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slippery.
     
    She found the riding to be treacherous even on the turnpike road. The mare, who had cooperated well enough on the ride there, disliked the pounding rain and now had to be coaxed every step of the way. Once they had turned off onto the dirt road to Hunsford, it became even worse as the mare struggled to keep her footing in the mud and shied from every low hanging branch. Elizabeth could barely keep her seat. Once she only managed to stay on by grabbing onto the edge of the heavy saddlebags, and her heart pounded with fear of falling. Beside her, Darcy seemed to be having no difficulty, which only made her feel worse.
     
    After half an hour, during which time they seemed to make little progress, Elizabeth began to wish they had stayed in town, even if it meant having to marry Mr. Darcy. Despite her best efforts, the cold rain had found its way inside the cloak and ran down her neck, and she felt thoroughly miserable. Even worse, the light was starting to fade. But there was nothing to do now but to go forward.
     
    She was conscious of Darcy casting concerned glances in her direction, and once or twice he asked her if all was well. Somehow she managed to answer in the affirmative. Then, as they crossed through a large patch of mud and puddles, the mare caught her foot in a hidden hole and lurched to a stop.
     
    Elizabeth could tolerate it no longer. She slid down the side of the horse, miraculously landing on her feet in mud that immediately covered her half-boots.
     
    Instantly, Darcy dismounted and was by her side, water pouring off the capes of his greatcoat. “Are you hurt?”
     
    She shook her head. “I cannot do this. I will walk the rest of the way.” She knew even as she said it that between the condition of the road and the late hour it was impossible.
     
    Darcy was silent for a moment, then he disentangled the mare’s reins and tied them in a knot. “My horse is more surefooted and can keep a better pace. You can ride before me.”
     
    “What about her?” Elizabeth gestured to the mare.
     
    “She will most likely follow us back to her stable, and if not, someone can be sent for her later. She is hardly likely to run off in these conditions.” He turned to his horse, easily two hands higher than anything Elizabeth had ever ridden, and made adjustments to the saddle. “Come.”
     
    He lifted her to the saddle as if she weighed nothing, despite the sodden cloak. She grabbed the slippery leather, but the horse stood perfectly still, even when Darcy mounted behind her, as gracefully as if he did the maneuver every day. She did not dare breathe as she felt Darcy’s hands on her waist, shifting her position slightly forward, then pressing her legs between his knee and the horse’s shoulders. She could feel the shape of his other thigh behind her.
     
    “There. Are you comfortable enough?” His voice sounded rougher than usual.
     
    “Are you certain this is safe?” She did not want him to know how much the closeness of his body to hers disturbed her.
     
    “I have done this often with my sister when she was younger. She used to love to ride with me, even after she learned to ride on her own.” His arm came around her from behind, circling her waist and holding her firmly against him. “I have you, and you cannot fall. Stormwind is the most sure-footed horse you will ever meet.”
     
    Without warning, he nudged the horse into a brisk walk. Elizabeth stifled a gasp, unable to keep herself from clutching his shoulder. He said nothing, but his face beneath his hat rim was stern, so she forced herself to release her hold on him.
     
    “Relax, Elizabeth. Sit back and let Stormwind do all the work.” His warm breath brushed her ear.
     
    How could she possibly relax? Not only was she atop a very tall horse, but Mr. Darcy was effectively embracing her. She tried closing her eyes so that she would not have to see the distance to the ground, but that only increased her awareness that the