Lady Rosabella's Ruse - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,26

dog. He lifted his hat. ‘Good day, Mrs Travenor.’

Her olive skin deepened in colour, her version of a blush. Hopefully because she remembered their encounter the previous evening and not because she’d been fleeing a herd of bullocks.

Her gaze wandered somewhere off over his left shoulder, as if she was trying to think of what to say. Her back straightened. ‘Thank you, my lord. I don’t know how many times we have passed through this field without any problem. This morning, Digger decided he didn’t like the look of one of those cows and ran at it.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I wasn’t watching and he pulled the leash out of my hand. I thought he was going to be trampled.’

‘I heard him yelp. Don’t tell me, you rushed in to save him. Very courageous.’ It was. He couldn’t imagine one of the women back at the house risking life and limb for a dog.

She gave an uncomfortable wave of her hand. ‘I should have been more careful.’ She looked up at him. She’d been crying. His fingers itched to touch her skin where tears had left a shiny trail on her face. He was afraid she might shy away, the way she had last night. The more he thought about it, the more he’d realised he’d rushed his fences.

The attraction between them was obvious, it was simply a question of slowing the seduction.

Garth reached out and tickled behind the dog’s ears. It closed its eyes in ecstasy. ‘Bad boy,’ Garth said. The creature wagged its stubby tail.

‘Stupid creatures. No matter how much I yelled they wouldn’t go away. Then you come along and off they trot as nice as you please.’

He almost laughed at the resentment in her voice. ‘I’m sorry. I am sure you would have prevailed in the end. Once they realised you didn’t have a bale of hay tucked away on your person, they would have become bored and wandered off. Perhaps I should have left you to it.’

‘Lord, no.’ She gave him a rather chagrined look. ‘I was glad to see you.’

The admission warmed him. ‘I think you would have been glad to see anyone.’

She chuckled. ‘You are right.’

‘I’m wounded.’ He put a hand to his heart. ‘You are supposed to say only I could have vanquished the beasts.’

She laughed outright then. A low husky sound in the back of her throat. It caressed his skin, sent his blood flowing south while his brain seized.

With some difficulty he managed to signify they should start walking.

She put the dog down and brushed at the mud on her black skirts. ‘What brings you out here so early in the morning?’

‘The sun,’ Garth said, watching her reveal the outline of her legs with each stroke of her gloved hand. ‘The country air. I must say I am surprised to see you up and about so early.’

‘I went to collect the post.’ She sounded oddly defensive.

A basket lay in the grass at her feet. It contained several letters, one of them open.

She picked it up and let go a sigh. ‘I was reading and didn’t hear the cows approach.’

‘Bullocks,’ he said. ‘Young males who have…er…lost their maleness.’

She looked at him blankly, then lowered her gaze, long black lashes shielding her eyes, but he was sure he saw the glimmer of that lovely smile of hers twitching at the corner of her mouth. ‘Oh. I see.’

A sign she wasn’t so averse to him as she made out. She certainly wasn’t averse to his kisses. He held out his arm. ‘May I escort you back to The Grange?’

She darted what he thought was a regretful glance at the open letter, but nodded and placed her hand lightly on his forearm.

The touch seared through his coat like nothing he’d ever experienced. His blood headed south again. He should find something to do with his hands or he might do more than offer his arm. ‘I’ll take the dog.’ He grabbed the leash halfway down and she let it go.

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m surprised they don’t send a footman for the mail,’ he said as they approached the next stile.

‘I have to walk the dog anyway.’

‘And it means you don’t have to wait to read your own mail.’

She bit her lip. ‘My sisters write once a week. I am always anxious for news from them.’

He helped her over the stile. ‘Perhaps you prefer to be alone to finish your letter.’ Now why the hell had he given her the chance to be rid of him?