Princess Charming by Nicole Jordan

to offer my unwanted advice. You are letting anger and grief cloud your judgment. You need someone with a cooler head to help you formulate a new plan.”
    He sounded eminently logical and rational, drat him.
    “If you have half the intelligence I credit you with,” he added for good measure, “you will allow me to help.”
    Maura fell silent, acknowledging the truth of his observation. She would be foolish not to at least consider his offer.
    “What did you have in mind?” she asked cautiously.
    “Your best course is to gain some leverage over Deering, something that will force him to sell.”
    She didn’t reply, and Beaufort said nothing more, doubtless deciding to let her think about his advice. They reached the entrance to Hyde Park a short while later. Maura kept her eyes peeled for Deering, but there was no sign of him.
    She and Beaufort cantered their horses along Rotten Row, the wide thoroughfare beside the Serpentine Lake, which was flanked by trees that had leafed the lovely green of spring. After a time, though, Maura began to fret with impatience and frustration. Wherewas Deering? Would he even come? And would he be riding Emperor?
    She had just dropped back into a walk when she drew a sudden breath, having spied her beloved horse in the distance.
    She would recognize that powerfully muscled form anywhere, but Emperor was unique in other ways: the elegant head, the kind eye, the sleek black coat that held no trace of white except for a small star on his forehead, and most of all the lively, mischievous temperament. Her horse had a vivid personality all his own.
    His rider was indeed Lord Deering, Maura saw as she moved closer. She quickened her pace, even though realizing the viscount had paused beside a landau to speak to the occupant. Her heart sank when she spied the long whip Deering carried and the sharp spurs he wore.
    The stallion obviously recognized Maura in return, for he abruptly lifted his head and let out a piercing whinny before breaking into a trot and heading in her direction. In response, Deering hauled on the reins, sawing the bit against Emperor’s tender mouth and digging those wicked spurs into his flanks. Not surprisingly, the horse laid back his ears, resenting the savage treatment.
    Then the nobleman raised the whip. Maura went cold, watching helplessly as the leather weapon came down hard on the stallion’s rump again and again. Giving a small cry, she spurred her own mount forward, but after two more blows, Emperor began combating the beating, rounding his back and giving a violent buck that sent the viscount flying.
    Free of his tormentor, the stallion raced toward Maura, seeking her protection. When she pulled up, breathing erratically, he came to a skidding halt before her and stood trembling.
    Clamping down on her fury in order to croon soft words to him, she reached down and caught the reins, then stroked the stallion’s sleek neck, trying to calm him with her touch and her voice.
    By now Deering had picked himself up off the ground and was stalking toward them. His hat was missing, but he still held the whip and his face was livid. He was clearly enraged that the stallion had made him look foolish and inept in front of his riding colleagues and the Marquis of Beaufort, who had ridden up beside Maura.
    When Deering reached them, he raised the whip again, brandishing it at the stallion, who shied in fear.
    Appalled, Maura sputtered a fierce command to stop. “Don’t you dare hit him again!”
    Deering turned his rage on her. “I have every right to punish my own horse!”
    Holding the whip high, he moved in for another assault, but Maura intervened, desperately stretching down and snatching the whip from his gloved hands.
    Deering was not deterred, however, but drew back his fist, aiming for the stallion’s defenseless face.
    With another cry, Maura brought the whip down across the nobleman’s shoulders, making him flinch in startled pain.
    She might have continued, but