Page 17 of Nothing But a Rakehell
She knew the question didn’t truly echo through the room like the reverberation of a gong. But she felt the shuddering aftermath of it up and down her spine, nonetheless.
It was an innocent question.
It didn’t feel like it.
She had to answer, but her brow had furrowed and her shoulders hunched as if all the pain of the pitying, judgmental or disdainful reactions she’d ever suffered was about to descend upon her.
Suddenly, she straightened. Shook her head and threw her shoulders back. This was not who she was—a girl who cowered and hid. It never had been. If misery came, she would bear it. She was done hiding.
Still, hope squeezed her heart as she turned to face him. “It’s an old injury,” she said, cursing inwardly at the tightness of her voice. “It happened when I was a child. The damage to my leg is permanent.”
He looked up, distracted from the kitten he was holding.
Chin held high, she took a limping step toward him.
His gaze ran down the length of her and then back to the kitten. “Oh. Sorry to hear it. I suppose that explains why you love riding so much, doesn’t it?” He sounded perfectly matter of fact. “So much easier to get around—especially with a seat like yours.” He glanced up and beckoned her. “Come and sit and enjoy them for a moment before you run off and tattle on poor Grumpet.”
Stunned, she went and sat near him.
“Why Grumpet?” he asked.
She blinked, still not sure what had just happened.
Nothing. Nothing had happened.
She had revealed her secret to this large, striking man, with his coat molded across his broad shoulders and his big hands full of purring kitten, and his reaction had been . . . negligible.
“Did you name her?”
“Ah, no. She’s a cranky soul. She loves the horses, but despises the stable hands and grooms. Tensford’s personal groom is a Scotsman and he’s the only one who can get close to her. He scratches her ears and calls her a ‘wee grumpet’ and the name stuck.”
“A good name, then. Though she’s not objecting to me.”
“No, she isn’t.” Tiny smile lines appeared at the corners of his eyes as he laughed at the kitten.And neither am I.
“Well, she does need to go back to the stable, doesn’t she?” He pulled a face as he glanced back into the corner. “Even if only so someone can clean up after her. Do you have a basket large enough to carry them all out? I’ll help you get her home.”
“I’ll fetch one from the housekeeper.”
“Fine. I’ll wait here.” He grinned at her over the kitten’s tiny face. “And don’t feel as if you need to hurry on my account. I’m perfectly happy right here.”
* * *
An hourlater they walked back together from the stables. He carried the basket and had shortened his stride to match hers. When they reached the gate that led to Hope’s garden, he paused.
“Do we have time to sit a moment, do you think?” he asked.
She flinched. Was this it? Had he merely delayed his reaction until their task was done? Was he going to be one of those who acted over-concerned and coddled her like a babe in swaddling blankets? “If you are asking because you think I need to rest, there’s no need.”
It came out sharper than she had meant it to.
He raised a brow at her.
She glared back.
He sucked in a breath and blew it out. “I haven’t noticed any grooms carrying you about or anyone pushing you in a Merlin chair. Ihaveseen you ride. Enough to know that you must do a great deal of it. All of this makes me assume you are quite willing, able and experienced at walking back and forth between the house and the stables.” He waved a hand toward the house. “Go on if you like. Your sister’s garden is lovely. I just thought I’d like to sit there with a pretty girl for a moment. But you must do as you see fit.”
A pretty girl? A flush of pleasure mixed with her embarrassment. “I . . . I am sorry. I shouldn’t be so defensive.”
