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when Angelina appeared on the stairs he heard not a word. For the first time in his life Alex was rendered speechless as his eyes fastened on the young woman wearing a high-waisted white gauze dress flecked with gold descending the stairs. Her lustrous hair was drawn from her face with a thin strand of white ribbon, leaving the heavy tresses to tumble freely down her back to her waist. Angelina possessed the grace and beauty of a Grecian goddess and the regal bearing of a queen. Her presence reacted on everyone assembled like a rare sunburst.

      In a shifting blur of people, of colour and flashing jewels that moved beneath her eyes, Angelina saw Alex. Magnificent in an olive green coat and white breeches, he was striding towards the stairs to meet her. Angelina’s gaze went to the woman he had left standing, and she saw a face ice cold, the eyes glowering up at her. Steeling herself, she looked nonchalantly away.

      When she reached the bottom step Alex took her hand. There was a twinkle in his eyes, and a slow, appreciative smile worked its way across his face as his eyes leisurely roamed over her body. The unspoken compliment made her blood run warm.

      ‘You look entrancing,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘I’m delighted you were able to join us—if tardily.’

      ‘I’m sorry. Am I late?’ The look she gave him was one of unadulterated innocence.

      ‘You know you are. What were you trying to do? Hold out to make a grand entrance?’

      ‘What? Me? Really, Alex—you know me better than that,’ she murmured quietly, meaningfully.

      He glanced down at her with a hooded gaze. ‘Do I?’

      She smiled impishly. ‘No one knows me better,’ she breathed.

      ‘Minx,’ he replied. ‘Come and meet my guests before you say something that might embarrass us both.’

      ‘You, my lord? Embarrassed? Never.’

      Blind to the satisfied, conspiratorial smiles Patience and Verity exchanged, Alex’s manner was that of pride as he calmly presented Angelina to his house guests—a polite, friendly gathering, and some of the more sedate members of London’s haut monde.

      Lavinia, who cleverly contrived to place herself on Alex’s right-hand side at the end of the long dining table, gave Angelina a cool glance and then directed all her attention on their host.

      Seated at the head of the table, Alex found his eyes drawn to Angelina like a magnet, where she sat halfway down the table, sandwiched between Nathan and Lord Asquith. She lit up the room simply by being present. Looking for unease on her face, he found nothing but calm and the soft glow of light in her velvet-dark eyes. Despite her inexperience in social repartee, she was extremely popular. She became lively, amiable, a laughing, beautiful young woman in possession of a natural wit and intelligence.

      The following morning found a large complement of guests out for the ride into Arlington village. The stable yard was a hive of colourful activity, the atmosphere jovial and relaxed as people mounted Alex’s splendid horses—some having brought their own, all champing at their bits, eager for the ride.

      Looking extremely fetching in a ruby-red riding dress, with a matching hat cocked at an impudent angle atop bunches of delectable ringlets that bounced delightfully when she moved her head, Angelina appeared among them. With his noble head leaning over the stable door, Forest Shadow whickered on seeing her, stretching out its nose and shaking its mane vigorously.

      ‘Poor thing,’ she whispered, removing her glove and rubbing his velvety nose affectionately. ‘What an infuriating tyrant your master is. How awful for you having to stay behind while all your friends ride out without you.’

      At that moment Alex appeared by her side. ‘Tyrant I may be, lady, but that horse is staying here.’ Taking her elbow, he propelled her away towards a snowy white mare Trimble was holding. ‘Let me introduce you to Sheba. Sheba is to be your mount for today.’ He scowled when he saw her cast a regretful glance over her shoulder at Forest Shadow. ‘Forget it, Angelina,’ he said firmly, taking the reins from Trimble and leading Sheba to a quiet corner of the yard.

      Angelina followed, looking at Alex admiringly, thinking how attractive he was, with his darkly handsome face and the breeze lightly ruffling his shiny black hair. He was resplendent in an impeccably tailored dark-brown riding coat. His gleaming white neckcloth was perfectly tied, and snug-fitting buckskin breeches disappeared into highly polished tan riding boots. But there was still an aggressive virility about him, an uncompromising authority and infuriating arrogance that was not to her liking.

      When he brought the horse to a halt he turned, the heat of his gaze travelling the full length of her in a slow, appreciative perusal, before making a leisurely inspection of her face upturned to his.

      ‘I’m pleased to see you are appropriately dressed for the ride.’

      ‘Why—did you think I wouldn’t be?’ she asked, smiling provocatively at him out of the corners of her eyes.

      ‘Thank God you didn’t decide to wear those disgusting breeches. I half-expected you to turn up in them just to antagonise me,’ he remarked, curious as to whether her maid had told her he’d ordered her to burn them—and knowing how she would react when she realised he had. Her reply told him she hadn’t.

      ‘Why, Alex! As if I would,’ she gasped, feigning innocence, but inwardly goaded by the mocking amusement in his eyes. Then her cheeks dimpled as her lips suddenly curved in a vengeful smile. ‘Although I must confess that I did consider it. However, to save you from embarrassment and disgrace, not to mention the scandal it would cause, I decided against it.’

      ‘Then I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies,’ Alex jibed lightly. ‘Now—give me your opinion of Sheba.’

      ‘I’ll be able to do that better when I’ve ridden her.’ The mare rubbed her head against her, her soft dark eyes alive with intelligence. Angelina wrinkled her nose at the saddle with distaste, having forgotten she would be required to ride side-saddle. ‘How on earth can anyone be expected to communicate with the horse on that contraption—let alone stay on! I shall probably become unseated at the first obstacle and break my neck—which I am sure will fill your lordship with morbid delight,’ she retorted tartly.

      Alex grinned. ‘Heaven forbid! All the other ladies seem to manage it. You do ride side-saddle, I hope?’

      ‘Not since I was a girl—and I didn’t like it then. I love to ride, but this stupid saddle will take all the pleasure out of it. Still…’ she sighed out loud ‘…it’s a serious handicap, I confess, but because I have no wish to drive you to murderous fury today by insisting that the saddle be changed, I suppose I have no alternative but to get used to it.’

      ‘Very sensible. I’m happy that you are beginning to see things my way,’ Alex said with a wicked grin.

      ‘Don’t count on it.’

      ‘If you’re afraid to ride Sheba side-saddle—if it’s more than you can handle—simply say so,’ he suggested generously, a lazy, challenging, taunting smile tugging at his firm lips.

      Angelina merely glowered at him, affronted that he should dare suggest such a thing.

      ‘No lady rides like I saw you riding Forest Shadow the other day. Had anyone seen you, you would be ostracised from society before you’ve had a chance to enter it.’

      Running her hand over Sheba’s glossy flank, Angelina tossed her head, indifferent to his words. ‘That doesn’t concern me in the slightest.’

      ‘No,’ he chuckled, ‘I did not imagine for one moment that it would.’

      ‘Does Sheba have any peculiarities that I should know about before I risk life and limb?’

      Alex lifted one eyebrow lazily. ‘She’s as docile as a lamb.’

      ‘Not too docile, I hope. Although, should the horse balk, I shall be straight over her head.’ She scowled at Alex. ‘If I am, no doubt you will blame my poor horsemanship and not the

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