approve.”
Philip’s deep rumbling laughter had her setting her teeth.
“Oh, well done!” he eventually said. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
Antonia glared at him, then clicked the reins, setting the horses to a definite trot.
Philip straightened his lips. “Rest assured that my standing with the Master is sufficient that such a request will be interpreted in the most favourable light.”
The glance Antonia threw him held enough lingering suspicion to make him narrow his eyes. “I do not, dear Antonia, have any reputation for corrupting the innocent.”
She had, he noted, sufficient grace to blush.
“Very well.” Antonia nodded but kept her gaze locked on the leader. “I’ll mention the matter to Geoffrey.”
“No—leave that to me. He’ll be more receptive to the idea if I suggest it.”
Antonia knew her brother well enough not to argue. Head high, she turned the horses for home, determinedly disregarding the inward flutter Philip had managed to evoke.
After studying her profile, Philip said no more until she pulled the horses up before the front steps. Descending, he strolled leisurely around to come up beside her, meeting herwatchful, slightly wary gaze with open appreciation. “A commendable first outing. To my mind, you’re still holding them a little tight in the curves but that judgement will come with practice.”
Before she could reply, he twitched the reins from her hands and tossed them to the groom who had come running from the stables. While the movement had her distracted, he closed his hands about her waist, well aware of the tension that gripped her as he lifted her down.
“You’ll be pleased to know,” he glibly stated, holding her before him and gazing down into suddenly wide eyes, “that I’m completely satisfied that your peculiar ability to communicate with the equine species operates even when you’re not perched upon their backs.”
Antonia continued to stare at him blankly. Reluctantly, Philip released her.
“You—” Antonia blinked wildly. It was an effort to summon not only her voice but the indignation she felt sure she should feel. Breathless, she continued, “Do you mean to say that today was a…a test? ”
Philip smiled condescendingly. “My dear Antonia, I know of your talents—it seemed rational to test them. Now I know they’re sound, there seems little doubt you’ll prove a star pupil.”
Antonia blinked again—and wished there was some phrase in his speech to which she could take exception. In the end, she drew herself up and fixed him with a direct and openly challenging stare. “I assume, my lord, that when we go out tomorrow, you’ll permit me to get above a trot?”
The subtle smile that played about his lips did quite peculiar things to her nerves. “I wouldn’t suggest you reach for the whip just yet, my dear.”
“Well! That seemed a most successful outing.” Henrietta turned from the window high above the drive, havingwatched her stepson and niece until they’d disappeared into the hall below.
“That’s as may be.” Trant continued to fold linens, laying them neatly on the bed. “But I’d reserve judgement if I was you. Early days yet to read anything into things like simple drives in the countryside.”
“Phooh!” Henrietta waved the objection aside. “Ruthven rarely drives ladies—let alone lets them drive him. Of course it means something.”
Trant merely sniffed.
“It means,” Henrietta went on, “that our plan has real promise. We must ensure they spend as much time in each other’s company as possible—with as little distraction as we can manage.”
“You’re planning on encouraging them to be alone?” Trant voiced her query with a suitably hesitant air.
Henrietta snorted. “Antonia is twenty-four, after all—hardly a green girl. And whatever Ruthven’s reputation, he has never, to my certain knowledge, been accused of seducing innocents.”
Trant shrugged, unwilling to risk
Philip’s deep rumbling laughter had her setting her teeth.
“Oh, well done!” he eventually said. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
Antonia glared at him, then clicked the reins, setting the horses to a definite trot.
Philip straightened his lips. “Rest assured that my standing with the Master is sufficient that such a request will be interpreted in the most favourable light.”
The glance Antonia threw him held enough lingering suspicion to make him narrow his eyes. “I do not, dear Antonia, have any reputation for corrupting the innocent.”
She had, he noted, sufficient grace to blush.
“Very well.” Antonia nodded but kept her gaze locked on the leader. “I’ll mention the matter to Geoffrey.”
“No—leave that to me. He’ll be more receptive to the idea if I suggest it.”
Antonia knew her brother well enough not to argue. Head high, she turned the horses for home, determinedly disregarding the inward flutter Philip had managed to evoke.
After studying her profile, Philip said no more until she pulled the horses up before the front steps. Descending, he strolled leisurely around to come up beside her, meeting herwatchful, slightly wary gaze with open appreciation. “A commendable first outing. To my mind, you’re still holding them a little tight in the curves but that judgement will come with practice.”
Before she could reply, he twitched the reins from her hands and tossed them to the groom who had come running from the stables. While the movement had her distracted, he closed his hands about her waist, well aware of the tension that gripped her as he lifted her down.
“You’ll be pleased to know,” he glibly stated, holding her before him and gazing down into suddenly wide eyes, “that I’m completely satisfied that your peculiar ability to communicate with the equine species operates even when you’re not perched upon their backs.”
Antonia continued to stare at him blankly. Reluctantly, Philip released her.
“You—” Antonia blinked wildly. It was an effort to summon not only her voice but the indignation she felt sure she should feel. Breathless, she continued, “Do you mean to say that today was a…a test? ”
Philip smiled condescendingly. “My dear Antonia, I know of your talents—it seemed rational to test them. Now I know they’re sound, there seems little doubt you’ll prove a star pupil.”
Antonia blinked again—and wished there was some phrase in his speech to which she could take exception. In the end, she drew herself up and fixed him with a direct and openly challenging stare. “I assume, my lord, that when we go out tomorrow, you’ll permit me to get above a trot?”
The subtle smile that played about his lips did quite peculiar things to her nerves. “I wouldn’t suggest you reach for the whip just yet, my dear.”
“Well! That seemed a most successful outing.” Henrietta turned from the window high above the drive, havingwatched her stepson and niece until they’d disappeared into the hall below.
“That’s as may be.” Trant continued to fold linens, laying them neatly on the bed. “But I’d reserve judgement if I was you. Early days yet to read anything into things like simple drives in the countryside.”
“Phooh!” Henrietta waved the objection aside. “Ruthven rarely drives ladies—let alone lets them drive him. Of course it means something.”
Trant merely sniffed.
“It means,” Henrietta went on, “that our plan has real promise. We must ensure they spend as much time in each other’s company as possible—with as little distraction as we can manage.”
“You’re planning on encouraging them to be alone?” Trant voiced her query with a suitably hesitant air.
Henrietta snorted. “Antonia is twenty-four, after all—hardly a green girl. And whatever Ruthven’s reputation, he has never, to my certain knowledge, been accused of seducing innocents.”
Trant shrugged, unwilling to risk
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