The Wild Child by Mary Jo Putney Page B

blurring and the wind blowing Dominic’s hair back.
    Behind him, Meriel laughed with sheer exhilaration, a sound like singing bells. He’d never even seen her smile. His heart leaped in response. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, share the exuberance of speed and joy.
    A good thing they were on horseback! She wasn’t his to hug. She wasn’t even Kyle’s, not yet. Perhaps she never would be. Yet her delight was perilously alluring.
    They were nearing the iron gates of the estate. He slowed Pegasus a little and said over his shoulder,
    “Since the day is so fine, I’ll take you into the village…”
    She gave a horrified cry, then released his waist and leaped from the moving horse. Appalled, he reined in Pegasus and whirled around. She’d hit the ground and was rolling across the grass in a flurry of skirts and bare legs. He jumped from the horse, fearing she might have broken bones or worse. Before he could reach her, she scrambled up and darted through the trees that lined the drive. Lashing his reins around a branch, he started after her. “Meriel, wait!”
    Suddenly Roxana was growling in front of him, teeth bared. He stopped dead. The dog liked him, but it was clear she’d rip his throat out if he threatened her mistress.
    He drew a deep breath, reminding himself that Meriel couldn’t move so fast if she were hurt. Already she’d vanished into the park, her grass-stained garments blending with the shrubs and trees. Was it mad for her to panic at the thought of leaving Warfield? Perhaps not, since the estate had been her haven since she was a small child.
    But he wished to hell that someone had warned him.
    Chapter 8
    Dominic woke at dawn the next morning, pulled from a dream of flying through the sky on a winged horse while clasped by a silver-haired maiden who laughed like singing bells. In real life, he’d had no such luck. After the unfortunate end to their ride, Meriel had vanished for the rest of the day. So much for his suggestion that he read Greek legends to her in the evening. The idea conjured up pleasant domestic images of sitting by a fire, Meriel listening dreamily while he shared some of his favorite stories with her. Maybe poetry, too.
    He’d be better off reading to her cat. At least Ginger enjoyed coming in from the rain and sleeping by a warm fire. Lord only knew where Meriel had spent the night. He hoped she hadn’t ended up in some damp, miserable hideaway.
    The thought of her shivering and alone wrecked any chance of returning to sleep. He rose and went to the washstand to splash cold water on his face. As he dried himself, he glanced out the window. A thick, pearly mist covered the landscape. Though the sun must be up, he could barely see the patterns of the parterre below his window.
    His eyes narrowed as he saw a human form moving through the parterre away from the house. Meriel. He was glad to see that she’d probably spent the night dry and warm inside. But where the devil was she going at this hour? He dragged on clothing with a carelessness that would have appalled Morrison, then raced downstairs and outside into the foggy dawn. She’d already vanished, so he continued in the direction he’d seen her going. Within a couple of minutes, he spotted her slim form. He slowed to match her pace, wondering what he hoped to achieve by this pursuit. Forgiveness for having frightened her into panicked flight the day before? She might have already forgotten the incident. Then again, she might have become so wary that she’d never come near him again, which would doom his arrangement with Kyle. He tried to visualize himself as master of Bradshaw Manor, but the image wouldn’t come. Maybe he’d botched this courtship beyond repair.
    He felt oddly ambivalent about the possibility. Much as he wanted Bradshaw Manor, he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with his role. Meriel deserved better than a shabby deception. She deserved a man who cared about her, not one with so little