Conor. Ruth Langan

emotion for this man.

      In order to cover her rush of feelings she said, “You’re no better than Dunstan. Like him, you think all women will fall at your feet. Well, I’m not the queen, blushing and giggling at your every word, Conor O’Neil. I intend to save myself for a real man, not some pompous peacock.”

      She turned and caught at her skirts, racing as fast as she could toward the palace. Leaving him standing alone in the sun-drenched garden. With the taste of her still on his lips. And the scent of her filling his lungs.

      Chapter Five

      “Good morrow, sir.” The stable lad had seen Conor coming and was already leading his mount from the stall.

      “Good morrow, Meade. I hope you haven’t forgotten that the queen will be joining me.”

      “Nay, sir. I’ve forgotten nothing.” The boy’s smile was dazzling. It was a rare opportunity to serve his monarch. “I have Her Majesty’s mount saddled and ready. And a third horse suitable for the young lady you mentioned.” He looked beyond Conor. “I believe this must be your young lady now.”

      Conor turned. Emma was striding toward him, looking slightly uncomfortable in a heavy riding gown the color of green leaves. As with all her clothing, it was obviously borrowed from one of the other ladies-in-waiting, since it was as ill-fitting as the others. Her long hair was tied back with matching ribbons. Perched on her head was a most fetching bonnet, adorned with feathers and lace.

      When she drew close he called, “Good morrow, Emma.”

      “Good morrow, Conor.” She avoided his eyes, feeling the old shyness take hold. She had managed to avoid him since that scene in the garden yesterday. But this morning she had awakened with a sense of excitement. It wasn’t the knowledge that she would be spending time in this man’s company that had her pulse racing. After all, she could hardly tolerate Conor O’Neil. She was convinced that her eagerness was really caused by the opportunity to ride in the open air.

      The stable boy led a spirited mare from its stall, and Conor studied the horse with suspicion. “Are you certain you want such a headstrong animal, Emma?”

      “I’ve told you I’m an accomplished rider.”

      “Very well.” He offered his hands, and she placed one dainty foot in them. She was boosted into the sidesaddle, where she quickly arranged her skirts. The heat she’d felt at his touch was merely generated by the excitement of the ride, she assured herself.

      As for Conor, he took a moment to enjoy the sight of shapely ankles and legs, before her skirts tumbled down to hide the view. When he heard the sounds signalling the arrival of the queen, he turned.

      Elizabeth bustled along the walkway, accompanied by a maid, a footman, a butler and several ladies-in-waiting, who were all talking at once.

      “Good morrow, Majesty.” Conor bowed. “Will we saddle more horses for the others?”

      “Conor. Emma.” Elizabeth, in high spirits, lifted a hand in greeting. “Nay, these others have merely come to see me off on my little adventure.” She studied Conor and added, “How is it that you manage to look so handsome this early in the morning?”

      “The same way you manage to look so regal, Majesty.” Conor cast an admiring glance at her scarlet riding gown with matching jacket and hat.

      “Ah. I see.” Elizabeth gave him a knowing smile. “You were born to it?”

      From her position in the saddle, Emma gritted her teeth. The queen and her Irishman were equally adept at flattery.

      Conor merely laughed and turned to the stable lad. “Fetch the queen’s mount, Meade.”

      When the horse was led from its stall Conor said, “I hope the chestnut mare meets with your approval.”

      “Aye. And well she should. She was a gift from Philip of Spain. He was hoping to win favor so that he might press for a betrothal.” She gave Conor a sideways glance as he helped her into the saddle. “Does that bother you, my Irish rogue?”

      “That the King of Spain desired you? Nay, madam. All the world desires Elizabeth of England.”

      She laughed as he stepped back and her maid arranged her skirts and petticoats. “As always, you know just the right thing to say. Come. Let us be on our way. I wish to ride.” She waved to the others, then wheeled her mount and led the way toward a distant meadow.

      Conor pulled himself into the saddle and followed.

      The horses moved in single file, following a welltraveled path, with Elizabeth in the lead, Emma in the middle, and Conor trailing behind.

      It was a perfect summer morning, with the grass damp with dew, and a misty haze hanging over the edges of the forest that ringed the meadow.

      As the path gradually widened, Elizabeth slowed her mount until the other two drew abreast. They rode up a steep incline, then came to an abrupt halt. Ahead of them was a small herd of deer grazing. For the space of a heartbeat the entire herd seemed to freeze. Then, as several does and their young took off at a run toward the shelter of the forest, the buck stood his ground. Only when his herd was safe did the buck follow.

      “Magnificent.” Elizabeth watched as they disappeared into the underbrush. “How I long for my bow and arrows. But I have ordered no hunting in this forest today.”

      “A wise move. You shall hunt another time, Majesty. For today, it is enough that we are free to ride.” Conor pointed to a falcon riding the breeze high above them. “As free as the birds.”

      “Aye.” Elizabeth gave a little laugh. “I’ve always wished I could fly. Come then, my friends. Let us fly across the meadow to the far side where the forest begins.” Without waiting for their agreement, she urged her mount into a gallop.

      Emma’s mare, eager to run, took off at a thunderous pace. For a moment Conor held his mount steady, enjoying the sight of her astride her horse. The fact that she was a skilled rider made the sight all the more pleasurable. Her hair streamed out from beneath her hat as she bent low over her steed’s head. Her laughter filled the morning air.

      At last, feeling the tug on the reins, he gave his horse its head. Halfway across the meadow he caught up with her. As he rode alongside, he felt a jolt of pleasure at the sight that greeted him. Emma’s cheeks were a becoming shade of pink; her eyes were warm with excitement.

      A peal of delighted laughter rose up from her throat. “Oh, how I’ve missed this. I hadn’t realized just how much until now. I do thank you, Conor.”

      “You’re welcome, my lady. It pleases me to see you so happy.”

      Gone was the awkwardness that always seemed to set her apart from the others at court. Here, astride a sleek animal, she was definitely in her element. There was such grace and poise in this young woman who turned to him with a smile of pure pleasure before she spurred her mare into a gallop.

      Seeing her, the queen followed suit.

      Conor watched, then urged his horse to follow. Just ahead of him the two horses remained neck and neck.

      Emma called over her shoulder, “Look at me, Conor. I’m flying.”

      Emma’s horse began to inch ahead. Conor urged his steed into a last burst of speed. But even that effort couldn’t overtake the lively mare. She fairly flew across the meadow, slowing only when Emma reined her in. As soon as Conor and Elizabeth joined her, they began congratulating one another on an excellent ride.

      “Oh, Conor.” Emma’s eyes were shining. “It was as you said. I felt as though I were flying.”

      “I do believe that was as close to it as you’ll ever be.” He turned to include the queen. “Both of you looked as though your steeds had sprouted wings.”

      Emma leaned down to run a hand affectionately over her mare’s neck. “It has been too