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this way.”
    Never had he expected to find anything innocent about her—not a woman of her sordid past—but there she stood, wisps of golden hair escaping her bonnet, framing her delicate features. Her big blue eyes were entreating him to do the gentlemanly thing and turn her loose.
    And then there had been the moment of pure joy in her eyes when he’d offered to take her riding last night. Its appearance made him wonder how mournful the rest of her life was, if such a simple offer could bring such delight.
    Elisa, he realized, was a complicated woman. The assumptions he’d made about her were not an exact fit. It intrigued him.
    He let go of her waist and stepped back a little. “If I can’t have what I want, then I would accept friendship, instead,” he said and was mildly astonished to realize he was sincere.
    “Friendship?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.
    “Yes, friendship. Or is that too much to ask?”
    She watched him for a few moments, as though she expected him to say he wasn’t serious. Then a slight smile came to her lips. “Of course it is not too much to ask. I would like your friendship very much. Yes, very much indeed.”
    The way she said the words made him think that perhaps she was trying to convince herself.
    “Then let’s not waste this beautiful day.”
    She nodded and walked beside him toward the stables, her shoulders erect, her chin high, her cheeks flushed a flattering shade of pink.
    As the stable master readied their mounts, Vaughn watched her fidget with her gloves. She was going out of her way to look at anything but him. He took a step closer and she glanced up, her breath leaving her in a rush.
    “I make you uneasy,” he said, not bothering to state it as a question.
    “No,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t.”
    “Then why are you so on edge?”
    Her gaze shifted to something beyond his shoulder. Then relief flooded her face. “Look, our horses are ready.”
    She brushed past him and hurried over to the gray the stable master was holding for her. It had been readied with a sidesaddle. As she settled herself into the saddle and arranged her skirts properly, he smiled a little, forming an image of what she must have looked like in those years when she rode astride like a man, defying society, convention and death all at once. This properly stiff-backed lady who controlled her horse with a gentle, deft touch was nothing like that image.
    Impressed with her skill already, he mounted his horse and with a challenging smile, he was off like a shot, sending up grass and dirt in his wake.
    He heard the thunder of pursuit. His blood raced, excitement flaring through him, pushing him to go faster. He told himself he should be careful for she might be hurt, but he knew she needed to feel the wind whipping her hair and feel the excitement race along her spine—just as he did.
    They were far from the hall already, racing across ripe fields and fallow green meadows, through copses of trees and fens.
    Her laughter rang out behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to find her leaning over the horse’s neck, pushing it harder and faster. She had removed the cumbersome bonnet and her golden hair gleamed. She laughed. Her smile was devastating—all white teeth and dimples.
    Such a strong response to such a simple stimulation as a horse ride was a measure of Elisa’s potential sensuality. What would she be like in a man’s arms? In his bed? The possibilities made his gut clench with a raw excitement completely unrelated to the swift clean joy of riding a galloping horse.
    Then he heard her laugh again and the pretty, silvery sound was much closer.
    She was gaining on him!
    He spurred the horse onwards, entirely caught up in the spirit of the chase.   What a delight it was competing against such a carefree and challenging rider. And his mind was busy with an illicit dilemma: Should he let her win and claim compensation, or should he win and claim the victor’s