Princess Charming (Legendary Lovers 1)

ehave long enough for us to leave the park.”

He sounded every inch the imperious nobleman, expecting instant obedience; he was a marquis, after all. And he was clearly giving her no choice but to accompany him.

His dispassionate behavior was one small consolation, Maura supposed. His sister might be trying to matchmake for him, but thankfully Beaufort did not seem interested in romance in the least.

With a sigh of resignation scraping past her tight throat, she allowed herself to be led away while trying to ignore the interested stares of the nearby park-goers.

Ash led a silent, brooding Miss Collyer out of the city, heading southwest toward Richmond. Once they reached the countryside, he returned her reins to her, since she seemed to have regained control of her militant emotions.

Ash maintained a similar silence during the ride, contemplating the odd amalgam of his own emotions. Upon watching Maura come to her horse’s defense, he’d felt a fierce anger on her behalf, as well as an outsized protectiveness. And now that the physical threat was past, he could only shake his head in amusement and admiration.

She was indeed one of a kind. He doubted even his feisty, headstrong sister would have assaulted a nobleman in a public park with his own riding whip, despite the sore provocation.

If he hadn’t been eager to champion Maura’s cause before, her actions just now would have convinced him. She was fearless, a tenacious fighter, but she badly needed a pacifying influence to curb her reckless impulses before her fiery passions landed her in even deeper trouble.

Ash’s mouth curved as he glanced at the beautiful hellion riding beside him. To think that he would be bent on keeping anyone out of trouble.

His ironical smile faded just as suddenly when he recalled the Wilde family conference last night, when Katharine had claimed to have found his perfect match. It was a jolt for Ash to realize that she had a point: Maura Collyer could indeed prove a compatible mate for him.

She was passionate, opinionated, tart-tongued, and prone to violence—just the sort of spirited female who most appealed to him. The kind who either fascinated or frightened men. And he was wholly fascinated.

That didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her for his bride, Ash rationalized. He wasn’t that smitten as to offer for her hand in marriage on so tenuous an acquaintance. But as much as he hated to admit it, perhaps his sister was right. He ought to at least explore the possibility that Maura Collyer could be his ideal match.

Seeing her glance wistfully at the fields flanking the road, Ash corralled his distracted thoughts.

“Shall we ride cross-country?” he asked.

When she quickly nodded in agreement, they left the main road and turned onto a country lane. As soon as they reached a grassy meadow, Maura guided her horse over a ditch and broke into a full gallop. Ash had to urge his bay for a burst of speed just to keep up with her.

Eventually they slowed, then dropped to a walk to cool off their mounts. Maura seemed reluctant to turn back, however, for the verdant meadow where they rode now was covered with spring wildflowers, and the warm sunshine beating down upon them seemed to soothe her.

After a time they stopped beside a stream to let their horses drink. No doubt they were trespassing on some farmer’s property, for they’d passed occasional barns and cottages and pastures populated by grazing livestock, but they were shielded from civilization now by a copse of sun-dappled willows.

To Ash’s surprise, Maura dismounted without his help and pulled off her gloves. Then, unpinning her feathered shako hat, she knelt beside the stream and splashed water on her face, perhaps to erase any remaining sign of tears.

When she was done, she didn’t rise. Instead she sank back upon the grassy slope and sat with her arms wrapped around her updrawn knees, staring at the bubbling stream.

Ash swung down also and left his horse to graze as he joined her on the grass. Her face was still wet, he noted, while damp tendrils of honey-blond hair that had escaped her chignon clung to her forehead and cheeks. When silently he handed her his handkerchief, she took it without comment.

“Why are you being so nice?” she finally asked in a low voice. “You should be scolding me for not heeding your advice.”

“I expect you are scolding yourself enough for the both of us.”

“I am,” she said despairingly. “I have certainly ruined any chance of buying back my horse, and much worse, put him in actual danger. Deering may very well take his vindictiveness out on Emperor.”

“I doubt he would seriously hurt so valuable an animal,” Ash said reassuringly, although he wasn’t wholly convinced himself. “But you have indeed complicated matters.”

Heaving a sigh, Maura lay back on the grass and covered her eyes with her arm. “I have no excuse for letting my temper get the best of me, especially not when it could result in harm to my horse. It’s just that my best intentions always go awry when it comes to dealing with that detestable man.”

“It’s understandable why you would hate him if you believe he murdered your father,” Ash offered.

“I suppose he isn’t solely to blame for my father’s death,” she said with great reluctance. “It was partly my fault also.”

Ash frowned as he glanced down at her. “Why would you say so?”

“If I hadn’t loved Emperor so much, Papa would not have been so adamant about refusing to sell him. And if he’d been willing to sell, Deering never would have accused him of cheating. That is my lifelong regret … that my father died with a cloud of dishonor hanging over him. The doctors said the distress and humiliation strained his already weak heart.…” She paused, as if struggling against tears, and beneath her concealing arm, he could see her lower lip trembling. “Papa’s heart broke from shame, and I might have prevented it.”

Anguish vibrated in her voice, making Ash’s heart twist in sympathy. The memory was obviously deeply emotional for her, not only because of grief, but because of the guilt she bore, however unjustified.