In the Veins of the Drowning(48)

Theodore’s jaw feathered. He put his foot in the stirrup and mounted in one graceful movement.

Agatha was at my side. “Be safe.”

I nodded. “See you in a week.”

My mare was pretty and shining black. I stood beside her and tried to mimic Theodore’s easy mount, but I got my boot into the stirrup and froze. “I… I’ve never ridden alone before.”

Lachlan let out a defeated breath. “Fucking Gods, you tell us now?” He strode toward me and stood close. As he tugged me around the front of my horse he spoke low, so only I could hear. “Be patient with Theo. He’s as scared as you are. Maybe more.”

“Over what? He’s not the one going through the severance.”

His gaze grew dark, sobering. “He’ll have to be the one to tell you. When he’s ready.” Then he stopped me beside Theodore’s horse.

I gave Lachlan a panicked glare. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Lachlan patted Theodore’s knee apologetically. “Theo will give you a lesson.”

“No. No, thank you—” But Lachlan was already forcing my foot into the stirrup, hefting me up into the saddle in front of Theodore. Clumsily, I threw my leg over the pommel and settled into his lap. Both of us went rigid.

Agatha put a hand to her temple and watched us with a grimace. An uncomfortable grin spread over Lachlan’s mouth. He patted the horse’s rump twice and said, “There’s extra wine in the saddlebags.”

With my mare’s reins in Theodore’s hand, he led us out of the stable yard and onto the road that carved through the outermost gardens. Sea mist swirled in over the palace grounds. I sat straight-backed, every muscle tight.

Theodore spoke over my shoulder. “You’re too tense.”

“Seeing as how you are doing your best to maintain some distance from me—” I noted the press of his body against mine. His chest and stomach were solid and hot. My backside filled his entire lap. “—it feels unwise to relax into this position.”

“Is it really that difficult for you to focus on our task rather than our bodies?”

“Excuse me?” I craned to scowl at him over my shoulder. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” he said, quickly. “Just focus on the damned horse.”

I faced forward again in a huff. “Asshole.”

He spoke near my ear in a low, rumbling voice. “Sit straight. Let your hips find neutral. You need to balance and feel the horse.”

I blew out an annoyed breath and tried. We jostled over the dirt-packed road that led from the palace grounds into the tree-spotted meadow just beyond it, and I slowly loosened my muscles.

He gave an approving grunt. “Better.” The encouragement was breathy and low, and an unbidden thrill fell through me. I slammed my eyes closed in annoyance.

The road grew uneven, and he tapped my hip twice, a reminder to feel the horse’s shifting. I obeyed with my tongue between my teeth. “That’s good.” When he picked up the horse’s pace and I began to lose my balance, he clamped an arm around my waist. “Got you.”

He kept us like that, bodies pressed tightly together in a bumping trot, with his strong arm around me. My heart hammered at our nearness, and I wondered after all the loathsome thoughts that must have been running through Theodore’s mind. In time, I eased into the faster pace, keeping my posture and balance.

“Take the reins.” Theodore pressed them into my hand, and I led us through a curving dirt road lined with small yellow flowers. They swayed and bounced in the wind, as if dancing to some gusting melody I could not hear. The corner of my mouth lifted as I watched them, entranced.

“They’re so pretty,” I said softly, letting the thought slip past my lips.

“They’re weeds.”

“Bloody Gods.” A shot of anger rang though me. “They’re still beautiful.”

He was silent as we wound away from the flowers into a green swaying field. I wished I’d held my temper, though it was not my fault that the man was a maddening, close-minded snob. Finally, and to my surprise, he leaned in close. His cheek pressed to my hair. “You’re right.” He sounded apologetic. “They are.”

I wanted to see his face, his eyes. I wanted to see how they changed when his voice sounded like that. I kept my gaze ahead, but that single moment drained all the remaining strain from my body. Despite myself, I rested against him fully, and we moved atop the horse as if we had fused.

Halfway through the field, Theodore pulled hard on the horse’s reins. We stopped and I sucked in a silent breath when I realized why. I could feel him, long and hard, straining against my backside.

Neither of us moved for a beat. My entire body rushed with fire, but I did my very best to douse it. Neither of us spoke as I ungracefully dismounted. When my feet were finally on the ground, I glanced up at him. His face was flushed, his lips pinched, and a part of me wanted to leave him alone with his mortification, but I shook my head in mock disappointment instead, and said, “You should have just focused on the horse.”

He dropped my horse’s reins and spurred his own down the road.

I couldn’t help but grin. “Aren’t you going to wait for me?” The bond was starting to stretch with nauseating discomfort. “It was a jest!” I clambered into my saddle and by some miracle got my horse to follow.