Edenbrooke (15 page)

I glanced over my shoulder. The groom was resting in the shade of another tree, on the other side of the knoll, with his back to us.

It was too tempting to resist. I managed to keep my skirt tucked modestly in place while lying down. Philip’s jacket smelled like the woods on a summer day mixed with some other pleasant masculine scent and made a very nice pillow. I curled onto my side and Philip stretched out next to me, at what I thought was a proper distance, his arm under his head, looking out at the view. The warm silence settled into me, soothing me to my bones. I think I was smiling when I fell asleep.

I couldn’t have slept very long. I awoke to a soft breeze across my skin and the tickle of grass along my arm. I opened my eyes and looked straight into Philip’s. He was facing me, reclined on his elbow, and watching me with a thoughtful expression. I wondered how long he had been watching me like that. A drowsy thought flitted through my mind that I liked seeing him in his shirt and waistcoat. He seemed more casual, more familiar, more like how I thought of him—comfortable.

“How was your nap?” he asked.

“Very nice, thank you.” I smiled contentedly.

A breeze blew under the tree, teasing a lock of my hair loose so that it escaped its twist and flew across my face. Before I could move, Philip caught the lock of hair and tucked it behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek and neck in a surprisingly intimate gesture. My heart skittered at his touch, a blush rising to my cheeks. His gaze grew into something I had never seen before. More than warm, different than serious—it was intimate, gentle, and significant. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before.

I felt completely unnerved and deeply confused, both by Philip’s actions and by my reaction to him. I was also keenly aware of the very inappropriate position I was in, lying down less than an arm’s
 
length away from a man. What had seemed harmless and innocent a moment before now felt almost scandalous.

I sat up and frowned at the grass, growing more self-conscious by the second. I could feel Philip’s gaze on my face as he sat up next to me, and I blushed hotter with the awkwardness of the moment. I didn’t know what to say or do. I was beyond inept. This was excruciating.

Suddenly Philip said in a light tone, “You snore, you know.”

I looked up sharply and gasped. “I do not!”

“You do.” He had that familiar teasing glint in his eyes.

“I have never been told that I snore. I am sure you’re mistaken.”

He grinned. “You snore like a big, fat man.”

A laugh burst from me. I was sure he was lying. “Stop it,” I said, swatting at his shoulder. “You are so inappropriate. What gentleman tells a lady that she snores?”

“What lady falls asleep in a gentleman’s presence?” He lifted an eyebrow and looked at me as if I had done something scandalous.

I felt my blush flare up again. “You said it was alright,” I said defensively.

He chuckled. “No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

I pressed my lips together to keep myself from smiling and shot him a dark look. He grinned wickedly. To my astonishment, I suddenly had the strongest urge to kiss those grinning lips, wicked or not.

I looked down, flustered, and so surprised with myself that I couldn’t gather my wits. I had never wanted to kiss a man before—at least, not a specific man. I picked up Philip’s jacket, stood, and brushed the grass off of it.

“Thank you for the pillow,” I said politely, handing it to him as he stood.

“You are welcome to borrow my pillow any time,” he said with such a rakish glint in his eyes that I thought I should slap him for it.

Instead I glared at him, hands on hips. “Philip Wyndham! That is the most inappropriate thing I have ever heard, and if your mother were here she would give you the scolding of your life! In fact, I have half a mind to go tell her what an atrocious, incorrigible, scandalous tease she has raised.”

He didn’t look the least bit chagrined. He just smiled and said, “If my mother were here I wouldn’t have said it. That was for your ears only.” And then he winked.

I stared at him in disbelief. There was no stopping him. He had no limits to how far he would go with his outrageous flirting.

“Ugh!” I clenched my fists and stomped my foot in frustration.

His head tilted to one side; his lips twitched. “Did you just
stomp your foot
?”

I pressed my lips together tightly, but the amusement in his eyes was too much. A little laugh escaped me, and then his shoulders were shaking, and suddenly we were both laughing like we had that first night at the inn. I laughed until my throat ached.

