Page 42 of His Lordship's True Lady
Lily played endless rounds of catch while both girls stood between the adults and tried to snatch the ball, and the earl ensured they occasionally could.
While Lily smiled, laughed, and hid a growing sense of despair. Hessian Kettering had been sorely betrayed by a woman’s deceptions before. Now Lily was inveigling herself into his good graces, and he probably thought her very brave and forthright for disclosing Uncle’s agenda.
She was a lying coward, and that had never bothered her as much as it did now.
Daisy made a great leap for the ball, missed, and collapsed in a heap.
“You nearly got it!” Grampion called, though his good cheer had no effect.
Daisy sat in the grass sniffling, Bronwyn standing over her worriedly. “Did you break your ankle, Daze? Maybe you broke your leg, or your ankle and your leg.”
Grampion knelt in the grass. “I doubt it’s broken. Daisy is a robustly healthy young lady, with strong bones and nimble reflexes.”
He passed Daisy a handkerchief and unlaced her little half boot. “There, you see? A perfectly whole, pretty little foot.”
“And a stocking,” Bronwyn said, crouching. “Does it hurt like blazes, Daisy?”
“Y-yes, and I fell.”
“You took a graceful tumble,” Grampion retorted. “Can you wiggle your toes?”
She wiggled them.
“Can you wiggle your foot?”
Another wiggle.
He held his palm near her sole. “Can you kick my hand?” He made a production out of flinging his hand back when Daisy kicked his palm. “We have a mere field injury, which should come right with rest and a little cosseting. As it happens, Miss Ferguson has brought lemonade and cakes, also a storybook.” He scooped Daisy up and got her situated piggyback. “Shall we to the blanket, Miss Ferguson?”
Lily’s middle felt funny, and her heart was thumping against her ribs. She’d once wrenched her ankle badly when bringing the milk in from the dairy. She’d spilled one bucket and saved the other. Her foot had hurt for days, but all she’d got for her trouble was a thrashing and a week without supper.
“You’re sure Daisy doesn’t need a physician?”
“My Daisy is made of stern stuff. She’ll come right, you’ll see.”
“I’m made of stern stuff too,” Bronwyn announced. “But I would like some tea cakes.”
Lily took Bronwyn’s hand, though tea cakes wouldn’t help what ailed her. ShelikedGrampion, she respected him, she was attracted to him, and every time she told herself that such nonsense could go nowhere, he did something honorable or dear and wrecked her intentions all to flinders.
This would not do.
Grampion read the fable about the crow who was clever enough to raise the water level in a pitcher by dropping rocks into it, while the girls devoured tea cakes and tossed crumbs to presuming pigeons. All too soon, the outing came to an end, for it was the last outing Lily would permit herself with his lordship.
While the girls made a final inspection of the hedges for their rabbit friends, Grampion assisted Lily to fold up the blanket.
They started with a good shake, then stepped closer to match the corners. Grampion closed his fingers over Lily’s.
“Might you ride with me in the park tomorrow? Early, when it’s quiet and free of children.”
“My lord, I’ve confessed my uncle’s intention to turn your brother up sweet by inflicting my company upon you. You need not be gallant.”
He brushed a thumb over Lily’s knuckles, a small gesture that bespoke a great mistake in progress.
“Your uncle is an idiot, Lily Ferguson, if he thinks either Kettering brother can be swayed by a
pretty face and intelligent companionship. Won’t you please come riding with me?”
“That isn’t wise.”
