That Would Be a Fairy Tale - By Amanda Grange Page 0,2

least I wasn’t killed.’

‘Four miles an hour isn’t exactly racing,’ he pointed out. ‘In fact, you were going far more quickly than I was. With the reckless way you were rolling down the hill it’s a miracle you didn’t kill us both!’

‘Are you always so infuriating?’ she asked in exasperation, turning to face him.

He smiled, his eyes dancing. ‘So I’ve been told. But I can’t help having a lively sense of the ridiculous.’

‘Ridiculous?’ Cicely’s face took on a deceptively innocent expression. ‘You are saying I look ridiculous?’

Her tone was mild, but he was not deceived and his eyes gleamed with barely-suppressed amusement.

‘Ah! Now you’ve caught me. If I say yes, I confirm you in your belief that I have no manners. And if I say no . . . ’

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

But it was no good. Try as he might he could not help laughing. ‘I’ve already answered one of your questions. Now you answer one of mine. If you weren’t so angry, wouldn’t you be laughing too?’

An unwilling smile tugged at the corner of Cicely’s mouth as she caught sight of herself in the Daimler’s windows, wet and bedraggled, with pond weed sticking out of her hair. So absurd was the picture that she almost succumbed to laughter but she fought it down, knowing that laughing would only encourage him.

‘Certainly not,’ she said repressively. ‘The sight of someone in distress has never amused me. Now, if you will kindly retrieve my bicycle, I will be on my way.’

He shrugged. ‘As you wish.’

Cicely splashed her way to the edge of the pond. She would have preferred to retrieve her bicycle herself, but she had realized it was impossible.

As she climbed out of the pond, dirty water trickled from her sodden garments, making a puddle on the grass. She shook her head in dismay and then set about wringing out her skirt. Luckily, being specially designed for bicycling, it was only mid-calf length, and not as long as the skirts she habitually wore when doing anything else. Having wrung it out, she straightened her jacket before re-settling her hat on top of her head. Then she looked round to see how the driver was doing. He had managed to rescue her bicycle and was in the process of carrying it to the side of the pond. But it was in a sorry state.

‘Oh, no!’ Cicely wailed. The once-gleaming machine was covered in pond slime. Mud was caught between the spokes, and the handlebars were bent.

‘It’s not as bad as it looks,’ he said. There was still a glint of humour in his eye, but there was a hint of something softer as well, and his mouth was surprisingly gentle.

‘Not to you, perhaps,’ she remarked with a sigh. ‘The next time you go for a jaunt,’ she went on, taking it from him, ‘I suggest you choose a different village. Little Oakleigh is a peaceful place, and we prefer it to remain that way.’

Then, filled with a sudden longing to be safely back at the Lodge, she mounted her bicycle and, without a backward glance, she rode away.

He stood and watched her for a minute. There was something very appealing about her, even though she was covered in mud. Her carriage was erect, revealing the beautiful line of her straight back. Her neck was elegant, and there was a graceful set to her head.

Her hair, bedraggled though it was, had a softness about it that made him long to touch it, and the tendrils that had escaped from their pins were being blown across her shoulders in the most tantalising way.

Her slender curves, not quite hidden beneath her bolero jacket, together with the glimpse of shapely calf afforded by her bicycling skirt made his body stir. It was a long time since anyone had attracted him so much. But becoming attracted to one of the local girls was not on his agenda.

Against his will he watched her until she was out of sight, then climbed back into his Daimler and started up the engine.

He pulled away and began to drive carefully on towards Oakleigh Manor. He was mindful of the fact that at any moment another young lady on a bicycle might come hurtling round a corner before launching herself into a ditch!

It was not an auspicious start to his new life as lord of the manor, he reflected with a wry smile, but things could have been worse. He could have been confronted