of her hand.
Nor did he want to.
How could he? She looked utterly divine. Like one of the goddesses a temple like this might have been dedicated to—a nymph who currently stood before him in a pique of rage.
Not that she left the decision up to him. She wrenched her fingers free of his grasp and stalked over to Mr. Muggins.
Apparently a wet hound was preferable company.
Well, he would tell her that he’d had other plans for this afternoon. His sights set on finding another lady.
A proper lady. A sensible one.
Might have found her by now if it hadn’t been for Preston and his cork-brained treasure hunt.
Which had left him with the ungodly luck of being paired with Miss Dale.
Miss Dale! The most insensible woman in all of England. Or at the very least, the one who drove him to the edge of madness. Why, he’d nearly kissed her at Preston’s engagement ball, and now he was lost with her in his company.
The woman was determined to lure him into some scandalous mire.
He glanced over at her to see what sort of mischief she was making now—only to find her unpinning her sodden bonnet, which, once freed, she tossed down on the stone bench. Her shawl followed, as did her gloves. Thus divested of her wet outer garments, she paced around the edge of the columns, circling him like a vengeful griffin.
He suspected he was about to be flayed alive. Nor could Tabitha’s mangy beast of a dog be counted on to save him.
“Go ahead,” he told her, bracing himself.
She paused and glanced over at him. “Pardon?”
“Go ahead,” he said, holding out his hands, as if to be locked away.
Miss Dale shook her head. “Whatever do you mean?”
He wasn’t fooled. Hen did this all the time. Lured him into confessing his wrongdoings so she didn’t have to lay them out for him and waste her time listening to him deny them. “Just say it.”
“Say what?” she asked, then resumed her pacing.
Truly, this was becoming more difficult than it needed to be. Besides, her circling was making him dizzy.
“ ‘I told you so.’ ” Whyever couldn’t a woman just come out and say a thing? Rather they had to drag out an accusation, like a painful thorn.
She blinked and gaped at him, as if the realization of what he was getting at finally hit her. Huffing a sigh, she went back to her pacing. “Lord Henry, I have far more important troubles at hand than to waste my time crowing over your wretched sense of direction.”
And with that said, the pacing began anew. This time with a more determined click to her steps.
“Whatever has you in this state?”
She came to a blinding halt. “Crispin, of course!”
What she left out, but truly had no need to say, was, The one we would not have crossed paths with if you had listened to me and taken the correct road.
“Oh, yes, him,” he managed, shuffling his boots a bit. He’d been doing his best to forget their encounter with Lord Dale.
“Yes, him.”
The sarcasm stung, but then he’d lived with Hen all these years not to be a bit immune.
It was what she said next that left him flummoxed.
“He’ll ruin everything!”
Then, much to Henry’s chagrin, she resumed pacing. Did she have to go in a circle? He was going to get nauseous.
But something else struck him. “He’ll ruin everything”?
Henry perked up, feeling the scales of justice tipping back into his favor.
As he’d suspected, the lady had a secret.
He strolled out of her path and sat down on the bench beside her ruined hat, though not too close. The muddled mess of silk was letting off a regular brook of rainwater.
“What will he ruin, Miss Dale?”
She stumbled to a stop and cast a glance over her shoulder at him. No longer the vengeful valkyrie, her eyes widened, then just as quickly narrowed to hide her alarm.
Ah, yes, the lady had a big secret.
“Nothing.”
Yes, he knew that tone as well. When a woman said “nothing,” it usually meant “everything.”
Henry glanced down at the state of his boots and said nonchalantly, “I thought you said this morning that your family approved of your attendance.”
She flinched and put her back to him.
“So they don’t?”
Her shoulders hunched up as if to shield her from his prodding.
He got to his feet. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
She whirled around. “Everyone will now.”
Henry had to admit, he rather admired her plucky defiance—save when it was aimed at him. But her defiance was also entangling