The Liberation Of Miss Finch

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His arms encircled her again, and her body rubbed against his with each step the horse took. His senses had matured as well as his body, and his body craved her as a man only craves a woman.

They rode to Rappard Hall. It meant backtracking for Claude, but he did not mind spending more time with his arms around her.

They reached the top of the hill and looked down on the red sandstone mansion below. Its tower once looked to Claude as if stacked there like a child’s set of blocks. He’d once searched the windows to find which room was occupied by Edwin Tranville.

Louisa said, “I had better part with you here, Claude. Before we are seen together.”

For all the money in his pocket, she was still taboo. No matter how many stables he managed, in English society—nay, wherever he traveled—Claude would be considered little more than a stable worker. She would always be a lady.

Still, he did not wish to free her from his arms. She felt too good. Releasing her would be like waking from a beautiful dream.

The dream could not end here. He must see her again, learn about her life since they’d parted. Why had she remained at Rappard Hall? Why had she not married?

He slid off the horse and helped her down, holding her firmly by the waist. When her feet touched the ground, he did not release her.

“Meet me here tomorrow,” he implored, his hands glorying in the intimate contact. “I will bring the horses. Dress for riding and we can gallop over the hills again.”

She returned his gaze, intense with emotion. “I will come,” she breathed. “At noon?”

“At noon.” He was already aroused at the prospect.

Her gaze softened, and she reached up to touch his cheek, a touch so gentle he was surprised it radiated throughout his body.

Before he could wish her farewell, she turned and hurried down the hill.

Claude watched her until she was a small speck rushing towards the country house that had been the scene of their last moments together.

The violence and drama of that night rushed back, shaming him all over again. How much did she know of the darkness that had consumed him at that time? Of what sort of person he’d been? She’d shown no hint.

Louisa was all that was good, the ideal he despaired of striving for in himself. Before he deserved her companionship again, he must tell her the truth about himself.

About how he’d used her to plan a murder.

Chapter Two

The next day Louisa fairly flew up the hill from Rappard Hall. She swore her feet had not touched the ground at all since parting with Claude the day before.

She was like a giddy girl, thrilling at the sight of him and the chance to be in his company again. When they’d galloped side by side all those years ago, it had been the most exciting time of her life. When he’d held her in his arms, she’d suddenly awakened as a woman. She’d suddenly understood yearning for a man’s touch, for a man’s kiss. And more. For years after he’d left, she’d dreamt of him holding her, riding with her, romancing her.

She gripped the skirt of her riding habit so she would not trip over it on her way to this secret meeting. To the curious servants at the Hall she’d said she was going riding; to Mr. Sellars, the stable manager, she’d claimed to have changed her mind. No one would miss her. No one would think it odd that she spent the afternoon out of doors.

She finally reached the crest of the hill, breathing hard, more from excitement than from the climb. Shading her eyes with her hand, she gazed into the valley.

And saw him.

Claude was riding the chestnut horse and leading the dun. Her heart swelled into her throat. Even at this distance his form on horseback stirred her. Claude rode a horse with grace and strength, as if he and the animal were one.

He looked her way and increased his pace. Louisa waved. Gathering her skirt in her hands again, she ran down the hill, eager to be with him.

He dismounted as she came near, removing his hat and showing thick dark hair that she longed to comb with her fingers. His startlingly blue eyes were shuttered and, unlike the previous day, he held back from her.

His unexpected reserve halted her as effectively as if it had been a stone barrier.

“You are prompt,” she said, but her tone was clipped.

His smile appeared to come with effort. “Are you ready to ride?”

Why this change in him? She vowed to find out.

But this was not the time. Instead she glanced towards the beautiful horse. “I am ready to ride.”

He extended his hand and helped her mount, sending sparks of pleasure through her and making her crave a more intimate touch. When he adjusted the side-saddle to her comfort, it was all she could do to keep her hands from touching him.

She scanned the blue sky with its puffs of white clouds like sheep dotting a field. Suddenly happiness blossomed inside her. It was a beautiful day. Claude was by her side. Once more they would gallop over the fields together. If that was all she would be given, it was so much more than she’d possessed two days before.