The farther they got away from London, the more George’s mood lifted. The traffic thinned; the noise and dirt and chaos of the city fell behind them. Browns and grays gave way to a thousand shades of green, and the air felt cleaner and fresher. She took great deep breaths of it and felt lighter and more energized.

Sultan too felt the difference and started to dance a little with anticipation. She felt the leashed power rippling through him and gathered her reins.

“Careful now, Lady George,” Kirk murmured. “He’s verra fresh still.” Lady George, not Lady Georgiana—she was forgiven her breeches, then.

Kirk, the silly old dear, was certain Sultan was too strong, too spirited, too male for a lady, and had said so repeatedly. She’d lost count of other men who’d told her the same thing, in various ways.

But she’d bred Sultan, had been there when he was born, had raised him from a colt and trained him. They understood each other.

Besides, George, titled or not, was barely a lady.

An ill-trained, boyish, impertinent hoyden . . . She pushed the thought aside. She didn’t care what the duke said about her.

The heath stretched before them. There was not a soul in sight. She tugged down her cap. “Come on, Kirk, race you to that big old oak on the edge of the forest.” And without waiting, she took off. Her dog, Finn, streaked after her.

*   *   *

“Now, isn’t this better than spending the afternoon at Jackson’s?” Hart gestured to the scene in front of them, an endless sward of green, fringed by a tangled, shadowy forest.

“I thought you meant Hyde Park, not out in the dashed wilderness.”

Hart snorted. “Hyde Park? At the fashionable hour?” He couldn’t imagine anything worse.

“I don’t mind doing the pretty, catching up on gossip with all the lovely ladies.” Sinc pulled his collar up. “Better than being in the middle of nowhere getting blown to bits in a freezing gale.”

Hart laughed. “Stop complaining. It’s a brisk breeze, nothing more. Besides, it’ll blow the cobwebs away.”

“Cobwebs? On me? Don’t be ridiculous. My valet would have a fit. What am I saying? I would have a fit!”

“Come on, let’s ride to the top of the hill. You’ll feel better when you can see for miles.” He headed off at a leisurely canter.