having the temerity to offer a comment in an area that was strictly a gentleman's preserve. Her palm was resting gently on the neck of the animal and he detected her unease. Immediately his ears flattened. Before she could warn him, the aforementioned teeth buried themselves in Westcott's arm. The resulting pandemonium allowed her to escape. Her ears were burning from his immoderate language. No doubt the gelding would be returned as unsound, but that would be unfair. The bay was a little past his prime but was obviously an intelligent animal and ideal for a soldier. Without stopping to consider the possible consequences she spun, her blue-velvet riding habit swirling around her booted feet. He needed to be persuaded to keep the bay. Fortunately the swearing had ceased and the gentleman in question had hold of his horse. To her astonishment, he was rubbing the animal's nose with affection. Her lips curved; there was no need for further interference on her part. Perhaps this man was not such an arrogant, objectionable creature as she had at first surmised if he could forgive his mount for savaging him. * Simon smiled ruefully as he rubbed his injured shoulder. 'Well, Brutus, I got my comeuppance from you, did I not?' The horse lipped his hand in apology. 'I know. I must learn to curb my temper. But that young woman brings out the worst in me. She needs to learn her place and remain silent on subjects that do not concern her.' If he was honest, it still rankled that she had thought to use the harness and one of the horses to pull her maid from the inside of the carriage. His breath hissed between his teeth. Good God! The wretched girl was correct. How could he have been so gullible? He'd taken a cursory glance at the bay's mouth and been fooled. He could legitimately return his purchase and demand a refund of his guineas. No, the gelding might not be the youngster he'd imagined, but he was more than adequate for his needs and he liked the way the animal had protected the girl. A slight movement in the archway attracted his attention. He glanced up to see her watching him. He hid his smile; he might dislike the chit intensely but he could not fault her courage. Few man would dare to return when he was in high dudgeon. 'Jenkins, fetch the tack. I shall take Brutus to the park for a gallop.' As he waited for his groom, he considered the young woman who'd almost made him lose his temper. She was nothing like Edward's wife; Lady Grayson and Miss Peterson were as different as chalk is to cheese. Ellen was dainty, with blue eyes and golden hair, and the sweetest nature one could wish for. Her younger sister was a veritable termagant. She did have remarkable green eyes and abundant nut brown tresses, but that was all there was to recommend her. The girl was overly tall and her features nondescript; one wouldn't exactly call her bracket-faced, but she was no beauty, that was for sure. Small wonder the interfering baggage had not taken when she had come out several years ago. Why should a man give up his freedom for a woman with a managing nature and a tongue like a whiplash? Possibly if she had been a substantial heiress some foolhardy gentleman might have offered for her. He had no wish to become caught in parson's mousetrap, he preferred to remain free of entanglements. A wife had no place in a serving soldier's life. His accumulated wealth and impeccable pedigree meant he was much sought-after by the matchmaking matrons he encountered on the Continent. Being a soldier gave him the excuse of duty to his Country when he wished to remove himself from possible entrapment. He swung into the saddle and clattered out of the yard, heading for Hyde Park. So early in the day there would be few people taking the air. Society frowned upon those who rode above a collected canter but if there was no one around he could please himself. Brutus pecked, almost losing purchase on the icy cobbles. * Lydia waited until the colonel had