The viscountess studied them for a long moment, and then leaned forward in her chair . . . causing Dove to yelp in disgruntlement. “I confess that I haven’t ridden since—” “Waterloo?” “Gabriela, I swear it will be a miracle if you do not find me with my hands around your throat at some point or another,” Lady Yardley growled. “Your ladyship,” Ana María gasped, before slowly allowing her lips to twist into a harlequin grin, “at least allow me to hold her down for you.”
