Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,5

And you are the Earl of...Butter?”

“My father is the Earl of Beaufort.”

“A pleasure to meet you, my lord.” She gave another sweeping curtsy, but he still did not smile.

“I am not a lord. I’m a younger brother, simply Mister Pope.”

“I see. And you live at Wentmore?”

“I do, and this is my garden.”

“Well, I must commend you on it, sir. I have never seen such a wild and unruly place. I quite adore it. I can see we must be kindred spirits as Mr. Higginbotham often says disruption and disorder follow me wherever I go. But I do so enjoy a mess and a jumble. It makes life more adventurous; don’t you think?”

“No.”

“But it does! Because when everything is a jumble you never know what you will find. Perhaps you will lift a pot and find a hat you haven’t worn in a week or move a stack of books and discover your favorite brooch had been hiding just there. Oh, but I see you scowling and imagine you must envision this mess is one of filth. Not at all. I am very clean. I daresay I dust and sweep as much as the next person, but I have never subscribed to the notion that everything has a place and a place for everything. Why must everything—”

“Miss Howard, was it?” he interrupted.

“Yes. Have I gone on too long?”

“Yes. Is there any chance you might go on about your way at some point before dark?”

She looked up at the sky. Through the canopy of multi-colored leaves, she could still see patches of blue. She judged it not even half past two. Plenty of time before dark. She elected not to point this out, though, as she did not think he would appreciate the observation. Mr. Higginbotham often told her that she should control her tongue and not chatter so much.

“I will, of course, be happy to go on about my way as I have wandered quite a distance from Milcroft.” This was not intentional, of course. She had only intended to take a brief stroll and enjoy the mild weather and sunshine. But as usual, her intentions somehow went awry and she’d ended up miles from home, conversing with the son of an earl. “But I cannot leave you stranded here.”

“I am not stranded.”

She glanced down at the mud. “Are you certain?”

There was that scowl again. She wondered if he had practiced it in the mirror. It was quite effective. “Of course, I am certain.”

“From where I stand, you seem rather stuck. I could—”

“I said I do not need assistance.”

She crossed her arms. “All right then.”

“Good. Then go on your way.”

“Not just yet,” she said. “I want to see how you go about extricating yourself. Purely for educational purposes,” she added quickly when she saw the storm clouds forming on his face again. “I myself have been stuck any number of times after a heavy rain, and I freely admit I could use an effective method of escape.”

The earl’s son pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose as though it pained him. “Miss Howard, I would rather not do this in front of an audience.”

He wouldn’t say such a thing if he was confident in his ability to navigate the muck without falling face first. Men were so confounding. Why would he not just allow her to help him? She supposed it was an issue of pride, in which case, she had to turn the tables so he could protect that pride.

“Sir, I have a confession to make,” she said, trying to sound as helpless as possible. His brow lowered, and she realized she might have overdone it just a tad. “I cannot find my way out of your garden. I am quite lost and need you to help guide me.” She managed to keep from laughing as she spoke and hoped he did not see the way her lips curved. The idea of being lost in this place was ludicrous. She had only arrived in Milcroft two months ago, but she had been here half a dozen times. Even if she had been lost, she would not have minded. She would have enjoyed the adventure of finding her way out.

The earl’s son stood still for a long moment, obviously thinking about what she’d said. “Fine. I’ll help you. Just give me a moment.” He looked toward the brook and then away, twisting his body and seeming to gauge his footing. Pru had an idea of how he might extract