“Well, I’m glad to see you took my advice about the stomping.” He chuckled. “Although it really didn’t help.”

“You are the most infuriating man I have ever known,” I told him, and I meant it.

But he just smiled. Of course. Nothing penetrated him when he was in this mood. “You are so enchanting when you insult me,” he said.

I abruptly turned and walked to the horses.

What a scandalous, inappropriate, odious flirt! He would never leave me alone. He would never just be my friend. He always had to make me feel childish and awkward with his outrageous flirting! I felt churned up inside and embarrassed for a lot of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I had thought about kissing that scandalous, inappropriate, odious flirt.

Well, I would just ride off and show him what a good seat I had and that I didn’t need his company
or
his flirting
or
his horrid teasing. I waved off the groom as he hurried toward me. I did not need any man’s assistance. I untied Meg and then looked at the stirrups. I had never mounted her without a mounting block, and I could see immediately that I wouldn’t be able to. The lowest stirrup hung level with my shoulders.

I heard Philip approach and turned reluctantly to him, although I didn’t look at his face. His cravat was closer to my eye level and was a good substitute when I didn’t want to meet his eyes.

“It looks like I’ll need a leg up,” I muttered, mad that I couldn’t ride off dramatically on my own like I had planned.

He stepped right up to me, but instead of cupping his hands into a step for me, he wrapped his hands around my waist. I caught my breath and looked up at him, surprised by how my heart thumped around in my chest and how my skin tingled under his strong hands. His eyes were such a deep blue—almost navy. He looked at me as softly as a caress.

“I’ll help you up if you’ll forgive me for my
horrid teasing.
” He spoke in a soft voice, a regretful twist to his smile. “It’s no excuse, but I have always found it extremely difficult to behave as I ought to when I’m with you, Marianne.”

I felt oddly breathless, and suddenly all of my anger drained from me, leaving me lightheaded. “Are you saying I bring out the worst in you?” I asked, smiling, ready to be charmed.

He took a breath, held it, and I could almost see the words hanging off the edge of his lips. But then, for the second time today, I saw a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. When he released his breath, it sounded like a sigh.

“Something like that,” he murmured. I wondered what he had really wanted to say.

Then he lifted me as easily as if I were a small child and set me gently on my saddle. I was so unnerved by the interaction that I sat in a daze for a minute before realizing that he had mounted his horse and was waiting for me.

When I caught up with him, he said, “Don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone that you snore.” Then he grinned at me and I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it would just encourage him to behave in his atrocious way in the future, but the laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop myself. He looked very satisfied and challenged me to a race.

He won, of course. He always won.

Chapter 13

To make good on my resolution to learn from other elegant ladies, I joined Lady Caroline in the drawing room the next morning, even though it went against my natural inclinations. I longed for a brisk walk through the woods. Or a ride. Anything but being confined to this chair and this room and the polite conversation of polite women. But this sacrifice was one of the changes I was making in order to improve myself. Lady Caroline looked pleased when I joined her.

The third visitors of the day were Mrs. Fairhurst and her daughter, Miss Grace, who lived just three miles away. Mrs. Fairhurst entered the room grandly, seeming to dominate the elegant apartment with her bold, sweeping gaze and the lofty tilt of her head. I recognized her sort from other ladies I had met in Bath. She was well dressed but looked as if she were trying too hard to appear elegant. Her lace was a bit too elaborate, her laugh a bit too shrill, her bearing a bit too dignified. She was moving up in the world—probably the daughter of a wealthy tradesman. I knew I wouldn’t like her as soon as she entered the room.

Miss Grace looked just like her name. She was tall and willowy with a long neck, rich brown curls, and large green eyes. She walked sedately with a dignified air and greeted me in a soft, cultured voice without any undue emotion. Noting her creamy white skin, I was certain she never went outside without a bonnet, something which I had been guilty of many times. I was also fairly certain she was not the type to snort when she laughed. Here was a clearly wealthy, elegant, accomplished young lady—the very epitome of what my grandmother would have me become—and I was struck with a pang of inferiority.

