A soft chuckle shook Ashton’s shoulder. “A pest to you, maybe.”

“It’s needless to rant on about our lack of regard for each other,” Malcolm stated coldly. “I don’t believe either one of us is suffering from any illusions concerning our feelings.”

“I don’t think so,” Ashton agreed. “The hatred seems mutual.”

Malcolm smiled tightly. “Then you can understand why I’m not going to let Lenore accept your gift, so you might as well save yourself some expense.”

“I wasn’t concerned with getting your approval when I started searching, Malcolm,” Ashton responded, unperturbed. “Expressing your feelings to me changes nothing. I’ve already found a mare for the lady. In fact, it should be delivered to me shortly.”

“I won’t let her accept it!” Malcolm shouted. “Can’t you understand?”

Ashton lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “The mare will be kept here for Lierin’s pleasure. Hickory can see that the horse is made ready for her whenever she wants it.”

Rather slack-jawed at the man’s audacity, Malcolm slumped back into his saddle. “I don’t believe you. I really don’t believe a man can be as stubborn as you are. You make me wonder what you have for brains. If you think I’m going to let Lenore ride that horse, you have none! Absolutely none!”

“You’d like to keep her prisoner in that house, wouldn’t you?” Ashton challenged. “You haven’t let her go anywhere without you while I’ve been here….”

“For the obvious reasons!” Malcolm barked. “Because you’re here! I don’t want the same thing to happen to her that happened to Mary! And that took place right after you arrived! Tell me, Mister Wingate, why was that? It was peaceful and quiet before you came!”

“Of course, it was,” Ashton replied sardonically. “There was no one to challenge your little domain. And you know as well as I do that neither I nor any of my crew had anything to do with Mary’s murder.”

“I don’t know anything of the kind!” Malcolm objected.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” Ashton sneered. “Maybe I was wrong. But then, I understand why you’d want me to be accused of the murder. You’d like nothing better than to be free of me, so you can keep Lierin locked up in that damned house!” The anger came upon him at the idea, and he jabbed an arm out in the direction of the wooden structure as he delivered the accusation: “You’re afraid to let her go free, because you’re scared you’ll lose her or whatever she has that you want.”

“What are you suggesting?” Malcolm squawked.

The coldness came back in Ashton’s eyes as he stared boldly into the other’s face and made his reply: “Her father is getting on in years. He’s a drunk and therefore accident-prone. You could be a rich man one day if you just hang on and let nature take its course.”

“I have wealth of my own!” the other man insisted.

“Where? Show me where!” Ashton demanded. “As far as I can tell, you have no holdings. You’re not a planter. You have no land. You come and go like the sparrow, settling in to roost wherever you can find a warm, sheltered spot and leaving nothing behind but your droppings when you flit away.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Malcolm said, savagely jerking the reins through his hand. The horse tossed his head as the bit tore into his mouth and sidled away from the wooden platform. Malcolm turned him around in a circle, delivering one last suggestion over his shoulder: “Forget the mare, Wingate, and save yourself some money. I’m not going to let Lenore ride her.”

He kicked the horse into a full-out run, then barely a moment later brought him to a sliding halt before the house. Leaping off the stallion’s back, he thrust the reins into the stable boy’s hands and mounted the steps to the porch. His footsteps fell like thunder against the planks, bearing testimony to his rage as he strode to the end of the veranda where Lenore stood. He did not notice how she trembled when she faced him or the hesitancy in the green eyes. He was too intent upon laying down his ultimatum and having her submit to his authority.

“That buffoon who lives in the tent over there has purchased you a mare….” He smirked in hateful derision as he detected her surprise. “You needn’t be overwhelmed by his generosity just yet, my dear. I forbid you to accept her.” His eyes hardened with a dark, glaring sheen as he added, “And you will obey me.”

He left her and pushed his way into the house, making Lenore flinch as he slammed open the door. It seemed almost peaceful after his passage upstairs, and after a lengthy moment of quietness she breathed a sigh of relief, deciding Malcolm’s temper tantrum was over for the present moment.

The news he had brought settled down upon Lenore and, glancing over her shoulder, she saw Ashton still on the decking. His feet were braced apart, and one arm was folded across his midsection, with the back of the hand supporting the elbow of the other arm as he held the cigar in front of his mouth. She could almost see him squinting through the smoke and rolling the cheroot between his thumb and fingers as he stared at her. Even with the space that separated them, she felt the weight of his steady regard. A light blush warmed her cheeks as she sensed what he was thinking, and it had naught to do with Malcolm.

