A surge of lust careened through him at the salacious idea. And Gabriel fought that, too. What occurred in the library was bad, but this, this was insanity. It would mean certain ruination if they were caught like this, and he was in enough trouble as it was with this girl. He could not continue inventing reasons and excuses to touch her. It was utter madness.

Because she was not meant for someone like him. That fact would never change.

No matter the circumstances. Or who his father was.

Once more supporting Celia’s weight, Gabriel practically dragged her back to where Arion nibbled on the few blades of grass sprouting up amongst the carpet of leaves.

“We must return before they come looking for us.” His gruff explanation came while tossing Celia onto the horse’s back.

She instinctively grabbed the reins and a handful of Arion’s jet-black mane. Her features tight, she stared down into his face. “I’ve said the same thing, but you ignored me.” She sounded sullen, frustration leaching into every word.

“Well, we shouldn’t dawdle any further.” Gabriel turned, looking for her hat. The breeze had caught it up and carried it a few feet away.

“Is that what men call this? Dawdling?” Celia said peevishly to his back as he strode toward the bonnet with the intention of retrieving it.

The moment he bent over to pick up the pretty hat, Gabriel knew his mistake. He’d vastly underestimated the girl.

Celia twisted in the saddle, maneuvering so that one leg awkwardly swung over Arion’s neck. Now, she sat astride, full skirts hiked up past her knees and an expanse of white silk stockings readily visible. While Gabriel stood awestruck at the magnificent sight she presented, Celia clucked her tongue to the horse. Setting her heels to his flanks, she held on tight as Arion, the traitor, obliged her command by bolting forward.

Celia’s little yelp of surprised alarm almost made Gabriel smile. But then, concern for her safety erased any sense of amusement. There were many trees along the pathway leading out of the forest. She might fall off and seriously injure herself. And if he let out the whistle sure to stop Arion in mid-stride, she could still end up taking a tumble.

Best that he allowed the stallion his head and trust in his sure-footedness. No doubt, the horse would quickly find his way back to the stables where a bucket of oats awaited him.

Raking a hand through his hair, Gabriel sighed.

It was a long walk back to the manor.

Gabriel was met by Alan when he entered Beaumont’s foyer.

“Ah, there you are. We were preparing to send out a search party.”

Gabriel scowled at his friend. “Is Lady Celia well?”

Alan grinned. “As well as can be expected. Her injury seems to be a minor one. Ivy insists she remains abed at least until tomorrow. I suppose I should inquire as to your own health?”