Damn it. He also would not be here if it weren’t for his foolishness in trusting the older man so many years ago.
And now here he was, chasing after a woman who was intentionally running from him. What a brilliant start to their marriage.
How bloody marvelous.
The wind tore at his ill-fitting clothing, which were both too large and too short, and stung his cheeks. He gripped the reins hard in his hands and encouraged the horse faster and faster.
And while his gain was incremental, he was slowly closing the distance between them.
The veiled bonnet ripped from Lady Sophia’s head, and her light brown hair spilled out in long, rippling waves. Still, she did not slow.
Every muscle in Kendal’s body clenched with the effort of staying low to his horse to ensure he could catch her. The houses they whipped past disappeared after a few minutes and gave way to a forest with a clearing in the distance. The clearing, however, appeared to end in a U-shaped cliff.
Lady Sophia must have realized this as well, for she spun her horse about and charged back toward him. Kendal intentionally placed his steed in her path, so her beast was forced to stop, which she did with a cry of dismay.
Her hair flew about her flushed face, and her eyes shone with desperation. “Please let me go,” she panted.
Kendal held his ground, shifting his horse this way and that to head her off. “You know I cannot.”
“Lord Kendal.” Her gaze turned pleading in a way that piqued his sympathy more than he cared to admit.
But he clenched his jaw and remained resolute.
Without warning, she threw herself from her horse, stumbling upon her landing and staggering into a run.
Kendal issued forth a weary exhale.
Was this how it was to be?
He dismounted his horse and gave chase. Where she was burdened by her skirts and the valise she stubbornly refused to relinquish, Kendal was unencumbered and free to sprint as swiftly as he was able. And he was fast. He had been ever since boyhood, a benefit of his leanly muscled frame.
So it was that he was able to get to her rather swiftly. She was within an arm’s reach when suddenly she pitched forward with a quick scream, spilling gracelessly to the ground.
For his part, Kendal was too close, his momentum too built up, to immediately cease running.
And while he did try, his feet tangled against one another in the futile effort, and he found himself falling as well. As he descended toward her, he managed to brace his arms, bracing his weight just before landing on top of her and narrowly avoiding crushing her.
It was the first time he’d come face to face with her in such close proximity, their faces a mere inch apart. She had always been lovely, of course, or she would not be sought after with such alacrity by so many suitors.
But up close as Kendal was to her, she was sheer perfection. She wore no powder on her face, and her bare skin was creamy and flawless, her cheeks flushed from the exertions of her intended escape. The sun slanted over them, lighting the depth of her blue eyes to a brilliance that unveiled flecks of green around her pupils. Her unbound hair spilled around her in honey-colored, citrus-scented waves he longed to bury his face in.
She gazed up at him wide-eyed, her lovely lips slightly parted in her surprise. A long, uncertain moment passed with them both frozen where they were—her lying out on the ground and him hovering over hers by the strength of his arms.
Her expression softened, and her lashes lowered as she glanced down at his mouth. Was it only his imagination, or did her breath catch?
His senses had most assuredly been knocked from him in the fall. She did not want to kiss him, and he did not want to lower his head to allow his mouth to glide over hers, to sample and learn if they were as sweet and soft as they looked.
He shouldn’t.
Except that he did.
He dipped his face to hers as she tilted her chin up toward him and her eyes closed. His mouth found the supple warmth of her lips in a delicate brush; one meant to be gentle. He kissed her then, with tenderness and care, not wanting to frighten her off once more.
Desire, hot and unexpected, shot through him like a lightning bolt. He was immediately hard, the depth of his need astonishing. Her mouth parted under his, and he swept his tongue against the silkiness of hers.
A little hum in the back of her throat pulled at him, encouraging him. Lust rose in him like a tidal wave, threatening to consume him.
But he would not be its slave.
His fingers closed around the blades of grass as he reined in his lust. She was a lady, one worthy of more respect than being groped about in the dirt.
He pushed off her, careful not to tangle himself in her bombazine skirts, and offered her a hand. “Forgive me, Lady Sophia.”
She studied his hand without reaching to accept it, her expression wary as if she were considering the possibility of running once more.
Sophia’s mouth was still warm from the press of Lord Kendal’s lips upon hers. Likewise, her blood was on fire from what he’d done with his tongue.
She’d kissed two men before. Simple, chaste pecks that had nothing to do with tongues.
Lord Kendal’s gaze burned into hers. “Don’t run.”
“You’d catch me, wouldn’t you?” There was a breathlessness to her tone she didn’t intend.
The skin around his eyes tensed in silent answer. He would.
This was it, then. She was done.
Her escape had been foiled, and she was now at the mercy of her father’s whims. She put her hand to his palm, and his long fingers curled around hers as he helped her easily to her feet.
A glance at the ground revealed two necklaces, four bracelets and pair of ruby earbobs glittering in the grass.
“My jewelry.” She dropped to her knees, frantically gathering them, and shoving them in her valise, which had come open upon her fall.
Wild anxiety pulsed through her as she was knocked aimlessly in the direction of a life someone else had chosen. Those gems were the only thing that could save her.
Or they could have.
They wouldn’t, anymore. Kendal had arrived to spirit her back to London and toward her dismal fate.
He crouched beside her and helped her replace the jewelry, as well as several other effects that she kept in her valise.
He carefully set a sapphire necklace inside the bag and reached for the set of earbobs. “You needn’t worry. We won’t leave any of it behind.”
Only then did she realize hot tears welled in her eyes, an unfortunate reaction to the desolate hopelessness resonating through her. “I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I can’t marry Mr. Mongerton.”
“You won’t be marrying him.” Lord Kendal said it as if it was the most commonly known bit of news ever.
Sophia stilled, desperate in her need to believe him, but too frightened to hope. “I beg your pardon?”
“You won’t be marrying Mongerton.” He studied her in a way that reflected no emotion. “You’ll be marrying me.”
“I beg your pardon?” she asked again, even more shocked this time. And certainly far less hopeful.
“I’ve been sent to retrieve you from Scotland and marry you, ensuring your reputation remains intact.”
“Well, this is hardly the most romantic offer of marriage I’ve ever had,” she managed with a croak.
“Mongerton did better?” Kendal lifted a brow. “I would have presumed my prompt journey to Scotland would have at least enhanced my reception somewhat.”