He sat atop his horse as if born to the saddle, his size suited to the massiveness of the dark gold gelding. While Ravenswood and Bentley were large men, Gabriel surpassed them. Taller and heavier, he possessed a brawny elegance, comfortable in his skin and unashamed of the muscles bunching beneath the dark brown breeches he wore.

Yes, Celia grudgingly admitted, a strange twinge of desire rattling her composure. He is certainly handsome.

Sebastian Cain, the Earl of Ravenswood, reached the group first, swinging off his black stud horse with a flourish. Ivy barely had time to slide her arm from Celia’s waist before the earl was sweeping his wife up against him. He planted a quick, open-mouth kiss on Ivy’s lips while the other women twittered behind gloved hands.

All three men were dressed for a casual ride across the estate’s rough terrain, not a single one wearing a coat or hat. In fact, crisp white shirts were open at the throat, the material revealing far more than was proper.

Several of the women appeared fascinated by the blatant display of such masculine virility. Celia heard their excited whispering as she attempted blending into their midst.

“My lord, behave yourself,” Ivy gasped in mock outrage while attempting to conceal her grin.

“But why?” Sebastian countered, his brow raising in amused puzzlement. “I am merely greeting my beautiful wife after a lengthy absence.”

“It’s been but a few hours, Ravenswood. Surely, you could not have missed me that much,” Ivy laughed.

“Of course, he has! Nearly as much as I’ve missed my own wife,” the Earl of Bentley declared as he too dismounted and wrapped Sara in an enthusiastic embrace. Alan swung her around in a complete circle as she squealed with delight in the most unladylike manner.

Yearning twisted Celia’s heart as watched her friends’ interactions with their husbands. The two women enjoyed something very rare in English society—genuine love matches with their soulmates. It was the type of relationship she could never hope for.

With a sigh, she averted her gaze and found herself caught by Gabriel’s dark eyes. He watched her with a mysterious intensity from atop his horse. For a long moment, they simply stared at one other until Sebastian’s attention turned to his friend.

“Mister Rose, have you ever seen a lovelier sight than this group of ladies on the road to Beaumont?”

“I have not, Lord Ravenswood,” Gabriel drawled with a slight smile. “An enchanting collection of beauty rivaling that of any garden. And likely as sweet as any confection ever created.” His tone was dulcet smoothness, its melodic nature sending a blush creeping up many of the ladies’ cheeks.

Including Celia’s. For she’d heard that voice in the dark stillness of a locked room. It was the same voice he’d used while calling her a sugarplum and demanding she find satisfaction in the use of his body.

Like an inferno, the unwelcome memory flashed through Celia. Flustered and suddenly desperate to escape Gabriel’s mocking gaze, she twisted away. But instead of a hasty exit toward Beaumont, she abruptly landed on her bottom in the road. A moan of pain rose from her throat when she grabbed her ankle in reflex.