hopelessly uncurled hair, she dislodged a strand and it fell flatly over her eye. Then, with her head held high, Gemma marched from the breakfast room. Her feet twitched with the urge to take flight, but where could young ladies steal off to escape any further notice or embarrassments?
Chapter 5
T he lady had thought he was making light of her.
Given their previous two exchanges, Richard could certainly understand just why Gemma Reed would come to that very opinion. And yet, as he guided his mount over the duke’s rolling property, that very low opinion she carried grated. For that exchange had singularly revealed more of anything real about the lady than any other words she’d uttered.
Until the morning meal, she’d been nothing more than any other lady present, hunting a future-duke and professing love based on flimsy words better reserved for a hound. Then she’d gone on one of her endearing rambles and she’d swiftly become a lady with interests…and what was more, she’d become a lady with an interest in horseflesh.
For all the shock and disgust etched in the faces of the assembled guests, Richard had been…his eye twitched. By God, he’d been captivated by the little minx in that instant. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. Only, the lady had seen him as judgmental as every other member of the peerage present.
And why shouldn’t she? You’ve done nothing but bait and tease her since the moment she stepped into your riding path a day prior.
Guilt needled at him and he urged Warrior onward. He scanned his gaze over the lush, green, rolling countryside. Where would a lady escape? No doubt the last person she cared to see in this moment was him. A memory of her as she’d been, with humiliated hurt blazing in her eyes, caused a knot in his belly. He far preferred the lady snapping and hissing like a cornered cat than the dejected, slumped figure who’d hastily fled the breakfast room.
Richard slowed his mount to a stop and Warrior danced in a small circle. He patted the horse’s damp coat and glanced in the direction of the lake. With a click of his tongue, he wheeled Warrior around and cantered on to the thick copse at the edge of the duke’s property. He guided Warrior to a stop and then, with reins in hand, walked the massive creature over to nearby brush and looped his reins about a thin oak. Patting him once on the withers, he strode over to the copse, and then hesitated.
What was the likelihood the lady was even here? He turned to go when a faint sniffling penetrated the morning quiet. Perhaps it was just the rustling leaves overhead. Or perhaps it was…
Sniff Sniff
That muffled sound of misery cleaved through him. Unhesitant, Richard entered the copse, moving deeper into the densely wooded area and then stopped. Gemma sat atop a boulder with her knees drawn close to her chest. The sight of her tucked against herself, with her shoulders bent, wrenched at something in him. He took a step forward and a branch snapped loudly in the quiet.
Gemma froze and then whipped her head around. “You.”
In the absolute absence of anger or outrage in that tone, he took another step forward. “Me.”
She dropped her legs over the edge of her sitting place and hopped to her feet. “I did not come here to be mocked by you. I have suffered through enough of your company these two days, Mr. Jonas.” A fiery glimmer lit her brown eyes and they sparkled with such spirit, words momentarily left him. She narrowed her gaze. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
And because he really didn’t care to examine why he’d been staring at her and just what she made of that look, Richard touched a hand to his chest. “Richard,” he corrected her.
“I beg your pardon?” Four little creases lined her brow.
“My name is Richard.” It defied propriety, and the cool dislike that had existed since their first meeting, but he wished to hear his name on her lips. He desperately wished to hear her wrap those
Chapter 5
T he lady had thought he was making light of her.
Given their previous two exchanges, Richard could certainly understand just why Gemma Reed would come to that very opinion. And yet, as he guided his mount over the duke’s rolling property, that very low opinion she carried grated. For that exchange had singularly revealed more of anything real about the lady than any other words she’d uttered.
Until the morning meal, she’d been nothing more than any other lady present, hunting a future-duke and professing love based on flimsy words better reserved for a hound. Then she’d gone on one of her endearing rambles and she’d swiftly become a lady with interests…and what was more, she’d become a lady with an interest in horseflesh.
For all the shock and disgust etched in the faces of the assembled guests, Richard had been…his eye twitched. By God, he’d been captivated by the little minx in that instant. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. Only, the lady had seen him as judgmental as every other member of the peerage present.
And why shouldn’t she? You’ve done nothing but bait and tease her since the moment she stepped into your riding path a day prior.
Guilt needled at him and he urged Warrior onward. He scanned his gaze over the lush, green, rolling countryside. Where would a lady escape? No doubt the last person she cared to see in this moment was him. A memory of her as she’d been, with humiliated hurt blazing in her eyes, caused a knot in his belly. He far preferred the lady snapping and hissing like a cornered cat than the dejected, slumped figure who’d hastily fled the breakfast room.
Richard slowed his mount to a stop and Warrior danced in a small circle. He patted the horse’s damp coat and glanced in the direction of the lake. With a click of his tongue, he wheeled Warrior around and cantered on to the thick copse at the edge of the duke’s property. He guided Warrior to a stop and then, with reins in hand, walked the massive creature over to nearby brush and looped his reins about a thin oak. Patting him once on the withers, he strode over to the copse, and then hesitated.
What was the likelihood the lady was even here? He turned to go when a faint sniffling penetrated the morning quiet. Perhaps it was just the rustling leaves overhead. Or perhaps it was…
Sniff Sniff
That muffled sound of misery cleaved through him. Unhesitant, Richard entered the copse, moving deeper into the densely wooded area and then stopped. Gemma sat atop a boulder with her knees drawn close to her chest. The sight of her tucked against herself, with her shoulders bent, wrenched at something in him. He took a step forward and a branch snapped loudly in the quiet.
Gemma froze and then whipped her head around. “You.”
In the absolute absence of anger or outrage in that tone, he took another step forward. “Me.”
She dropped her legs over the edge of her sitting place and hopped to her feet. “I did not come here to be mocked by you. I have suffered through enough of your company these two days, Mr. Jonas.” A fiery glimmer lit her brown eyes and they sparkled with such spirit, words momentarily left him. She narrowed her gaze. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
And because he really didn’t care to examine why he’d been staring at her and just what she made of that look, Richard touched a hand to his chest. “Richard,” he corrected her.
“I beg your pardon?” Four little creases lined her brow.
“My name is Richard.” It defied propriety, and the cool dislike that had existed since their first meeting, but he wished to hear his name on her lips. He desperately wished to hear her wrap those
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