Regency Romance Omnibus 2018: Dominate Dukes & Tenacious Women

“Robert, you beast!” She swatted at him, small ineffectual hits that made him laugh out loud. “Stop this minute or I shall throw you in the pond.”

“I shall love to see you try.” He retorted even as he moved out of her reach.

The horses left grazing around the stream neighed and the couple suddenly remembered their surrounding. Somehow they had fallen into a camaraderie that filled then with a sense of wonderment and had eyes for each other only. Even the sky was ignored and it had turned a dark cast. Amelia looked up, after the storm the night before she doubted the sky would release rain so soon.

“I love your favorite haunt, have you another?” He interrupted her avid perusal of the sky.

She startled softly and smiled at him. “I found a fox hole once.”

He had her attention immediately. “Did you see the fox itself?”

“Only its kits.” Even more dangerous, but then she was no conventional miss.

“Hmm,” he grunted.

“I still recall the area,” she offered sheepishly.

He looked at her then, remembering the comment that caused the fight. “I did not know you would be taking me on a fox hunt.”

“Hunting? No one is hunting,” she reiterated with another smile. Now he looked at her and she looked positively on fire.

“Do not be so fierce,” he said with not a little amusement at her and gestured towards the grazing horses.

They turned back to their horses. This time she allowed him to help her up and he acknowledged her sacrifice. “There miss, you are safely ensconced on your high horse.”

“Robert, you beast!” She tried to swat him with the reins in her hand but he danced out of reach.

He mounted his horse and they turned away from the bubbling brook. Less than a furlough away lightning cracked through the skies with a sudden gust of damp wind.

“Ah. The storm has come.” Then the first heavy drops started to fall. She spurred her hose and started off towards the stables with him in hot pursuit. They had hardly gone a short distance before she realized it was a futile thing to aim for the stables. The sky was dark, almost like night, and the heavy rain fell in heavy sheets that obscured the road. At this pace they could be easily lost or have a horse fall into a divot and throw one of them. They couldn’t stand in the raging rain either, not with the wind whipping like a mad thing.

“Follow me!” She suddenly turned on the conviction of a recent memory.

“Amelia, wait.” She was going in the wrong direction, that much he knew, but the rain stole the words and he had no choice except to follow her as she rode away. He tried to catch her attention and in his haste almost lost his seat. A suddenly looming shadow explained her pellmell dash down this road. Shelter.

They abandoned the horses at the front of the simple lodge and scrambled in quickly. They were already drenched but it was a relief to escape from the freezing rain. Teeth chattering, Amelia pushed the door open and walked in. The room was cold but an improvement to the rain.

The gamekeeper’s lodge was clean and dry, though it was sparsely furnished. He was glad to find wood stacked in the fireplace with a bit of slightly damp kindling which could be coaxed to burn with careful handling. He snagged the flint stones from the mantle, and bent down to build a fire.

He turned once to look at her, teeth chattering and pale eyed. “Go search for other coverings. I am sure there is bound to be some in this place, wherever it is.”

“It is the gamekeeper’s lodge. Unused for now. We dismissed our last man for poaching.” She was standing in the middle of a widening puddle on the floor.

“Damned nuisance he must have been. Regardless, you must shed your drenched clothes if you don’t want to suffer a head cold.” He advised her and turned back to sparking the flint stones together.

“True, let me see if this place offers more than the promise of fire.” She stood, dripping hands curled on her arms, to trudge up the side of the room. After only a few minutes she discovered two things. One, that the place was kept in excellent condition per her instructions, and the other? There was not a single stitch to be found anywhere. But there was a bed tick without linen and that brought a blush to her cheeks for some reason. She waded down to the fireplace to report her findings.

Robert was nowhere to be found but his coat was hanging by the fireplace. There were not a lot of places to hide so she waited, warming herself by the fire. He would not venture very far without his coat all in this rain. The slamming of the door announced his arrival.

“Robert you are drenched. What were you doing in the rain again? Look at you!” He was a magnificent sight. His drenched linen shirt molded to his body, followed every roll of muscle. His breeches were glued to his thighs and afforded her a view that was much too titillating. She was suddenly warm in the cozy room, something she could not entirely attribute to the warm fire burning in the grate.

“I had to unsaddle the horses, poor things,” he explained. He tried to wring the excess water from his hair and wipe his face.

“Oh.” She was ashamed she had not thought of that, and they were her own horses. “Thank you, Robert.”

“Come closer to the fireplace.” He pulled a wooden chair close to the fire but not too close.

“There is not a single pie