Page 54 of Marry in Secret
Thomas could feel the eyes of his brothers-in-law boring into his back.
Rose gave him a sunny smile. “Isn’t it a glorious morning?” She was dressed in a blue habit that matched her eyes, trimmed with silver in a vaguely military style, with a saucy shako perched on her head.
“Wonderful,” he responded dryly. She looked glorious, but the day was gray and chilly, with a brisk breeze sending the clouds scudding across the sky. The middle of spring; to Thomas’s bones, it felt like winter.
Rose leaned across and said softly, “It’s a bit like a school crocodile, going in pairs, I know, but once we get to the park we can spread out and be more private.”
He was glad to hear it. He had no intention of saying what he had to in front of her brother.
“You said you wouldn’t visit. What changed your mind?” she asked as the gates of the park came into view.
He gave her a sideways glance. “Ollie received your invitation.”
“Oh, good. You got yours, too, of course.”
“There wasn’t one for me.”
She turned in surprise. “You mean we didn’t send you one?”
“Apparently not.”
She gurgled with laughter. “George,” she called. “We forgot to send Thomas an invitation.”
George turned her head. “He doesn’t need one, he’s the guest of honor.”
Rose laughed again. “There’s your answer. You’re the guest of honor.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
Her face was full of mischief. “When I saw you next, of course.”
“And if I didn’t visit? What if I decided to go to the country and didn’t hear about the ball? What if I didn’t turn up?”
She gave another merry peal of laughter. “That would have been embarrassing, wouldn’t it? I’d get an even worse reputation than I already have for being careless with bridegrooms, and Aunt Agatha would crow with triumph.” He was humbled by her utter confidence in him, but it was foolish.
They passed through the gates of Hyde Park and their pace picked up. At this hour the park was virtually deserted, the earth fragrant and damp after the recent rain and the grass so green it almost hurt Thomas’s eyes. He’d forgotten grass could be so green.
Lady George twisted around in her sidesaddle, winked at Rose and called, “Cal, race you to the big tree on the other side of the park.” And before her uncle could answer, she was off and racing, riding like fury,ventre à terre, her dog streaking along beside her.
Ashendon, cursing reckless young women who obviously wanted to break their necks, set off after her. Galbraith, chuckling, joined his wife. They rode off together, leaving Rose and Thomas alone with the grim Scottish groom.
“That’s Cal sorted,” Rose said with satisfaction. “And Kirk won’t bother us. He looks fierce but that’s just anexpression he uses to intimidate people. He’s really very sweet. Now come along, a quick gallop to blow away the cobwebs and by the time Cal gets back we’ll be nicely out of sight and able to talk.”
She urged her mount to a gallop and headed in the opposite direction from her brother. She was almost as good a horsewoman as Lady George. Thomas’s horse had to struggle to keep up. The Scottish groom followed, hanging back discreetly.
It was exhilarating, the race across the fragrant earth, the pounding hooves, the wind cold in his face, the heat of the horse beneath him, the laughing girl just ahead of him. It more than blew the cobwebs away, it blew away the years. He just wished he had a decent horse.
They reached a pretty copse of trees, and Rose slowed and then drew her horse to a halt. She took one look at his mount and laughed. “Your poor horse, Thomas. Next time we’ll arrange for you to ride Emm’s horse—it needs to be exercised more, now that Emm’s in no condition to ride.” She unhooked her leg from the sidesaddle and slid gracefully to the ground. She turned to the groom with a smile. “Kirk?”
“Aye, Lady Rose.” He came forward and took her reins, waited for Thomas to dismount and took his as well, then withdrew to a circumspect distance where he could watch but not hear.
“Good morning, Thomas,” she said demurely, then reached up and planted a kiss on his mouth that was anything but demure.
Too aware of the watching groom, and with the proposition he was about to put to her weighing heavy on his conscience, Thomas resisted the temptation she offered. He took two steps back. “You’re determined to go ahead with this marriage?”
She nodded and said softly, “I told you before, Thomas, I’m not giving up on you.”
Wind stirred the branches, sending a spatter of raindrops from the wet leaves. “Then don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
