Page 21 of The Lady Was Lying
“You have other sisters?” he asked Greydon in an attempt to stifle the awkwardness.
“Louisa is the youngest. She is not yet out and is staying with our brother Edward and his wife Violet for the season.”
“I always wanted siblings,” he responded, not realizing what he’d said until Emmeline chuckled.
“You have siblings,” she reminded him.
He smiled wryly. “Newly discovered. I was alone as a lad.”
Jane, who had been silently watching the exchange with a peculiar look on her face, weaved her arm through Belinda’s. “I cannot imagine being alone. It’s so nice to have sisters and brothers. There are so many things I wouldn’t know how to do without them.” She tipped her head to the side and asked, “Who taught you to ride?”
“My father. He had me on a pony as soon as my mother deemed me old enough.” He’d been too young to remember, but he’d heard stories, and he’d ridden all over Bramblewood at his father’s side as he grew older.
“Our brother Edward taught us,” Jane told him. “He has a splendid seat and is quite patient when required. He even let Belinda ride astride.”
“He didn’t let me,” Belinda replied tartly.
It took no effort to imagine her tearing across a field, skirts crumpled around her waist, hair whipping in the wind, thighs clenching and releasing as she moved with the powerful gallop of her horse. It would be hypnotic, probably. Hard to look away from.
Involuntarily, his gaze dipped to her lips. They were plump and pink, and he’d almost kissed them the night before. He swallowed and wrenched his gaze upward only to find her staring at him. Embarrassed, he tried to offer an apologetic smile. Her stare only narrowed.
“He didn’t discourage you either,” Jane responded, patting her sisters’ arm.
“Edward never cared much for propriety,” Belinda replied.
“He simply wants us to be happy,” Jane added.
“I suppose. We have ridden much less since he married.”
James opened his mouth to offer his escort, but Sebastian spoke first. “London is not the place to ride astride.”
“I’m aware.” Belinda hmphed. “Edward taught Emmeline to ride too.”
Her tone made it seem like she was trying to needle someone, but Emmeline only smiled. “It was entirely against my will at first. He tossed me onto his stallion without any warning. I was terrified for a solid ten minutes before I started to relax.”
“You became competent quickly,” Jane assured her.
“Sometimes you have to be forced to face your fears,” Emmeline replied. “It’s the only way to vanquish them.”
James sneaked another glance at Belinda.
Her eyes remained narrowed and focused on him.
If he stopped glancing at her, perhaps she would stop staring at him? He wanted to treat her with the same politeness he bestowed upon Jane, but the tension she inspired made it virtually impossible as the conversation turned to the weather. Even when he wasn’t looking at her, he was aware of her in a way he had never been with anyone else. Was it because he’d almost kissed her?
His palms were sweaty and his shoulders stiff by the time he escorted Emmeline to dinner. The table was small, though lavishly set. When they reached the head, he settled Emmeline into her chair and then took the seat on her left. Greydon escorted his sisters opposite James and then seated himself across from his wife.
The arrangement was intimate enough that they could converse freely. James was grateful that Emmeline and Jane directed the conversation. If he focused on the food—the beef was deliciously tender and the vegetables were perfectly cooked—and not Belinda, he could properly converse. They discussed the differences between London and the country and convinced him that he would be relieved to leave the crowded city when the season was over.
As the meal progressed, he caught himself thinking of Belinda’s lips and the fire in her eyes after he had refused to kiss her. He didn’t regret stepping away, but he couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if he hadn’t.
She abruptly excused herself after the last course, and once she was gone, he realized he hadn’t spoken directly to her the entire meal. It was probably for the best, as he had no idea what he’d say. With her apparent anger toward him and his fascination with her, it would likely be best if he steered clear of her in the future.
Wedged into the corner of the carriage, Belinda tucked her hands into the folds of her pelisse and stretched her legs out in front of her as she waited for the Duke of Avondale to bid farewell to her family. She hadn’t been certain how late he’d remain after they finished eating, so she’d excused herself directly after dinner and then sneaked outside and into his carriage. She didn’t love being idle, but she was significantly more prepared for the cold than she’d been the night before, so she was relatively comfortable as she peeked out the window yet again.
Her eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, so she stayed perfectly still as someone descended the staircase and headed toward the carriage.
Although she didn’t move a single muscle when the door opened, he must have sensed her presence because he stiffened as he climbed in, and his eyes locked with hers across the shadows as the door swung shut.