The delivery of the mare came the next day, thankfully while Malcolm was gone. A man on horseback led her behind him at a leisurely walk, passing across the front lawn and bringing Lenore out of the house in breathless haste to watch the flashy mare parade past. The steed was a bay with long, flowing mane and tail that swept full and free. The tail flagged high as the mare arched her neck and progressed with small, mincing steps, seeming anxious to break into a showy jig. She was tall and incredibly fine-boned, and Lenore sensed with certainty that the delicate bones in her slender legs would break long before her spirit did.

Regardless of the two guards who strolled out onto the lawn to prevent closer passage, the horseman continued on his casual way until he neared the decking outside the tent. Ashton came out to greet him with a broad smile, and the stranger swung down, shook hands, and then nodded as Ashton spoke and motioned for him to take the mare to a spot closer to the house, threateningly close to the boundary that marked the division between his own claim and the one he had allowed Malcolm. As the fellow complied, the two guards exchanged worried comments and, gesturing to one another, hurried to where they might prevent any possible infraction. Lenore went to stand at the end of the porch as the stranger displayed the mare, but it was not nearly close enough. Lifting up her skirts, she ran back across the veranda, down the steps, and over to where the small group of men were gathered around the mare…the guards on one side of the line, Ashton, the stranger, and the horse on the other. One of the guards glanced over his shoulder and saw Lenore coming, then hastened to block her passage. Ready for a set-to, Ashton stepped around the steed, but Lenore looked up at the man with some determination of her own.

“You will kindly remove yourself from my path,” she commanded in a low, threatening tone, “or I shall be forced to make an advance, through you, over you, or however you would have it. If you persist, you will have to bind me physically, because I shall be tempted to rake the skin from whatever portion of your hide is available, starting with the face. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashton hid a chuckle as the fellow looked in wide bemusement at his companion, seeking some help there and finding none. It was one thing to get into a brawl with a man, but quite another to enter into a fray with a woman, especially one that displayed so much fire. Mumbling in worry, he stepped back, allowing her to proceed.

“Oh, Ashton, she’s beautiful!” Lenore declared as she made a slow tour around the horse, unmindful of the boundaries that kept the men apart. “What’s her name?”

“Heart o’Mine,” he replied with a grin of pleasure.

Lenore laughed and fondly stroked the mare’s withers. “An appropriate name.”

“I thought so,” he agreed, peering at her from under his brows as he smiled with boyish charm. “She’s something special, just like you. You’ll look good on her.”

Lenore sighed as Malcolm’s order came back to mind. “But I can’t accept her. It would cause too much trouble.”

Ashton had been expecting the reply. “I’ll keep her over here where she’ll be safe. Whenever you’d like to admire her…or ride her…she’ll be ready for you. At your convenience, madam.”

Lenore was sorely tempted. “Perhaps if I just borrowed her from time to time, Malcolm would let me ride.” She shook her head, rejecting the idea, then settled her hands on her hips with an exasperated sigh. “I’m getting so bored in the house, I need to get out, and what better way than to ride?” A sudden inquisitive smile replaced her frown. “Can you have her saddled for me…now?”

One of the guards stepped forward. “Mrs. Sinclair, I don’t think you should…”

“Bah!” Lenore promptly silenced his unfinished suggestion. “I’ll do what I want to, and if Malcolm doesn’t like it…then, that’s too bad.”

Grinning, Ashton took the mare’s reins and began to lead her to where Hickory stood waiting outside the smaller tent, while the lady went racing back to the house in a rather undignified manner, lifting her skirts well past her ankles.

“Meghan!” she called as she tore up the stairs. “Meghan, fetch me a habit. I’m going riding!”

In no time Lenore was back, dressed in a summer habit of pearl gray, with a white jabot tumbling in lace-trimmed layers from her throat. As she crossed the boundary line, she took note that Ashton’s stallion was also saddled and stood a short distance away where Hickory held him in check. Ashton waved the stranger farewell and stepped to Heart o’Mine, lifting Lenore onto her back while the cabin boy stood at the horse’s head.