Page 30 of Nothing But a Rakehell
“Is anything wrong?” he asked.
“Wrong?” She blinked at him over Poppy’s back. “Of course not. What could be wrong?”
Well, clearly something was wrong. The answers would come, he suspected, because they could talk to each other—which was both surprising and . . . a comfort.
Yes. He felt comfortable with her. Spending time with her was like . . . wearing his favorite boots. He looked down at them with affection—and reminded himself never to be so foolish as to say such a thing out loud.
He reminded himself never to be so foolish as to gettoocomfortable, as well. It was all very well to boost her confidence. But he could not raise her hopes. Not for anything beyond a temporary friendship. He’d meant what he said, back on that ledge where they’d gazed down upon the rest of the world. It wasn’t too late for her to consider marriage. He still thought he could help her see that. As long as she didn’t make the mistake of considering him.
He would be careful. And in the meantime, he kept his mouth shut and lifted her into her saddle, and followed her out of the stable yard.
* * *
Is anything wrong?
Oh, not a thing. Not one thing. Not the agitation that had kept her tossing and turning all night. Not the irritating knowledge that every woman in the county either wanted to hide from him or kiss him. Not the fact that she still kept alternating between both of those.
No, what bothered her was that she couldn’t stop wondering if she’d been a fool to pass up her chance. And worse—the icy fear that it had been her one and only chance at being kissed, by anyone, ever.
She kept silent and he followed suit as they rode past the sprouting fields and over the bridge. Once they reached the open pasture, Keswick looked over and grinned. “Race to the river and back?” he dared.
In answer, she leaned down, whispered to Poppy and sent her hurtling for the water.
“Wait, now!” She heard him shout. But then he was thundering after her. Poppy picked up the spirit of the chase and stretched out and they fairly flew across the field. Glory pulled her into a tight turn and started back just as Keswick arrived. “Not fair!” he shouted.
She only grinned and bent lower, urging Poppy on. But the squire’s chestnut was strong and long of leg and clearly possessed a competitive spirit. He gained on them as they raced for the bridge. But her mare dug deep and put on a burst of speed and by the end had left Keswick and his mount more than a length behind.
Laughing, Glory sat up and slowed Poppy to a brisk walk. They circled around and she smiled at Keswick.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Yes, curse you.” She sighed. “I needed that.”
He laughed. “Let’s let them walk the length of the field and cool down.”
They set out, side by side, taking their time.
“I must thank you for your efforts yesterday,” she said at last. “They made a difference. This is the most normal I’ve ever felt at a gathering outside my own family.”
“I’m happy to have helped. That’s what our pact was for, was it not?”
“I fear I will not be able to return the favor.”
“You are doing so, now,” he protested. “You’ve saved me from another dark and dusty descent into the coal pit. And in any case, just wait. This party has only just begun. The worst could happen at any time.”
“What would be the worst?” she asked, intrigued.
“Gossip? Scandal? Jellies that won’t set up? I can think of several possibilities.”
“None of that would dare occur at one of Hope’s gatherings,” she vowed. They’d reached the water. “I think these two need a bit more cooling down,” she said, reaching down to pat Poppy’s neck.
They headed along the long sweep of the river. “I don’t understand how you prefer London.” She shook her head. “I feel overwhelmed with just a houseful of people—and it’s only been one day.”
“You are not accustomed to it, that is all. It will grow easier.” He lifted a shoulder. “And actually, there is an anonymity to be found in a crowded city. A man can blend in. Here, I walk in the village and everyone knows my name and where I am staying and for how long. In London, I’m just another young buck about Town.”
She snorted. “I doubt you’ve ever been anonymous anywhere, ever, a day in your life.”
“Well . . .” His expression darkened. “At times it is easier than others.” He held silent a moment. “I am fortunate, though. There are times when I need to retreat.” Like now. “Luckily, I have the solace of my friends, then. I can always withdraw to their care, should the need arise.”
