On a Wild Night (Cynster 8)

"Slowly. I hadn't realized how many possible husbands exist in the ton once you disregard the matter of them actually wanting a wife."

"I thought you already had a gentleman in your sights." Amanda had a sus

picion she knew who it was.

Amelia blew out a breath. "I do, but it's not going to be easy."

Amanda said nothing; if it was who she suspected, that was an understatement.

"I've decided I have to be sure, beyond all doubt, that he's the one above all others I want, given snaring him is going to take so much effort." Amelia paused, then added, "And given I might not succeed."

Amanda glanced at her twin, but could think of nothing to suggest.

Minutes ticked by and they simply lay, content in each others' company, their minds flitting over their hopes, their plans-all the things they never spoke of except to each other. Amanda was deep in imagining what might come of her jaunt to Richmond when Amelia asked, "Are you really sure it's safe to encourage Dexter's protectiveness?" "Safe?" Amanda blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you remember all we've heard from Honoria and Patience and the others, then that protectiveness you're playing with goes hand in hand with possessiveness. And not just common or garden possessiveness, either. At least, not with our cousins."

Amanda considered. "But that's what I want, isn't it?" Amelia's voice reached her. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Chapter 4

Amanda slipped through the side gate of her parents' house into a narrow lane. Closing the gate, wrapping her cloak about her, she walked quickly to the end of the lane and peeped out.

A black carriage stood waiting at the corner of North Audley Street.

He was watching for her; the carriage door swung open as she neared.

"Come. Quickly."

His hand appeared; large, long-fingered, it beckoned imperiously. Hiding a smile, she placed her fingers in his and let him help her in. She sat and he leaned past her, closing the door, then he tapped on the carriage ceiling; the carriage lurched and rumbled off.

Only then did his fingers slide slowly from hers. In the light from a street flare, she saw him looking down at her. She smiled delightedly, then glanced at the passing streets.

Excitement skittered along her veins, flickered over her skin. The sensation owed more to his presence, his nearness in the dark, than to their intended destination. She felt his gaze leave her face, sweep down; she was acutely aware of him, of his heat, his sheer maleness, aware she was confined in the cocoon of the carriage with all that, and the consequent possibilities.

"At least you had the sense to wear a pelisse."

She glanced at him. "I doubt I would enjoy the drive while shivering with cold." She was prepared to shiver from another cause, but not cold.

The carriage slowed, then turned in through tall gateposts topped with… were they eagles? They'd driven around a large block and down Park Lane. A mansion appeared; the drive wended past it and on.

"My curricle's waiting."

The carriage rocked to a stop on the words. Dexter opened his door and alighted, then helped her down.

The yard was heavily shadowed. Dexter led her to a curricle and handed her up to the seat. Two grooms were leading the coach horses away; another held the prancing pair harnessed to the curricle. Taking the reins, Dexter sat beside her. He glanced at her, then reached around and rummaged. "Here." He dropped a thick, soft wrap on her lap. "It'll be colder driving." Looking forward, he nodded to the groom. "Let them go."

Releasing the horses, the boy dashed for the back of the curricle as Dexter flicked the reins. Amanda grabbed the rail as gravel crunched and the curricle rocketed forward. As they rounded the house, she scanned the massive edifice but it was shrouded in darkness and shadows. They swept on and the gates loomed ahead. Once Dexter took the turn and the wheels were rolling evenly, she released the rail and settled back.

Shaking out the wrap, she found it beyond luxurious-silk with a sumptuous weight. And the colors-deep, rich, even in the weak light. It had long fringes at both ends. She swung it over her shoulders, then tucked it about her. Dexter glanced at her, confirmed she was suitably swathed, then looked to his horses.

His house stood near the south end of Park Lane, the southeast corner of the fashionable area. Safe enough for her to ride openly beside him through the night as he steered the curricle further south and onto the Kings Road.

The horses were fresh, other carriages few and far between. Amanda sat back and enjoyed the cool air, the quiet of the night. They made good time, crossing the river at Putney, then rolling on through villages and hamlets. During the journey, the clouds dispersed, leaving the moon to shine freely. Eventually, they came to the village of Richmond, sleeping beneath a star-spangled, black-velvet sky. Beyond the last house, running from the village to the river, lay the dark expanse of the Deer Park.

She straightened as the first huge tree, bare branches spread wide, drew near. She'd been here often over the years, recognized the area, yet all seemed different in the dark. More evocative, the promise of excitement infinitely more acute. Cool tingles prickled over her skin and she shivered.

Instantly she felt Dexter's gaze, but made no move to meet it. He was forced to look to his horses as they rolled deeper into the shadowy park.