stop.
The front door opened abruptly to Richard Marksley.
Hallie could feel some force in him of anger or impatience. That consciousness made her tremble all the
more.
“Ladies” Though his dark gaze revealed little, Hallie
had the distinct impression that he had overheard them.
“Are you ready to set out?”
“Thank you, Mr. Marksley. We are indeed.”
Millicent stalked on through the door, her short, stout
figure squeezed into an unflattering patterned muslin.
Hallie glanced up at Richard Marksley’s face, to find
him coldly eyeing Millicent Binkin’s retreating back.
“I believe you are unlucky in your relations,” he said,
for her ears alone, and Hallie again suspected he had heard that conversation. Though he continued to look
grim, he offered her his arm. “Shall we attempt once
more to make the best of things?”
“I … prefer to stay in this afternoon”
One dark eyebrow arched.
“Never tell me you are a coward, m’dear. Are you as
averse to high-steppers and speed as I suspect your
cousin to be?”
Hallie, still shaky, let her hand seek his sleeve. She
was grateful for his support. And she was grateful for
something more. It pleased her to think he could share
her dislike for Millicent Binkin. They were partners in
that, if in nothing else.
In the drive, Jeremy was just helping Millicent into
the back of the barouche, an exercise in agility that displayed neither to graceful advantage. As only Jeremy’s
horse stood saddled nearby, Hallie surmised that
Richard Marksley intended to drive.
“I thought you might choose to ride up with me,” he
said. “The Earl’s team is spirited but responsive. If you
are so inclined, you might like a turn at the ribbons.”
Hallie readily agreed to sit forward with him, something she would have preferred over Millicent’s company in any event. As Marksley took her hand to help
her up, Hallie felt the warmth of his own, even through
their gloves. She bit her lower lip as she concentrated
on her footing.
“Miss Ashton is a remarkable hand,” Millicent supplied unbidden. “And she has been riding from the time
she could walk. She is esteemed quite a horsewoman”
“Indeed?” Marksley murmured. Millicent’s isolation
in back had been intended. At the moment, Hallie
wished her cousin further-somewhere near the ends
of the earth.
As Marksley took his seat beside her, Hallie realized
she was holding her breath. She willed herself to
breathe easily, and glanced over at Jeremy.
“You prefer the saddle, Lord Jeremy?”
“If I am not invited to drive, Miss Harriet. I suspect
Richard would be less indulgent were I his passenger.”
“Only too correct, Jeremy. You would have Penham’s
cattle in the ditch before permitting another vehicle by
you.”
“Oh come, Richard. I am not that demonic. And the
traffic out here in the country is nothing to speak of.”
“Truly, Jeremy? And what would you call that lumbering contraption ahead of us?”
Jeremy made play of peering at a monstrous hay cart
in the lane beyond the gates.
“Demme, if it ain’t a thatched cottage. Well,
Richard, if you aim to amble along behind that all
afternoon, you may drive with my blessing.” Jeremy
dropped back to engage Millicent politely in some
tedious twaddle about the countryside.
The carriage easily passed the hay cart and moved
beyond neatly scythed fields and the occasional pasture
of sheep. The sun was bright, the afternoon unexpectedly balmy.
Hallie, conscious that she had much to say but little
inclination to speak, concentrated on watching the horses and Marksley’s capable hands on the reins. At
times her attention strayed to his profile. He had wellcast features, a firm jaw, a fine nose. Though she decided he could not claim to be as gorgeous as his celebrated cousin, he had a manly refinement that was attractive. Combined with the confidence that seemed characteristic, he was a compelling gentleman. He had to be
The front door opened abruptly to Richard Marksley.
Hallie could feel some force in him of anger or impatience. That consciousness made her tremble all the
more.
“Ladies” Though his dark gaze revealed little, Hallie
had the distinct impression that he had overheard them.
“Are you ready to set out?”
“Thank you, Mr. Marksley. We are indeed.”
Millicent stalked on through the door, her short, stout
figure squeezed into an unflattering patterned muslin.
Hallie glanced up at Richard Marksley’s face, to find
him coldly eyeing Millicent Binkin’s retreating back.
“I believe you are unlucky in your relations,” he said,
for her ears alone, and Hallie again suspected he had heard that conversation. Though he continued to look
grim, he offered her his arm. “Shall we attempt once
more to make the best of things?”
“I … prefer to stay in this afternoon”
One dark eyebrow arched.
“Never tell me you are a coward, m’dear. Are you as
averse to high-steppers and speed as I suspect your
cousin to be?”
Hallie, still shaky, let her hand seek his sleeve. She
was grateful for his support. And she was grateful for
something more. It pleased her to think he could share
her dislike for Millicent Binkin. They were partners in
that, if in nothing else.
In the drive, Jeremy was just helping Millicent into
the back of the barouche, an exercise in agility that displayed neither to graceful advantage. As only Jeremy’s
horse stood saddled nearby, Hallie surmised that
Richard Marksley intended to drive.
“I thought you might choose to ride up with me,” he
said. “The Earl’s team is spirited but responsive. If you
are so inclined, you might like a turn at the ribbons.”
Hallie readily agreed to sit forward with him, something she would have preferred over Millicent’s company in any event. As Marksley took her hand to help
her up, Hallie felt the warmth of his own, even through
their gloves. She bit her lower lip as she concentrated
on her footing.
“Miss Ashton is a remarkable hand,” Millicent supplied unbidden. “And she has been riding from the time
she could walk. She is esteemed quite a horsewoman”
“Indeed?” Marksley murmured. Millicent’s isolation
in back had been intended. At the moment, Hallie
wished her cousin further-somewhere near the ends
of the earth.
As Marksley took his seat beside her, Hallie realized
she was holding her breath. She willed herself to
breathe easily, and glanced over at Jeremy.
“You prefer the saddle, Lord Jeremy?”
“If I am not invited to drive, Miss Harriet. I suspect
Richard would be less indulgent were I his passenger.”
“Only too correct, Jeremy. You would have Penham’s
cattle in the ditch before permitting another vehicle by
you.”
“Oh come, Richard. I am not that demonic. And the
traffic out here in the country is nothing to speak of.”
“Truly, Jeremy? And what would you call that lumbering contraption ahead of us?”
Jeremy made play of peering at a monstrous hay cart
in the lane beyond the gates.
“Demme, if it ain’t a thatched cottage. Well,
Richard, if you aim to amble along behind that all
afternoon, you may drive with my blessing.” Jeremy
dropped back to engage Millicent politely in some
tedious twaddle about the countryside.
The carriage easily passed the hay cart and moved
beyond neatly scythed fields and the occasional pasture
of sheep. The sun was bright, the afternoon unexpectedly balmy.
Hallie, conscious that she had much to say but little
inclination to speak, concentrated on watching the horses and Marksley’s capable hands on the reins. At
times her attention strayed to his profile. He had wellcast features, a firm jaw, a fine nose. Though she decided he could not claim to be as gorgeous as his celebrated cousin, he had a manly refinement that was attractive. Combined with the confidence that seemed characteristic, he was a compelling gentleman. He had to be
Similar Books
