Beyond Innocence by Emma Holly Page B

their gloves. Florence had the awful feeling she'd met them on one of her calls. The Misses Wainwright, she believed, whose mama had asked so many pointed questions about Freddie and his brother. The woman had been most encroaching and Florence had thought perhaps it was her nose Aunt Hypatia meant to put out of joint by launching her.
    Florence certainly hadn't helped that ambition today. They, too, cantered off before she could decide whether she ought to nod.
    The only saving grace was that Freddie hadn't seen them cut her.
    "Don't mind Edward," he said, giving her horse's withers a soothing pat. "God love him, but he's moody."
    "He's right," she said, every part of her aquiver. "My failings as a horsewoman are undeniable."
    "Pooh." Freddie waved the suggestion away. "Got as fine a seat as anyone. Not your fault Edward chose a horse with a fancy for his."
    Her heart picked up strangely at his words. "Edward chose my horse?"
    "Didn't he just! Wouldn't trust the job to anyone else. Drove the man at Tattersall's batty. Nothing too slow, he says, but nothing too fast and, no, that one ain't near pretty enough. And what does he get for his pains but this lovelorn creature?"
    The mare whickered as if she took offense. Most of Florence 's hurt was lost in the laugh she and Freddie shared. Not all of it, though.
    Lord Greystowe's disapproval had a powerful sting.
    * * *
    Edward rode fullout until he hit the quiet of
Kensington
Gardens
. Up till then, the necessity of dodging phaetons and buggies had kept his mind from the brand Miss Fairleigh's palm had seared onto his thigh. The girl was too innocent for her own good. Too innocent for his good.
    With a muttered curse, he dismounted beneath the willows that lined the Long Water's banks. His lingering erection made him awkward but he ignored it. He was used to it by now, or should have been. He had only to think of the girl and his sex began to fill. Worse, he was beginning to like her. Most girls in her position would have been grasp ing or sly, but she was an amiable little thing, and so tempting to tease. A hundred times a day he thought of some quip to make her blush, then had to remind himself
that charming her was Freddie's business. Sighing, he removed his hat and raked his sweaty hair back from his brow. A heron stalked the placid lake before him, its stately progress canning his disordered nerves. As if to remind him how hard he'd been working, Samson blew impatiently in his ear.
    "Yes," said Edward, stroking the horse's lathered nose. "You're a good fellow."
    A better fellow than his master. Samson hadn't lost control when that mare rubbed up against him. Nor was Samson contemplating another visit to Cumberland Terrace. Three times this week that made, with each encounter more frenzied than the last. Imogene was cooing.
    He shook his head in disgust and opened his collar to the breeze. He couldn't keep exorcizing his lust for his brother's intended with his mistress. Even if Imogene didn't know, it wasn't right. No, he had to wrestle this demon to ground himself . Florence wasn't for him. Florence was for Freddie. And they were getting on famously. Per instructions, Freddie was giving a fair imitation of an increasingly besotted man. Nor did his interest seem feigned. He was fond of the girl, genuinely fond. He repeated things she'd said, planned excursions for her pleasure, and, as far as Edward could see, enjoyed their time together.
    Just the other day, he told Edward how she'd charmed the duke of Devonshire 's horse. "Silly beast tried to eat the girl's hat," he'd laughed. "You know what she said ? ' Why, your Grace. I'd no idea that
hat had such good straw.' That shows pluck, Edward. Pluck. Especially for a girl who'd jump at her
own shadow." Freddie was proud of her, as a man should be proud of his future wife. All in all,
Edward's plan could not have been progressing better.
    If he hadn't been so attracted to her himself, he was certain he would have been