Free Invitation to Scandal by Bronwen Evans Page A

panting stallion, and rubbed his nose. “He’s gorgeous, aren’t you, boy? Who wouldn’t be impressed by those strong shoulders and lean, powerful legs?”
    “Most women are thoroughly impressed with my physique, thank you for your praise,” an enraged male voice heralded from the shadows. “Caesar, here.”
    On hearing his master’s deep, commanding, baritone voice, the stallion quickly trotted across the corral to his side.
    She could sense Rufus at the edge of the field. The humid, still air, suddenly swirling with his presence. His raw virility set her pulse thudding, even from a distance.
    He’d found her. Casting about in desperation for a quick escape, she realized fleeing was useless. Once Rufus reentered the house, everyone would know she had been here. Due to the story of how she came by them, her horses were infamous.
    She’d have to brazen it out. Pretend this was nothing out of the ordinary, and act as if she had every right to have her horses in this field.
    Even so, panic rose up swiftly, instinct readying her to flee as two men advanced into the paddock. They were dressed all in black, the look threatening in the moonlight. Her heart accelerated as she recognized the taller, broader physique, but even then she could not hold her tongue.
    Irritation dribbled down her back like sweat. Dropping her voice to a lower octave and crossing her fingers behind her back, she responded, “There’s nothing interesting going on here, my lords. Simply mating some of Lord Hale’s horses.”
    His forceful gaze swept over Jamieson and her, trying to ascertain their identities. A shiver of fear sliced her insides. Damn the moon. She prayed it was dark enough, and her disguise good enough, that he would not know who she was. Perhaps he would think her one of Lord Hale’s stable boys.
    She ground her teeth in resignation. What was the worst that could happen? He was too late; the deed had been done, with one horse anyway.
    Eyes sharp as flint slashed in her direction, and she took a step back.
    Ignoring her, Lord Strathmore bent to study his horse. “Have you been having an enjoyable evening, Caesar? I hope you have not let the Strathmore name down and you have performed appropriately.”
    In a voice she hoped mirrored a young boy’s she said, “Actually we were debating if he had enough stamina to service the second filly.” Perhaps Lord Strathmore would think her being here, with his stallion, was a genuine mistake if she continued as if she’d done nothing wrong.
    “I think you will find Strathmore males are perfectly capable of pleasuring more than one female in one night.”
    A chuckle escaped from his companion while Jamieson gave a discreet cough.
    Rheda, thankful for what little darkness the moon provided, simply blushed, his insinuation not lost on her.
    Lord Strathmore approached until he towered over her, menace oozing from every pore. Rheda thought the effect was somewhat spoiled because he looked thoroughly enticing with his white ruffled shirt accentuating the black of his jacket. “We shall have to discuss how you are going to repay me for Caesar’s services—Miss Kerrich—Miss Rheda Kerrich—Rhe.”

Chapter 7
     
    R heda closed her eyes, knowing in the marrow of her bones that Lord Strathmore was the sort of man who would not stop until he got what he wanted, and now he had leverage.
    “Bloody hell,” she muttered. He’d not been fooled for a minute. She dropped her head in defeat. Not only had he found out who she was, he had caught her in the act, stealing from him, stealing his stallion’s seed.
    “Yes, you can say that again, bloody hell. Although such language from the mouth of a lady.” Lord Strathmore turned and glared at Jamieson. His voice, sounding more dark and dangerous, said, “At least you were not stupid enough to try this on your own.”
    “How on earth did you know what I was up to?”
    “Your brother and Lord Hale.”
    Her mouth gaped. She looked up at Lord