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things I must do."
"I think it would be best if we were seen together soon. Come riding
with me."
"Riding?" She started.
"Yes--on a horse? I remember you loved to ride." He was bringing up
the past again. She looked away from him.
"I have no horse in London.
And I have ridden very little for years. " Marcus had forbidden her to
ride. And after his death she had lost interest, instead preferring
long, solitary walks.
"Then come driving with me."
Why was he so persistent? The thought of sitting next to him in a
carriage was unnerving.
"I don't think it would be such a good idea."
His brows snapped together.
"I think it would be. What better way for society to see us
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together?"
"I..." She bit her lip. Who knew what speculations would arise from
that? But he looked so determined, she found herself unable to think
of a polite way of refusing.
"And think of your niece and Lady Dunford," he added softly.
"You're not playing fair."
"No. I warned you, I never do." He stepped closer, and she backed up
against the sofa.
"Come, Claire, will it be so bad?" He was too close. She was aware of
his scent, a mixture of sandalwood and maleness, of how broad his
shoulders were under the fine cloth of his coat. And his strong
cheekbones and well-formed mouth.
"I ... I don't know."
"It won't be." His eyes seemed to change as they moved over her
face.
Then his hand touched her cheek almost as if he couldn't help
himself.
"You are even more lovely than I remembered."
Her blood pounded in her ears and she felt dizzy at his touch. Her
heart pounded in panic.
"Please don't!"
He stared at her, then his expression changed.
"Claire, what is it?"
"You're ... you're too close."
"Did you think I would hurt you?"
She shook her head.
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"I ... I don't like anyone too close to me."
Confused and ashamed, she looked away. For a moment, she'd felt the
same stunned panic Marcus had aroused in her when he'd touched her
face
in that same way.
"Claire..." he began. She looked up at him, afraid to see the
contempt in his eyes. Instead, she saw a peculiar anger.
The door opened behind them. Startled, she looked around. Harry
entered. Then he stopped, one brow cocked.
"Still armed, are you?"
"No." Rotham's voice was curt.
"I want Claire to drive with me today."
"Indeed." Harry's eyes went to Claire's face. He looked faintly
amused.
"I fear you are out of luck, then. She has already promised to drive
with me."
Claire could scarcely look at Rotham, certain he would question the
truth of Harry's statement.
He didn't. He gave her a hard look, then his lip curled.
"Very well.
Perhaps another time? I trust you will not always be occupied? "
"I--I ... no," Claire stammered. He paused, then briefly raised her
hand to his lips. And then he was gone.
She should have felt relieved. Instead, she felt horribly
uncomfortable. She looked up at Harry to find a slight smile on his
face.
"You looked so desperate, I thought I must come to your rescue.
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I trust you really did not wish to drive with Jack? "
"No, of course not." But she wondered if that was really the truth.
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Chapter Four
Q^r^s^Q
Claire picked up her gloves from her dressing-table and wondered why
she felt so apprehensive about driving with Harry. There was no reason
to be; she'd known him before she could walk. His family's estate
marched next to her family's. He had always been like another brother,
closer to her than Edward had ever been.
But her apprehension was not really due to Harry at all, but to Jack.
Lord Rotham, she corrected herself. She bit her lip. She suspected he
knew very well she had never agreed to drive with Harry before this
morning. And he'd been extremely displeased. Which shouldn't matter a
whit to her. He'd caused her more than a little displeasure ever since
she met him. It was only that she had always quailed under
displeasure, her brother had made life uncomfortable when she crossed
him, and, with Marcus, the consequences had been devastating. And then
there was her reaction to his touch. Her cheeks burned whenever she
thought of it. But Jack was not like Marcus; there were no cruel
words, no brutal kisses. He had stopped as soon as he'd seen the fear
in her face and said he would not hurt her. And she had believed
him.
Her apprehension returned when they entered Hyde Park in Harry's
phaeton. She had never been to the park during the fashionable hour
and was astounded at the crush of people, horses and carriages. Most [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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