally. All was well. A near calamity – but nothing she couldn't handle. Now she would just gently trot the animal back to the stable and forget all about the test she had intended for the Duke.

But the horse had other ideas. Clearly used to the pace Penelope had set on the way back from the village, once its feet were firmly on the ground, it took off at a canter, far faster than Penelope was able to control. It did not, as she had planned, race into the courtyard, but instead bolted straight past the castle and towards the loch.

"Stop!" she screamed, tugging on the reins to no avail. "Stop!" At the rate they were going, they would soon both tumble into the loch – and she had no idea how cold or how deep it was. Yes, in theory, she could swim, but in a deep loch full of weeds, and in a heavy dress… She wasn't sure she would make it to the bank, let alone manage to save the horse, which seemed intent on propelling them both to their deaths.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the sound of thundering hooves filled her ears, and rough hands grabbed at her, unseating her from the horse she had been clinging to so desperately.

Yet she did not fall to the ground, as her mind expected her to, but instead was thrust onto a warm, solid horse that seemed to remain calm in spite of everything.

"Easy," the Duke called in an unwavering, strong voice. "Easy."

Penelope did not know whether it was the Duke’s voice, the realisation of what lay ahead, or the fact that the horse no longer bore her weight, but the animal reared once more and halted just before plunging into the loch.

It took Penelope’s mind a few moments to catch up with everything that had just happened. She blinked rapidly and realised she was shaking.

The Duke had one arm around her to keep her steady and hold the reins, and she leaned against it for support.

That had been close. Her silly plan had almost led to real tragedy. What would have happened if the Duke had not been nearby, already saddled on his horse? What if he had not reacted so quickly?

In silence, he turned the horse in the direction of the castle and clicked his tongue for her wayward mare to follow – which she did without protest.

"You really do have a propensity to find yourself in trouble, don't you," he said, his tone sardonic.

"I didn't mean to," Penelope said, her voice shaking, more affected by the incident than she would have liked to admit.

"Are you hurt?" the Duke asked.

"No…thanks to you."

"You're lucky I was nearby," the Duke said, and Penelope could not have agreed more. "What on earth spooked Delilah like that?"

"A dog barking," Penelope said truthfully, although she did not add that she had been riding the horse far faster than was sensible before the incident occurred.

She rather thought that, like her decision to sail with a storm brewing, he would scold her. And as right as he was, she did not want to be told how foolish she had been. She already knew that.

And she also knew that the Duke was indeed brave. He'd rescued her without a thought for himself, and didn’t that just endear him to her even more?

When they calmly approached the stables, the Duke vaulted off and then offered his hand to help Penelope down. He had done this before – but she had not known him then. Now, she knew so much about him. More than about any other eligible young man of her acquaintance. She knew he was rough and that he had little patience for women. But she also knew he was kind, sensible, brave, and fair. And when he helped her down, and she could feel the warmth of his body against hers, it sent a shiver down her spine.

She looked up at him, wanting to thank him again, but instead found herself speechless, staring into his dark eyes and feeling frozen to the spot.

And he was speechless too. He did not scold her, nor remove his hands from around her waist, until a stable boy appeared and led the errant Delilah away, breaking the moment.

"You should have some brandy," he said, stepping away quickly. "For the shock."

And then he strode away without a backward glance, leaving Penelope feeling rather intoxicated by his presence – and without having had the opportunity to thank him again for saving her.