Worth Any Price by Lisa Kleypas Page B

you’ll fall a-blushing…
    Although all was still and quiet around her, some instinct warned she was no longer alone. Pausing, Lottie lifted her lashes and recoiled as she saw a dark shape right beside her. “Good Lord!” She stumbled backward, and a pair of hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her.
    Sputtering in surprise, Lottie flailed at her captor in a bid for freedom.
    “Easy,” came a masculine voice, rich with laughter. “Easy. It’s me.”
    She gasped and went still, staring up at his dark face. “Lord S-Sydney?”
    “Yes.”
    “You nearly frightened me to death!”
    “Sorry.” He grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
    Lottie laughed and pushed at him, mortified to be caught singing to herself like some half-wit. “How did you find me?”
    “It seems to be a talent of mine.” Sydney released her and leaned one shoulder against the sycamore, his careless smile at variance with his alert gaze.
    Lottie felt for her kerchief, which had been dislodged in the flurry of activity. “I covered my hair—I can’t think how you recognized me.”
    “I know the way you move.”
    She did not reply, experiencing a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty. There was a compliment implicit in the statement. But he was a stranger…he had not known her long enough, nor well enough, to distinguish something so intrinsic and subtle.
    “Did you enjoy the May festivities, my lord?” she asked as she tied the kerchief back into place.
    “I enjoyed watching you.”
    Her eyes narrowed in pretend-menace. “Do you intend to tell anyone that you saw me here?”
    Lord Sydney leaned closer, as if to impart some highly confidential news. “Not if my life depended on it.”
    Smiling, Lottie leaned her shoulder against the tree trunk, mirroring his posture. “Are you going a-maying, like the other young men?”
    “That depends.” A flirtatious gleam entered his eyes. “Are you going to run through the forest in hopes of being captured?”
    “Decidedly not.”
    “Then allow me to escort you back to the house. I shouldn’t like for you to be waylaid by some impassioned village youth.”
    “Oh, I would outrun any of them,” Lottie said confidently. “I know these woods quite well, and I am small enough to dart easily among the trees. No one could catch me.”
    “I could.”
    “A man as large as you? I think not. In these woods, with all the underbrush, you would be as noisy as a rampaging elephant.”
    His body tensed subtly, his appreciation of the impudent challenge almost palpable. “You might be surprised—” he began, and paused as he was distracted by a feminine squeal from somewhere to the left of them, as a village girl was “caught” by a randy young man. A moment of silence, and then a loud moan of pleasure filtered through the trees.
    When Sydney turned back to Lottie, she was gone.
    Laughing inwardly, she slipped through the woods like a wraith, raising her skirts to her knees to keep from being snagged by branches. She maneuvered easily through the maze of trunks and flexible saplings, until finally all was quiet and there was no sign of anyone behind her. Pausing for breath, Lottie glanced over her shoulder. No movement, nothing except for the distant sounds of May Day carousing.
    Either Lord Sydney had decided not to give chase, or he had lost her in mid-pursuit. A triumphant smile curved her lips—she had proved her point. Turning, she continued toward Stony Cross Park—and shrieked in alarm as she walked right into a hard male body.
    She was caught against a deep chest, a pair of powerful arms subduing her easily. It was Lord Sydney, his low laugh tickling her ear. Stunned, she leaned against him, requiring temporary support as she strove to recover her equilibrium.
    “How did you get in front of me?” she asked breathlessly.
    “Flank speed.” His gentle fingers sought to restore her kerchief, but it slid from her fine, slippery hair,