her white teeth, her beautiful blue eyes, her perfect mouth, and her burnished gold hair. She had handled his fall with calm and sense and had not made a bad toss worse with histrionics. He valued that as much as her looks.
“Shall I find someone to help you?”
He heard concern in her voice, not impatience with his clumsiness, or anger at him for ruining her outing.
“No, I will be fine once I am over the mortification of looking a fool.”
“But, my lord, that comes so naturally to you, I would hardly think it mortifying.”
There was a set-down that was unexpected. Her air of sweetness hid a touch of acid that surprised him and made him wonder what else she hid behind her ladylike demeanor.
“Then I am in good company.” He straightened as he spoke. “As I often think that myself.”
Before she could answer, insult him more, or, God forbid, apologize, he hurried on. “I am more sorry than I can say for teasing you last night and then making my observation of the company sound so personal. It was not intended that way.”
There was no answering smile, her face remained neutral. Leave it at that, idiot. “I can manage now, and thank you again for your help.” He rose to his feet.
She stepped back, watching anxiously as he moved toward Jupiter. His arm still ached as much as his head, but he felt steady enough as he looked around for his hat. He spotted it and bent to grab it, ignoring the spin of dizziness, and whistled for his horse. Jupiter came but stopped short of where he was standing.
William turned to Miss Brent, who was still studying him, apparently fearing a faint was not far off.
“No comfort from my horse. I expect he thinks me worse than a fool. We’ve known each other much too long for him to mistake me for anything but a human subject to absurd behavior on a regular basis.”
Miss Brent flushed a little, but did not apologize. Good for her. He liked spine in a woman.
“Can I offer you a leg up onto your horse before I go?” He asked the question and bowed with as much deference as he could muster.
“No thank you, my lord. This stump is all the help I need.” She proved it by using the nearby rotting piece of wood to mount. She settled herself and looked back at him.
“Our brother Frederick was killed when a horse threw him,” she added. “He was sixteen. Years later my sister was thrown herself and has not ridden comfortably since. You are very lucky, my lord. If you are not at the stable shortly I will send one of the grooms to find you.” With that Miss Brent urged her mount toward the stable.
William watched her as she turned away. Even more wonderful, he thought with a hefty dose of sarcasm. Not only had he looked too stupid for her to ever consider dancing with him, much less kissing him, but he had reminded her of a heartbreaking loss.
How could he ever hope to redeem himself in her eyes? No need to figure out why it mattered. He could still feel heat where his head had rested against her. Only a bigger fool than he was would deny the attraction.
* * *
“I DO NOT know who was more embarrassed, the marquis or me. And I was terrified for a moment.” Cecilia stopped her washing-up and looked at her sister.
“Yes, I can imagine only too well.”
“I know, dearest, and I am sorry to have even mentioned it. It is only that I do not know how to behave with him now.”
“I’m sure you’re not the first one to call him a name, Ceci. Someone as hell-bent on adventure as he is would hardly be humiliated.”
“Bitsy, I’m the one who is humiliated,” Ceci all but wailed. “He is a marquis and I called him stupid!” She wrapped herself in a robe and began to pace the room. “How will I behave around him now?”
Beatrice stood in front of her sister to make her stop moving and then took Ceci’s tightly clasped hands in her own. “Calm yourself,” she commanded. When she had her sister’s complete attention, Beatrice went on in a softer voice. “Why should anything change? Do you like him better for falling off his horse?”
“Yes, I do. What I mean is that at least I see him as more human, more like a normal person, which is probably why I spoke that