He nodded. "I'll have my groom wait for you with the horses at the corner of Park Lane. After your ride, he'll return the mare to my stables."
"Thank you." She smiled gratefully, too wise to suggest that she would much prefer his company to that of his groom's.
"What time?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Six o'clock."
"Six?" Martin stared. It was nearly twelve now, and at six in the morning, the park would be deserted.
"I'll need to return home before the regulars get about." She glanced up at him. "I don't want my cousins to see the horse and ask where I got her."
"Your cousins?"
"My male Cynster cousins. They're older than me. They're all married and have turned dreadfully stuffy."
Martin inwardly kicked himself for not making the connection sooner. Admittedly, there were a lot of Cynsters, and he'd never heard of any girls. All the family members he'd previously encountered had been male.
The Bar Cynster-that's what they'd been called. When he'd first come on the town they'd been little short of gods, lording it over the ton's ladies. But now they'd all married… he hadn't met a single one in the past year while he'd been creating his own fiefdom in the world in which they'd previously reigned supreme.
He frowned. "You're first cousin to St. Ives?"
She nodded, her gaze open, direct.
If any of her cousins had been about, he would have handed her into their care forthwith, cutting short her adventures. Infinitely safer all around. However, she was here now and they weren't.
They both turned as Reggie neared, a champagne flute in one hand.
Lips compressed, Martin nodded. "Very well. Six o'clock at the corner of Park Lane."
At six o'clock the next morning, it was dull, gray and cold. Amanda's heart soared as, perched on the exceedingly frisky mare, she trotted toward Mount Gate-and the figure perched atop a huge horse waiting impatiently under a tree just inside the gates.
Clad in her riding habit, she'd slipped out of her parents' side door and hurried up the street. Reaching the corner, she'd found the groom waiting as arranged. Hopes dashed, she'd lectured herself against expecting too much too soon. Dexter knew she was out riding-one day he'd be tempted to join her.
She'd apparently tempted him enough. Mounted on a magnificent roan gelding, Dexter held the fractious horse effortlessly, long, muscular thighs clamped to the beast's sides. He was wearing a conventional riding coat over buckskin breeches and boots; cantering up, she thought he looked wilder, definitely more dangerous than he had in evening clothes.
His hair was rakishly disheveled, his gaze disconcertingly acute. He wasn't frowning, but looked distinctly grim. Joining him, she got the definite impression he wasn't pleased to be there.
"Good morning, my lord. I didn't expect to have the pleasure of your company." She smiled sunnily, delighted to be able to make the comment truthfully. "Are you game for a gallop?"
Martin eyed her impassively. "You'll find that I'm game for almost anything."
Her smile brightened before she looked away. "Let's head down to the Row."
Martin flicked a glance at his groom. "Wait here."
They set out in unison, trotting across the lawns beneath the trees. She busied herself trying out the mare's paces. Martin watched, relieved to note she was a competent horsewoman-not that he'd seriously expected less from a Cynster, female or not.
"From what Connor said, I take it your cousin-I can't remember which one-still has an active interest in horses."
"Demon." She experimented with the mare's reins. "He's got a stud outside Newmarket, now. He breeds racehorses, and Flick rides them."
"Flick?"
"His wife, Felicity. She's a wonder with horses-she helps train them."
Martin couldn't settle that image in his mind. The Demon Cynster he'd known would never have let a mere woman near his mounts. He shook that conundrum aside and refocused on the one at hand. "So if Demon sees the mare, he'll recognize her."
"Even if someone else sees her and describes her. Nothing is more certain." Amanda glanced at him. "That's why I can only ride this early, when there's no one else about."