Mahogany Is The Color Of Devotion

Chapter 23

Lafayette smoothed her hands down her knit jacket, her habit shirt underneath was set in place perfectly. Her skirt was loose and flowing, moving swiftly with every step she took. The stables was filled with beautiful mares, each of them healthy and glowing. 

She raised her hand, gently rubbing the snout of an auburn short hair. 

"What are you doing?" 

The voice surprised her and she turned around, placing a hand over her heart. Nicholas stood before her, he was wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His trousers were snug on his body, his stance wide. 

There was slight frown to his brow, his green eyes were piercing as he looked at her.

She made a, "hmph," sound in her throat before turning away from him, in search of the stable boy.

He followed close behind her, hist steps loud in the space. "Faye?" 

"I'm going riding. Isn't it obvious?"

Suddenly he reached out, his arm around her waist. His front was pressed to her back, the heat of him radiating onto her. She shivered, unable to contain her response.

She slapped at his arm, though he did not let go. "You'll do no such thing."

She twisted in his arm, looking up at him with a scowl. "I didn't realize I asked for permission, Sir Anderton."

He leaned close, unable to hold back the need to smell the musk of her. He repressed the urge to groan, instead, releasing her with a quickness. He pointed a finger at her, "You're pregnant, going riding isn't safe."

She scoffed, smoothing her riding skirt before narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm going riding, I don't need you to agree. We are married in name only, remember?"

Before he could retort she turned on her heels and headed for one of the stalls. She knew how to saddle a horse, and the quicker she was away from him the better. She opened the stall, saying soft soothing words to the horse while she grabbed for the saddle hanging on the wall. She brushed her fingers gently over it as she locked the leather straps into place.

Once she was done she stood back to admire her work, smiling triumphantly.

She walked the horse out of the stall and down the corridor, stopping to grab one of the headpieces . She struggled with it for a bit, growing frustrated when she couldn't get the horse to cooperate with her ministrations.

Familiar hands snatched the headpiece from her and quickly slid it onto the animal. Nicholas adjusted the headgear, making sure it was correct before stepping back and grabbing another headpiece.

She gasped, watching as he settled it onto his own.

"You are not coming with me. I assure you I don't need an escort." 

"It's a good thing I wasn't asking for permission, Mrs. Anderton."

She flushed before moving toward her horse, and hefting herself up onto it. With a quickness she flicked the reins, setting the horse into trot. 

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Nicholas cursed as he hurried onto his horse, "Lafayette!"

He knew he should just leave her be but he couldn't and so over the last week he had avoided her as much as possible, trying to convince himself that he could simply watch her from afar. But it was torture, pure and simple.

Seeing her and being unable to touch her or taste her or smell her. It was much more excruciating than he thought it would be.

And so when he saw her heading for the stables, he had to follow. He had expected her to be icy toward him, he had even anticipated it but a part of him still felt the sting of her anger.