Mrs. Fairhurst turned her attention to me as Lady Caroline served tea.

“Have you traveled much, Miss Daventry?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me over her teacup.

“No, not much.”

“Have you ever been to London?”

“No,” I answered, feeling as if a trap was being set for me.

She looked shocked in an exaggerated way, opening her eyes wide while looking at Miss Grace, who sat next to me. “Never been to London? What a pity. You must have heard how admired Grace was last season. She was one of the most courted ladies in Town. Was she not, Lady Caroline?”

Lady Caroline smiled politely. “Was she?”

“Why, of course she was! You must remember. Where is Sir Philip? He can tell you. He danced with Grace several times himself, did he not?”

Grace nodded, and Mrs. Fairhurst went on, but I stopped paying attention. My mind had caught on one word, and I couldn’t move my thoughts beyond it. She had called him
Sir
Philip. But he was not the eldest son; Charles was. Charles had the title. Not Philip. Why did Lady Caroline not correct her?

Mrs. Fairhurst laughed through her nose. “Miss Daventry, I feel so sorry for you, having never been to London. You really must see a little more of the world if you hope to become the sort of interesting lady that would attract a husband.”

I knew I wouldn’t like this woman. I debated what I could say to her to put her in her place, and then decided that I probably couldn’t say anything since she was Lady Caroline’s guest. So I lowered my eyes, took a sip of my bitter tea, and wondered what in the world she had meant by calling him
Sir
Philip.

Lady Caroline cleared her throat. “Mrs. Fairhurst, I have heard you are making some improvements on your house.”

“Oh, yes, we certainly are.” She began reciting a loud, detailed description of her estate while Lady Caroline listened with an air of polite forbearance.

Under the cover of her mother’s talking, Miss Grace turned to me. Her eyes were kind and she smiled hesitantly. “I was looking forward to meeting you. I hope we can be friends.”

I nearly choked on my tea. I studied her before answering, but found nothing but innocence in her eyes.

“I should like that,” I said. I took a deep breath. Why was it so stuffy in here? Had someone lit the fire? I cleared my throat. “I heard your mother refer to Sir Philip. But is she not mistaken? Isn’t Sir Charles the eldest?”

She looked surprised. “Well, yes, of course. But he died five years ago.”

Chapter 14

My thoughts reeled. I felt wholly incapable of comprehending what had just been revealed to me. Miss Grace glanced at her mother, who was still talking loudly enough to drown out our conversation.

“Tell me—how do you like it here?” she asked in a low voice.

I forced myself to focus on the elegant young lady next to me. I would think of Philip later. “I like it very well,” I said in a faint voice.

She lowered her voice even further. “I don’t think I could be entirely comfortable here.”

That caught my attention. “Oh?”

“You must know by now what an incorrigible flirt Sir Philip is. He can hardly pass by a lady without paying her a compliment. I know I should not take him seriously, but his manners are so charming that it’s easy to feel flattered. Don’t you agree?”

I knew what she was referring to. He was a flirt. I had known that all along. I nodded weakly.

“My mother says he leaves a trail of blushes in his wake everywhere he goes,” she whispered. “As well as a trail of broken hearts. Of course he
is
the most sought-after bachelor in Town every season.”

I could understand why. He had been attractive before I knew about the title and the estate and the wealth. Now, it made perfect sense to me why he would be the catch of the season.

“I haven’t been hurt by him,” Miss Grace continued, “but I think it has become something of a game with him, to see how many ladies he can make fall in love with him. He is a collector of hearts—hearts he has no interest in keeping.” She glanced down at her tea. “And, of course, so many of them come here, hoping to ensnare him. I think for many of them it is just ambition that motivates them . . .”

She let her voice trail off and looked up at me expectantly. My brow furrowed as I realized what she was hinting at. Did she think that
I
had come here with that intent?

“I must set your mind at ease,” I said. “Lady Caroline invited me, and I had never heard of Sir Philip before I arrived.” In fact, I wanted to add, I had never heard of him before today.