Lady Eve's Indiscretion by Grace Burrowes Page B

sitting nearby and panting mightily.
    â€œYou took me up before you a long time ago,” the child said. “When I was just a baby.”
    â€œYou were not a baby, but it was a long time ago,” Deene replied, his smile tight. “I’m sure your papa would ride out with you if you asked him.”
    A mulish expression blighted otherwise angelic features, giving the girl a resemblance to her uncle. “He will not. Papa is too busy, and he says I can’t have a pony until I speak French and we’re in the country, which won’t be until forever, because the roses aren’t even blooming yet.”
    Deene’s lips flattened, which was a curious reaction to a child’s predictable griping.
    â€œI’ll bet you can draw a very pretty pony, though,” Eve suggested. “One with bows in his mane and even one in his tail.”
    The child shot Eve a frown. “I thought a bow in the tail meant the horse kicked.”
    â€œAt the hunt meet, it can mean that. In your drawing, you can make it just for decoration.”
    The nanny had approached a few feet closer, her expression almost tormented. Clearly, the woman wasn’t used to having her charge plucked from her care. Deene’s glance at the governess was positively venomous, but thankfully aimed over the child’s head.
    â€œCan you play some fetch with me and Charles, Uncle?”
    â€œEve, would you mind?”
    â€œMay I play too?” For some reason, she did not want to leave Deene, the child, and the woman to their own devices.
    â€œOh, please!” Georgina shrieked and clapped her hands together. Marquis took a single step in reaction, which should have sent Eve into a blind panic.
    â€œSettle, Marquis.” The beast flicked an ear at Eve’s voice and held still.
    Deene had only to glance at his tiger, and the boy was up at the horses’ heads while Deene himself helped Eve from the vehicle.
    â€œWe can play catch, all of us,” Georgina caroled, grabbing Eve and Deene by the hand, “and Charles will run mad between us. He loves to run and loves to come to the park. I love to come to the park too, and I think Miss Ingraham does also. She reads lurid novels, though I would never tell Papa.”
    Children were like this. Eve used to volunteer to watch the little ones in the nursery at church, and this startling honesty was something she’d forgotten. She’d been this honest once: I don’t want to pet them, I want to ride them.
    She played catch, berating Deene sorely when he threw the ball too high over her head, tossing it gently to the girl, and keeping an eye on the fretful governess. When even the dog was too tired to play anymore, Deene went down on one knee.
    â€œGive me a hug, Georgie. I must take Lady Eve home now, and if we play any longer, you’ll have to carry Charles back to your house.”
    The girl bundled in close and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s neck. While they embraced, Deene’s hand stroked over the little blond head, the expression in his eyes… bleak.
    He kissed the girl’s cheek, stood, and led the child over to her caretaker. “My thanks for your patience, miss.”
    The woman muttered something too low for Eve to hear, and then Deene was handing Eve up into the curricle. The tiger climbed up behind, and Deene just sat there.
    He did not take up the reins.
    He did not speak.
    â€œDeene?” His face was set in a expression Eve hadn’t seen before—angry and determined, for all she couldn’t say exactly which handsome feature portrayed which emotion, or how.
    â€œLucas?”
    â€œYou’ll have to drive, Evie.”
    She didn’t question him. He was clearly in no state to take the reins. She unwrapped them, took up the contact with each horse’s mouth, glanced back to make sure the tiger was holding on, and gave the command to walk on.
    â€œIs there a reason why you’re off