The sound of the wheels was the sweetest music that she had ever heard and that the Marquis himself was Apollo driving his chariot across the sky to disperse all that was dark and unpleasant with his divine light.
‘I love him!’ Nolita thought and was aware how handsome he was and how supremely well he drove the horses.
It seemed absurd, but she thought that she could never have loved a man who was not part of the horse he was riding or in complete control of the horses he drove, as the Marquis was.
She looked at his hands holding the reins and remembered how she had held one of them in hers and the feeling it had given her.
“You are very quiet,” the Marquis commented.
They had left the houses and traffic of London behind and reached the open countryside.
Because she felt as if he mig
