Page 29 of Nothing But a Rakehell
“They’ve made a bet. Each will try to get the viscount to kiss them. First one to succeed is the winner.”
Glory’s mouth dropped. “They never! What sort of girls has Hope invited to this house party?”
“Naturally curious ones, I should say.” Miss Munroe swung around to look. “Just look at him.” She sighed. “He’s gorgeous. Those eyes! And that jaw line is spectacular. I’m not sure I would refuse him a kiss in the shrubbery, should the chance come up.”
Glory felt ill. Hot and flushed and suddenly horribly aware of the buttered prawns she’d eaten.
Hope, passing by, caught a glimpse of her and stopped. “Glory, my dear, are you well?”
“No. I suddenly feel warm.”
“Have you overtaxed yourself? I’m so sorry—”
“No. No. It’s just—I think something has not agreed with me.” She stood and gave Miss Munroe a nod. “Forgive me. I think I need to retire for the evening.”
“Of course.” Miss Munroe stood, as well, and squeezed her hand. “I do hope you feel better.”
She would. Eventually.
When this blasted party was over.
* * *
Tensford had arrangedan expedition down into the depths of the coal pit for the male guests this afternoon. Keswick cried off, using his previous descent as his excuse.
“Very well, Kes, but do come join us at the top of the hill afterward. We’ll crack a keg when we come up and Hope has packed us a hamper of cheese and sausages to go with it.”
“Ah, manly food,” he said with a wink at the countess.
She laughed. “Indeed, and I hope you will enjoy it. I’m taking the ladies for a ride down to the village and then we shall enjoy a more delicate tea, here, afterward.”
Which was exactly why Keswick was waiting in the stables after they all set off, currying the squire’s fine chestnut and feeding him slices of apple.
It was a hunch that paid off when Lady Glory came in, just as he’d hoped.
She wore her more ordinary habit today—and she didn’t notice him at first. She went straight to her mare’s stall and let herself in. He watched as she stroked Poppy’s nose, murmured something, then hugged the mare, leaning into her, as if seeking comfort.
Approaching, he cleared his throat. She started and straightened—and didn’t look too happy to find him there.
It didn’t deter him. In fact, the arrival of the other guests had only reinforced how differently she reacted to him. It struck him again, now. No cringing or eye-darting avoidance. No gleam of morbid curiosity or challenge. Every time, she met him openly, with sincere emotion.
Which, to be honest, looked like annoyance right now.
Was she annoyed with him? Or had she, perhaps, run into someone who reacted badly to her limp? He’d caught an arse of a young gentleman leaning over the railing, watching her walk through the front hall on her way to breakfast this morning. The lordling had turned back to his friend, jeering and imitating her limp. Keswick’s sharp offer to defend the lady’s honor if necessary had drained the color from the boy’s face and had him offering up apologies—but it left Keswick sick at the thought of her facing this sort of casual cruelty.
“I had an inkling you would avoid the village—and that you’d take the chance to ride out, instead. I thought, perhaps, I might join you?”
He turned it into a question, as her expression had not lightened. For a moment, as she stared at him, assessing, he thought she might deny him. But she let out a breath and gave a curt nod. “Fine, then. But I’ve promised not to go far. I meant to merely follow the river out to the field at the bend.”
He moved away to fetch a saddle. “The destination doesn’t matter. It was your company I sought.”
She paused in untangling her tack. “Why?”
He glanced up, surprised. “Because you are the most amusing person here, by far.”
It was the wrong thing to say, judging by the growing thunder behind her eyes, but she gave him the truth—he felt he owed her no less.
She turned back to Poppy and he watched her ready her mare as he worked with his own mount. She moved carefully, but with the ease of long habit and no impediment from her leg. How could anyone look at her and see only her lameness? Her beauty was unusual—comprised of high cheek bones and pale skin that contrasted beautifully with lovely warm lips and auburn hair . . . Actually, he thought her color was high at the moment, and her lips were pressed together.
