“I thought you knew your destination,” Crispin said a bit crossly. “Why did we not alight there? Instead here we are, almost fifteen minutes of walking past shops and you peering inside a few without going in.”
“This is part of the art of shopping, my dear brother,” she said with a light laugh. “And your gallantry in escorting me will surely be repaid!”
He groused a bit more, but she could tell he did it with fond affection.
Her fingers tightened reflexively on his lower arm. “I would…I would like to ask you a question.”
Crispin cast her a curious glance. “This must be dire. You look like you swallowed a fish that is stuck in your throat. Spit it out.”
Maryann frowned, gathering her thoughts. “I am wondering about pleasure…the kind I believe is supposed to exist between a man and a woman.”
Her brother made a terrible choking, gurgling sound, and even stumbled in his steps. “Why are you asking about this, Maryann?” he demanded with a thunderous expression.
“Because there is no one else I can ask,” she said primly, aghast at her furious blushing.
“The only person you should be addressing such questions to is your husband,” her brother muttered, a red stain on his jaw.
“I might not get married until I am thirty,” she said archly. “Stop being silly. I shan’t do anything with the information.”
“Then why do you want to know?”
“Curiosity.”
He sent her a dubious glare.
“Many ladies have willingly run into ruin. I am wondering if there is an art to seduction.”
“Well, you will not hear it from me.”
She pinched his arm. “I suppose I could ask the Marquess of Rothbury.”
The look her brother gave her was filled with such shocked incredulity, Maryann felt sorry for him.
“You have agitated my nerves most abominably,” he hissed, angered. “This is my fault. I indulged you too much over the years, and I—”
She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “And I love you for it. You do not stifle me but allow me my wings, Crispin.”
He deflated and raked his fingers through his hair. “You are shameless and provoking, that is what you are. It does you no benefit to be incorrigible.”
She gave him an unrepentant grin. “I thought it a part of my charm and—”
Maryann cried out as someone shoved into her from behind and sent her into the path of a carriage, which suddenly seemed to increase its speed. To Maryann’s mortification, it was difficult to find her balance, causing her to tumble for the world to see. Her spectacles fell from her face, and she reached for them before trying to right herself.
“Maryann!”
The earth shook beneath her, and she whipped her head up at Crispin’s frantic and fear-filled scream to see two horses bearing down at her, the coachman cracking a whip to urge them to greater speed.
For one petrifying moment, her limbs remained paralyzed and her heart roared, drowning out sounds and the words shaping her brother’s lips. She struggled to her feet with haste, as harsh hands grabbed her and yanked her forcefully out of harm’s way. The carriage roared past her, crushing her parasol with a sharp crack.
“Goodness,” she cried, terribly shaken. “That coachman has lost his senses.”
Crispin stared after the carriage and then back at her. “They tried to run you over,” he said, his voice heavy with shock. “My God, if I had not seen it I would have disbelieved the tale!”
The hands that ran over her arms shook fiercely.
“I am certain it was an accident,” she tried to reassure him over her pounding heart.
“My Lady,” a gentleman bystander exclaimed, holding on to her elbow and guiding her away from the curb. “You could have been seriously injured or crushed. It is a wonder you are alive. If this man”—he pointed at Crispin—“had not reacted so quickly, I shudder to think of the horror.”
Her brother paled even further, and Maryann worried he might faint. He would never forgive himself for the shame of reacting so in public. “I am sure it wasn’t anything as dire as that. I do thank you for your timely assistance. If you will excuse us, we must be on our way.”
He removed his hat to reveal brown hair streaked with gold and bowed his head. “Sir Robert Whittingham at your service.”
“Thank you, Sir Robert, I shall not forget your kindness.”
All polite sallies extended, Crispin insisted on bundling her back home without procuring the hats, and soon they were back in the carriage headed to