Free Patricia Rice by This Magic Moment Page A

whatever is necessary to make you comfortable here until we can return to London.”
    She blinked and tried to analyze the white spike of light through his dark aura. Sometimes reading auras was even more difficult than reading expressions or tones. Perhaps she ought to just stick to words until she had a better understanding of her new husband.
    “I’m comfortable in the woods.” She gestured at the copse of trees now dipping to the rush of the oncoming storm. “If it’s me you’re concerned about, you may smile now.”
    That, at least, relaxed his thunderous expression. His golden-brown eyebrow shot up, and he wore that “what now” expression he sometimes adopted when she said something particularly odd.
    She didn’t want Harry to think of her as an oddity, or as an “imaginative little creature.” She wanted him to see her as a woman worth loving. Uncertain how to go about that, she kicked her horse into a gallop and raced ahead of him.
    To her satisfaction, he galloped his big black gelding alongside her, not pulling ahead as he could easily do but guarding her flank like an old-fashioned courtier. Delighted, she brought her mount to a dancing halt at the granite step and bestowed her best smile on him.
    “I can’t believe this is my home and you’re a duke, Harry. This is like some magnificent fairy tale come true.”
    He swung off his horse and stood ready to help her down. “Then let’s hope this isn’t the palace cursed by the wicked witch where the princess comes to grief. Come along, Rapunzel, let’s see what spell you can cast.”
    Thrilled that he hadn’t called her foolish, Christina placed her hands on his shoulders and let him swing her down, even though she was perfectly capable of dismounting on her own. Harry’s hands tightened around her waist, and he brought her so close, she could see the whiskers on his jaw and smell the very male odor of perspiration from their long ride. She inhaled deeply, wanting to know more of his masculinity after being surrounded all her life by females. His heat felt good against the cool wind plastering her clothes to her body.
    His hands lingered, and from the way he gazed into her eyes, she thought perhaps he’d kiss her again. She longed to explore the sensations he had taught her earlier, but just as he lowered his head, the front doors of the Tudor manor swung open.
    “Harry! Where’s your carriage? We had no word of your arrival.”
    Reluctantly pulling back from Harry’s embrace, Christina watched as a beautiful woman swept from the barren step down to the drive in a froth of lace, black silk, swinging panniers, and perfume. Behind her followed a gentleman in equally expensive mourning attire, although he wore an expression of amusement and interest instead of the sorrow of his companion. She immediately liked the looks of his reddish-blond hair and the shades of blue in his aura. She thought she could trust him.
    The woman she wasn’t so certain about. There was a little too much dull gold in her aura that could indicate jealousy and selfishness, but she was radiant in black. Defensively, Christina clung to Harry’s arm.
    “Christina, my cousins, Margaret and Peter Winchester.” Harry pulled her to his side as Peter bowed low. “Meg and Pete are cousins, thrice removed, I believe we decided. Their father runs this place.” In introduction, Harry gestured proudly. “My bride, Christina.”
    “Your Grace.” Margaret made a sweeping curtsy, her neatly coiffed blond head dipping low.
    Disconcerted to be so addressed by someone older and more elegant than herself, Christina tried not to grimace. She hated starting out on the wrong foot.
    A rainbow glimmer hovering in the dark of the open doorway caught Christina’s eye, and her dismay dissipated. “Oh, do you have ghosts?” she cried, hurrying forward, ignoring Margaret’s elegant display of manners. “Harry, if you have given me a haunted house, I shall adore you for the rest of my