Gabriel gave a low, nearly imperceptible growl that had Celia and Ivy’s eyes widening. With graceful quickness, he scooped Celia up into his arms and rose to his feet. “No need. See to your guests, my lady. It will be quicker if I return Lady Celia to Beaumont myself.”

CHAPTER 8

Although the threat of a rain storm loomed overhead, Celia thought Gabriel moved with a suspicious lack of speed. And the way he held her could only be considered indecent. Positioned sidesaddle, she sat wedged between the man’s legs. Her hip dug into his groin, and every time she wiggled in an attempt to create some distance between their bodies, Gabriel merely tightened his grip, which made her slide even closer due to the slick surface of the saddle.

He wouldn’t even allow her to don her bonnet, saying the wide brim impeded his line of sight. She held it by the ribbons with one knee jammed into the crown. Her boots were tied together by their strings and now lay draped over the horse’s neck. Cushioned by the fullness of her skirts, they did not needlessly bounce about.

“What is your horse’s name?” Celia asked, hoping conversation would dispel the uncomfortable silence. Perhaps it would make their time together pass more quickly.

Gabriel did not respond for a long moment, then with an exasperated sigh, he said, “Arion.”

The buckskin’s ears flicked backward at the sound of his name and his master’s voice.

Celia twisted to look at Gabriel. “But Arion was the swiftest of mythological horses. Yours, I’m afraid, moves incredibly slow. Were he responsible for carrying you away from battle and certain death, you would not survive as King Adrastus did.”

“I would not discount his abilities, my lady. Arion is very sensitive to insults.”

The horse tossed his head as if he understood everything being said, his silky black mane ruffled by the breeze.

Craning her neck to look past his body, Celia noted the distance between them and the other ladies increasing by the minute. Up ahead, Bentley and Ravenswood, with Sara and Ivy clinging to their backs, were already making the next bend in the road and would soon disappear from sight. She and Gabriel were essentially alone now. The realization was deeply concerting.

“I fear going any faster as it may increase your injury,” Gabriel explained dryly. “Besides, I doubt it will actually rain on us.” He adjusted Celia into a more favorable position, one which pressed her even tighter in the space between his legs.

“If you intend on manhandling me all the way back to Beaumont, I’d rather hobble the remaining distance on one foot,” Celia bit out through clenched teeth. Why did he have to be so muscular? And why must he smell so divine? The heady scent of spicy cloves and leather was most annoying. “I’d probably make it there long before you.”

“Oh, I couldn’t allow that.” Gabriel transferred the reins to one hand while steadying Celia with the other. “And why do you think I am manhandling you? I thought my actions to be most helpful.”