Royal's Bride. Kat Martin

my friend.”

      Royal downed the last of his drink. “That I should marry Jocelyn and rebuild the Bransford fortune was my father’s dying wish. I promised him I would see it done and there is nothing on this earth that could stop me from keeping my word.”

      Sherry rose from his chair. “Then I shall hold good thoughts for you this afternoon. May you find in your delectable companion whatever it is you seek in a suitable bride.”

      Royal gave a faint nod of thanks, knowing Sherry meant every word. He was a man whose friendship Royal valued greatly.

      “I suppose I had better go out to the stable and find the lady a suitable mount. Thank God my father didn’t sell all of his blooded horses.”

      “One last piece of advice?” Sherry offered, not really seeking his permission. “Kiss the lady. That ought to give you some idea of how the woman feels.”

      Royal smiled. It wasn’t a bad idea. As Sherry followed him out of the study, Royal thought that for once he might actually heed his friend’s advice.

      “Help me with the buttons, will you, Lily?” Jocelyn presented her back then stood impatiently as her cousin buttoned her sapphire velvet riding habit. It was cut in the military fashion, with rows of small brass buttons marching up the front. Jocelyn had only just received it, along with her latest order from the modiste. Lily had fashioned the matching miniature top hat, which Jocelyn thought complemented the outfit quite nicely.

      She settled it at a jaunty angle on top of her head, pinned it in place and pulled the tiny scrap of veil down just enough to cover her forehead.

      “How do I look?” She turned to give Lily a better view.

      “Hold still.” Lily walked over and shoved a pin into Jocelyn’s hair, fastening a stray curl in place, then stepped back to assess her. “You look perfect. The duke will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

      Jocelyn frowned. “Do you think he is truly pleased with me? It is difficult to tell how he feels.”

      “The man is a duke. He is trained not to show his emotions. I am sure that is all it is. This afternoon, he will have you mostly to himself. Perhaps he will let down his guard a bit.”

      Jocelyn certainly hoped so. She had been sure the duke would be far more impressed with her than he seemed to be. He hadn’t made one comment about her beauty, as most men did. In fact, he seemed to have only marginal interest in spending time with her.

      Perhaps he was simply busy with his affairs. His estate was vast. There was surely a good deal to do to keep it running smoothly. Today would be different, she told herself.

      “Have a nice time,” Lily said as Jocelyn made her way toward the door.

      “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

      “You know I don’t ride very well. Besides, this is your chance to get to know him.”

      Jocelyn nodded. She was looking forward to the afternoon, of course, but there was something about the duke that made her nervous. She flirted and teased as she usually did, but he seemed to pay little attention. At luncheon she had told a very funny story about a house party she had attended where one of the chambermaids took a tumble down an entire flight of stairs and landed in front of very proper Sir Edward Marley.

      Instead of appreciating her humorous tale, the duke had asked if the woman had been seriously injured.

      “I was trying so hard not to laugh I didn’t notice,” she had replied. The duke made no comment.

      He was waiting for her in the entry, she saw as she descended the stairs. He was certainly handsome enough, dark blond and fair and amazingly masculine, considering the beauty of his face.

      “The horses are waiting out front. I’ve chosen a gelding named Vesuvius I thought you might like. He is spirited, but not difficult to handle.”

      “I’m sure I shall enjoy the ride.”

      They descended the wide stone steps to where a groom waited with the horses, one a tall bay gelding with a white patch on his forehead, the other a magnificent gray stallion. Ignoring the bay, she walked straight to the stallion.

      “I think I would rather ride this one. What is his name?”

      The duke’s dark blond eyebrows drew together. “His name is Jupiter. The gelding is wearing the sidesaddle.”

      “Surely it would be easy enough to change.”

      He hesitated only a moment, then motioned to the groom, who rushed forward. In just a few minutes, the saddles were exchanged. The duke lifted her onto the gray, then went to the gelding and swung up on its back. A short while later, they were trotting along the drive, heading off toward the fields, the groom following along behind them.

      Jocelyn rode a little ahead, saw an open field and kicked the stallion into a gallop. Following, the duke urged his mount forward and caught up to her easily. Laughing, she urged the stallion faster. He was a magnificent beast, clearly capable of handling the terrain. She spotted a low stone hedge, and the stallion took it easily, landing neatly on the opposite side. She could hear the duke behind her.

      “Miss Caulfield, wait!”

      Jo nudged the stallion even faster, aiming at a hedge off to the right.

      “Miss Caulfield—Jocelyn, wait!”

      Jo laughed and neatly clipped the hedge, landing perfectly on the opposite side. Unfortunately, in a shady spot some of the snow had melted into a puddle she hadn’t seen. The horse hit the mud and nearly went down. Jocelyn kept her seat, but just barely, and she was furious that the animal had made her look bad in front of the duke.

      He caught up with her just as she raised the crop to slam it against the horse’s flanks, reached over and jerked it out of her hand.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked sharply.

      “The stupid horse missed my command. You saw him! He nearly unseated me.”

      “I tried to warn you. The fields are wet. You were riding too fast. It’s a wonder you both didn’t go down. It’s a miracle you weren’t injured.”

      “It was the horse, I tell you. If he had obeyed my command—”

      He seemed to be drawing on his self-control. His jaw looked hard, but his words came out softly. “Why don’t we ride south. You can see a bit of the forest. There’ll be snow left on the branches. It’s beautiful this time of year.”

      Jocelyn sniffed, placated but barely. She could have been injured. The duke should have taken her side, should have whipped the blasted horse for not obeying her command.

      She looked up at him, sitting on the bay, tall and broad-shouldered, unbelievably handsome. She supposed she could forgive him. He was going to be her husband, after all.

      “I believe we have lost our chaperone,” she said, glancing around, but seeing no sign of the groom.

      “He’ll find us. He knows where we’re going.”

      But Jocelyn was glad he was gone. She wanted a little time alone with the duke. When he reached the forest and suggested they walk for a bit, she readily agreed. The duke tied the horses, lifted her out of the saddle, then took her hand and led her down to a small, bubbling stream.

      He stopped at the edge of the water, looked out over the landscape, a very blue sky over rolling hills that held the last traces of snow.

      Jocelyn’s gaze followed his. “It’s lovely, Your Grace.”

      “I would like it if you called me Royal—at least when we are alone. May I call you Jocelyn?”

      She smiled. “I would like that very much.”

      His gaze roamed over the countryside. “This land means a great deal to me. Once the house is refurbished, do you think you could