Emma rolled her eyes. “Goodness, you cannot call that riding. One can barely trot in that congested park, much less gallop. Besides, even if I could gallop, people would be talking about my scandalous behavior for weeks.” Emma made a face. “One would think people would have something more interesting to talk about, wouldn’t one?”

Alex narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. “Why do I get the feeling we’re no longer talking about a hypothetical situation?”

“It’s possible that I might have ridden my mare through the park at something that could have been described as ‘breakneck’ speed,” Emma conceded, her face a picture of innocence.

He chuckled. “And people talked about it for weeks?” At her nod, he mused, “I wonder why I didn’t hear about it.”

This time it was Emma’s turn to laugh. “I am afraid no one is brave enough to mention my name in your presence, much less malign me in any way.” She broke free of his grasp and skipped toward the stables, lifting her dark skirts up so that she could move quickly. Turning around to face him, she called out, “It’s marvelous, really. You’ll never find out about all the shocking things I do, and so I can enjoy a positively angelic reputation in your eyes!”

Alex increased his stride. “‘Angelic’ is not quite the word that comes to mind.”

“Oh?” She continued walking backwards, glancing behind her every few moments to make sure she didn’t trip over a tree root.

“‘Hellion’ is considerably more appropriate.”

“Ah, but ‘angelic’ is an adjective and ‘hellion’ is a noun, so you cannot use one in the place of the other.”

“God save me from educated females,” Alex muttered.

Emma paused for a second, wagging her finger at him. “I heard that, you louse.”

“I cannot believe you just called me a louse.”

“I’m the only one brave enough to do it.”

“I’ll say,” Alex replied, his expression petulant.

“Besides,” Emma said, continuing her backwards move toward the stables, “educated women are far more interesting than uneducated ones.”

“So the educated women keep telling me.”

Emma stuck out her tongue.

“I’d stop now,” Alex advised.

She smiled archly. “Do you think I’m not a worthy adversary?”

“Not at all,” he said with utmost composure. “I meant you should stop walking. You’re about to fall into a trough.”

Emma yelped and jumped forward. Turning quickly around, she saw that Alex had not been joking with her and, indeed, she’d just been saved from a soaking. “That water doesn’t look terribly clean,” she commented, scrunching up her nose.

“Its odor also appears to be considerably less than pleasant.”

“Well,” she declared, “I suppose I ought to thank you.”

“That would be a delightful change,” he said, smiling.

She ignored him. “I imagine I’ll have to watch where I’m going from now on.”

“Perhaps you’ll accept my escort?”

She smiled sunnily. “But of course.”

Emma took Alex’s arm as they walked the rest of the short distance to the stables. When they arrived they were immediately met by a groom, who led out two horses.

“Mrs. Goode sent over a picnic lunch, yer grace. It’s waiting for you over there on the bench.” The groom handed the reins to Alex.

“Excellent,” Alex replied. “And thank you for getting the horses ready for me on such short notice.”

The groom beamed. “It were no trouble at all, yer grace, no trouble at all,” he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Alex led the horses out into the open. “Here you are, love,” he said, handing Emma the reins to a spirited chestnut mare.

“Oh, she’s gorgeous,” Emma sighed, stroking the mare’s shiny coat. “What do you call her?”

“Delilah.”

“That’s encouraging,” she muttered. “I suppose yours is called Samson.”

“Good God, no,” Alex responded. “That could prove to be far too dangerous.”

Emma looked at him suspiciously, wondered if he were talking about something other than horses, and then decided against saying anything.

Alex quickly grabbed the picnic lunch that his housekeeper had put into a sack for them, and they mounted their horses and were off.

They started out at a trot, moving fairly slowly since Emma was avidly interested in the scenery. Westonbirt was a fertile land of rolling green hills, liberally dotted with pale pink and white wildflowers. Although a great deal of the estate had been used for agriculture for several centuries, the wide fields that immediately bordered the house had been left unfarmed so that the family could enjoy all of the benefits of the countryside in relative privacy. The section through which they were riding was not heavily wooded, although it did possess several large, sturdy oaks that Emma was convinced would make excellent climbing trees. Smiling contentedly, she took a deep breath of the fresh, country air.

Alex smiled at her audible sigh. “It’s different out here, isn’t it?” he commented.

“Hmmm?” Emma was too content to formulate a complete sentence.

“The air. It’s cleaner. It almost tastes good to breathe.”

She nodded. “I feel as if I’m purifying myself with each breath, washing away the London grime from the inside out. I don’t think I had realized how much I’d missed the country until I got here.”