his freshly shaved jaw and inhaled the scent of rosemary and lemon of his soap. It was a lovely manly smell that went well with all that strength.
Strength enough to push a full barrel of beer off a wagon and into her path. Her stomach tensed, as she realised she’d let him lull her into forgetting.
Why did the man who wanted her death have to cause her heart to flutter? There was obviously something wrong with her. She was turning into one of those desperate spinsters who flung themselves into the arms of any man who showed them the least bit of attention. Good or bad.
Her throat dried. Her insides quaked with the knowledge that, in his case, the attention was all bad.
She stiffened. Held herself as aloof as possible in such an awkward position. And was still aware of the steady rhythm of his heart against her ribs and the warmth of his lithe body.
He glanced down at her briefly, his expression one of regret, heaved a sigh and shifted his grip, holding her a little less close. ‘Better, Miss Wilding?’
Clearly he’d sensed her discomfort.
‘Much,’ she said quietly, because it actually wasn’t better at all. Not really.
And when his long rapid stride brought them to the drawing room she could not help her pang of disappointment when he gently put her down on the sofa. She fought the insidious longing to be wrapped in this man’s strong arms.
She had learned that such longings led only to misery.
Jeffrey handed her a glass of sherry. ‘Feeling better, Miss Wilding?’ he asked with a charming smile.
Her heart was fluttering, her stomach in knots, yet she managed a small smile. ‘Yes, thank you.’
Mrs Hampton gave her a cool nod. ‘I am glad to hear it, Miss Wilding. You gave us quite a scare.’
She had given them a scare? What did the woman think, that she had deliberately sat down in front of the barrel?
‘Look what I found,’ Gerald crowed, racing into the drawing room. He bowled into the centre of the group surrounding Mary, pushing, of all things, an odd-looking three-wheeled chair. ‘Grandfather’s bath chair. He bought it the year he went to take the waters for his gout. He never used it. It was kicking about at the back of the stables. It will be perfect for wheeling Miss Wilding about. Come on, Miss Wilding, give it a try.’
Such enthusiasm was hard to squash, Mary thought, warily looking at the contraption.
‘She doesn’t want to be pushed about in that,’ Jeffrey said with a grimace. ‘All she needs is one of us fellows to carry her to the table. I can do it.’
The earl’s gaze narrowed.
Gerald’s face fell, the triumph of moments before dashed down by disappointment. It was almost painful to watch.
‘I think it is a fine idea,’ she said. ‘Much better than being carried.’
The earl gave her a humourless smile. ‘As the one who has so far done the carrying, I suppose I must also express my appreciation.’ Far from sounding please, there was a note of disapproval in his voice. Did he think she could use the wheeled chair to escape him? She looked at it with renewed interest.
‘It might work in the main part of the house,’ Mrs Hampton said with her habitual sniff. ‘But many of the passageways are narrow. And who on earth would carry it and Miss Wilding up and down the stairs? That is why my father didn’t use it, you know.’
The woman had a point. ‘Perhaps it would be better if I stayed in my chamber until I can use a cane,’ Mary said. ‘I really don’t want to put people to all of this trouble.’
‘Dinner is served, my lord,’ Manners intoned from the doorway.
‘No trouble at all,’ the earl said and she was airborne again. ‘You can use the chair when there are no beefy fellows to cart you about.’ He cast a very pointed look at Jeffrey.
Once more she was deposited on a chair. This time the earl placed her beside him at the head of the table where Mrs Hampton usually sat.
The other woman eyed her askance for a moment, then took Mary’s usual place.
Mary did her best to eat her dinner, but her ankle had begun to throb abominably. It must be the way she was sitting. Or because the effects of the willow-bark tea had worn off.
During the second remove the earl leaned closer. ‘If it is not an insult to say so, Miss Wilding, you are looking quite