A Secret Passion Read Free Page A

dearest aunt, an uninvited houseguest, sitting in your kitchen.” Jane grasped her aunt’s hand in her own. “But for you, I will try to be obedient.”
    Clarissa laughed and shook her head.

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
    THE bright morning sunlight hurt Jane’s sleepless eyes as it filtered through the budding trees of Littlefield’s landscape three mornings later. She descended a steep bank, slippery with dew, then guided her horse through a muddy stream. Salty breezes wafted through fields of verdant young grasses and wildflowers in the semidarkness before the rays of the sun penetrated the early morning sky and stilled the air.
    She had known she would not sleep again when the bedcovers had twisted into an uncomfortable mass. Torturous thoughts had swirled through her brain all night. Only the wind rushing by her face during a good gallop could promise to banish her worries, at least for a little while.
    Pax stumbled while scrambling up the steep bank of the stream. Jane leaned her weight forward and gave the animal more freedom with the reins. At the top of the bank, her horse stopped and snorted. Jane wondered what Pax saw, and squinted over her mare’s alert ears.
    A streak of black was in the distance. It was a horse and rider. Going far, far too fast. At breakneck speed, in fact. In an instant she urged her mount into a gallop. She thought that if she could not stop the runaway, at least she could be there to pick up the pieces when the rider fell off.
    Her horse could not overtake the other. Jane changed tactics and circled around the opposite direction of the field to try to cut off the pair. As they drew closer, she could hear the man curse.
    “Get the… devil out of here… private property,” was all she could make out.
    Then the horse, despite its lathered sides, lowered its head and ran faster than before. Jane stopped and watched the pair gallop out of control around the perimeter of the field. Finally, the huge horse headed toward her in full gallop and reared within a few feet of her horse. Jane’s mount crow-hopped and whinnied as the man half slid, half fell off the tail end of the stallion. It took all of Jane’s resources to stay in her sidesaddle. The man’s brutally strong back was turned to her as he dusted himself off and watched the black horse jump the high fence that enclosed the field and take off.
    “Are you hurt?” asked Jane.
    Breathing hard, he turned to face her. The man’s overly long black hair was touched with a few brushstrokes of gray on the sides. He was dressed almost indecently, a plain white shirt with buttons undone halfway and sleeves rolled up, no neckcloth, not even a coat. She tried not to notice the torn green-stained breeches that left nothing to the imagination. If she was not mistaken, she could even discern the edges of a pair of men’s smalls under a tear near the thigh. She felt a blush suffuse her face as she finalized her perusal by noting that his scratched boots were caked in mud and had probably never seen a boot brush. As her gaze moved back up to his face, his cold expression hardened even further. His angular face promised to brook little argument. She backed her horse up a few paces.
    He looked furious as he wiped the grime from his brow. “This is private property, Madam. Were you unable to read the notices posted?” he asked, his gray eyes turbulent with anger.
    She was not sure why she should be defensive for trying to help. “Pray forgive me,” she said. “I thought you might have been in need of help.”
    “I see.” He looked at her for an uncomfortably long moment. She resisted the urge to squirm as he stepped forward the paces she had given up. “And you thought you could stop that two-ton miserable sack of horseflesh?” he asked.
    “I am most sorry to have invaded your master’s property. Do be so kind as to overlook it. It shall not happen again,” she replied, lifting her chin.
    An uncomfortable silence ensued as the tall,