The Search for Love by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2012-12-12T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Serenity insisted on receiving her riding lesson after the midday meal, vetoing both the suggested prescription of a long rest and the prospect of summoning a doctor.

“I don’t need a doctor, Grandmère, and I don’t need a rest. I’m perfectly all right.” She shrugged aside the morning’s incident. “A few bumps and bruises; I told you I’m indestructible.”

“You are stubborn,” the countess corrected, and Serenity merely smiled and shrugged again.

“You have had a frightening experience,” Christophe inserted, studying her with critical eyes. “A less strenuous activity would be more suitable.”

“For heaven’s sake, not you, too!” She pushed away her coffee impatiently. “I’m not some mid-Victorian weakling who subsides into fits of vapors and needs to be coddled. If you don’t want to take me riding, I’ll call Yves and accept his invitation for the drive, which you refused for me.” Her fine-boned face was set, and her chin lifted. “I am not going to go to bed in the middle of the day like a child.”

“Very well.” Christophe’s eyes darkened. “You will have your ride, though perhaps your lesson will not be as stimulating as what Yves intended.”

She stared at him for a moment in bewilderment before color seeped into her cheeks. “Oh, really, what a ridiculous thing to say.”

“I will meet you at the stables in half an hour.” He interrupted her protestations, rose from the table, and strode from the room before she could formulate a suitable rebuttal.

Turning to her grandmother, her face was a picture of indignation. “Why is he so insufferably rude to me?”

The countess’s slim shoulders moved expressively, and she looked wise. “Men are complicated creatures, chérie.”

“One day,” Serenity predicted with an ominous frown, “one day he’s not going to walk away until I’ve had my say.”

***

Serenity met Christophe at the appointed time, determined to focus every ounce of energy into developing the proper riding technique. She mounted the mare with concentrated confidence, then followed her silent instructor as he pointed his horse in the opposite direction from that which they had taken on their last outing. When he broke into a light canter, she copied his action, and she experienced the same intoxicating freedom as she had before. There was, however, no sudden, exciting flash of smile on his features, no laughter or teasing words, and she told herself she was better off without them. He called out an occasional instruction, and she obeyed immediately, needing to prove both to him and herself that she was capable. So she contented herself with the task of riding and an infrequent glance at his dark, hawklike profile.

Lord help me. She sighed in defeat, taking her eyes from him and staring straight ahead. He’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I’ll end up a crotchety old maid, comparing every man I see to the one I couldn’t have. I wish to God I’d never laid eyes on him.

“Pardon?” Christophe’s voice broke into her silent meditations, and she started, realizing she must have muttered something aloud.

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