Free Miss Spencer Rides Astride (Heroines on Horseback) by Sydney Alexander Page B

said dryly. Grainne turned in the saddle and Prince Albert bounced, a little half-buck. She gave him a pop with her whip and he snorted.
    “Mr. Archer, I do wish you would announce yourself before you ride into the menage,” Grainne ground out through clenched teeth.  
    “I believe I did. Or does it only count if I stand in the entrance and wait politely for you to notice me? Because that, my dear, could last me an entire morning. You are as inattentive to your surroundings as your horse is overly attentive. Perhaps he feels that it is a shortcoming in your riding that he must compensate for.”
    Grainne brought Prince Albert down to a wobbly halt while Mr. Archer was making his speech. “Stand,” she told the youngster. “You are particularly odious this morning,” she told Mr. Archer sweetly. “Did someone salt your tea?”
    He grinned. “I knew that idea was in your head! That’s precisely why I don’t take tea with you in the tack room. The first time I laid eyes on you, I said to myself, there is a female who loves to behave like a ten year old boy.”
    “You were right about being a boy,” Grainne admitted ruefully. “I am beginning to dread changing back into dresses in the evening.” She looked down at her breeches and Albert began to walk off. “Stop that,” she scolded. “Did I ask you to walk?”
    “Probably felt your body shift and read it as a command.” Archer rode his novice over to join her in the center of the menage. The wood chips beneath the horses’ hooves released a faint musty smell with every step, and Grainne sneezed.
    “You might act like a boy, but you sneeze like a man!”
    “Oh, shut up.” She rubbed her sleeve across her nose.  
    Mr. Archer halted the horse close to Albert. The little colt, enjoying the prospect of company, leaned over and sank his teeth into the new horse’s neck. Archer’s horse swung his head and snapped back. “Oh!” Grainne snatched at the reins. “Mustn’t let them play while they’re mounted! Such terrible manners, Albert,” she chided the cob. She looked at Mr. Archer and narrowed her eyes. “You shouldn’t ride up so close. They’re not experienced enough yet.”
    “Inexperience can be a dangerous thing,” Mr. Archer agreed, looking very serious indeed. “Miss Spencer, have I mentioned how fetching you look in breeches today?”
    She glared at him.
    “Of course,” he said softly. “I apologize. We mustn’t play while we’re… mounted.”
    “Mr. Archer!” She was blushing furiously. How infuriating. And when had she learned to blush? Right about when Mr. Archer arrived in the yard, oddly enough.  
    “Have I said something amiss?” He looked contrite.
    “Mr. Archer, you are being most inappropriate,” she scolded, voice grave.
    “I am sorry if I offended you.”
    “You didn’t — that is —” Grainne found she had to stop and try to gather her thoughts. There was something about the way he was staring at her that made her brain seem slow and heavy. And other parts of her rapid and light. And… tingly.
    Yes, decidedly tingly.  
    “I forget that you are young and innocent,” Mr. Archer sighed, looking terribly forlorn. “A maiden unspoiled. Unused to the games grown-ups play.”
    Not entirely unused to them, she thought, and something scornful must have shown in her expression, for she did not imagine the sudden curiosity that flared in Archer’s eyes.
    Did he see a trace of color in her face? She moved Albert away. “Have you gotten that horse to canter yet, Mr. Archer?” she asked. It was high time he remembered that she was in charge of this yard, not just someone to joke around with. She wasn’t one of the lads. “No one else has. And I would like to know he is making progress.”
    “I have not,” he admitted. “But for you, I’ll try.”
    She circled Albert in little figure eights in the center of the ring, trying to help him learn to balance himself, while Mr. Archer warmed up the dark horse,