Promise of Pleasure by Cheryl Holt Page B

again.”
    “You can join me. We’ll retire to Town and scandalize everyone by living alone and together.”
    “We’ll be society matrons, and we’ll surround ourselves with artists and actors. We’ll have risque romances and cultivate disreputable companions.”
    Cassandra snorted. “You’ve been out in the sun too long.”
    They strolled on in a companionable silence, when suddenly, Cassandra halted.
    “What is it?” Mary asked.
    “Lord Redvers is on the terrace. He’s watching us.”
    Mary glanced up to see him leaned on the balustrade, his pompous smirk clearly visible. She wouldn’t be able to get in the house without walking right by him.
    “Oh, joy,” Mary grumbled.
    “He’s smug as a king, surveying his minions.”
    Cassandra drew away and went in the opposite direction.
    “Where are you going?” Mary inquired.
    “My mood is already extremely foul. I’d rather not exacerbate it by speaking with him. I’ll go around to the front.”
    She hurried away; Mary would have to run to catch up with her. She peered over at Redvers, who continued to watch her.
    He raised an imperious brow, indicating that he was aware of why Cassandra had fled. He seemed humored by her dislike and was daring Mary to react in the same rude fashion, but she wasn’t scared of him. And she wasn’t about to flit off like a coward.
    She braced and proceeded toward him, determined to pass by without incident.
    “Hello, Mary,” he said as she climbed the steps.
    “It’s Miss Barnes to you.”
    “You’re cutting flowers?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I enjoy it. Why would you suppose?”
    “Your basket looks heavy. Let me help you.”
    “No, thank you.”
    Despite her protest, he reached to take it, but she wouldn’t release it, and they engaged in a brief tug-of-war. He won, but was gracious about it.
    He draped the handle over his arm and gestured to the door.
    “Where to?” he queried.
    “The kitchen.”
    “Lead on.”
    “Don’t you have better things to do than harass me?”
    “No, actually, I don’t.”
    Hoping to shoo him away, she dawdled, scowling, but it had no effect, so she spun and went inside, keeping on to the rear of the house, then down the stairs. He followed without complaint or snide comment.
    As they entered the large room, it was empty and quiet, and she cursed her luck. Usually, the area was bustling with activity. Where was everybody?
    He set the basket on the table, and with his task accomplished, she expected him to leave her in peace, but he didn’t. He pulled out a chair and sat down.
    “What are you doing?” she grouched.
    “Entertaining myself.”
    “At my expense. Why?”
    “I’m bored, and you amuse me.”
    “Couldn’t you find someone else to annoy?”
    “I could, but it’s more fun to pester you. You get so flustered.”
    Her cheeks reddened. He was flirting with her again, and she didn’t know what to make of it. She wanted to order him out, but she was flattered by his attention.
    Was she mad?
    He’d humiliated her, had caused her to lose her temper and behave like a shrew in front of her family. She was still awaiting Victoria’s punishment for the episode, yet she was pathetically eager to fraternize with him as if nothing unpleasant had occurred.
    She ignored him and went about her business, quickly snip-ping the stems on the roses and arranging them in three colorful bouquets. He observed, not speaking, and it was nerve-wracking to have him study her so closely.
    Why are you staring? she almost demanded, but she didn’t.
    She pretended he wasn’t there, filling vases, then picking them up to carry upstairs. She could have summoned a footman to do it for her, but they had so many other chores that she hated to bother them.
    As she juggled the load, he leapt to his feet and took the vases from her. She frowned, her consternation clear.
    “Why are you being courteous to me?”
    “Can’t I act like a gentleman?”
    “I didn’t think you knew