usual. Lord knew why. He was no stranger to clever, slightly attractive women, though he had to admit, he knew few with holes in their coats and even fewer who attacked him with umbrellas.
Guy stepped out of the way of a barouche, its occupants bundled up in furs and feathers. Lord, he hated parks. He shouldn’t have come. Should not have even thought about seeking her out. It was just going to look—
“Lord Huntingdon?”
He twisted slowly, bracing himself. Which was ridiculous. One didn’t need to brace oneself for the sight of a fair-haired lady with a pointed chin and eyes that never looked anything other than shrewd.
His heart gave a strange jolt.
Standing on the opposite side of the path, Miss Haversham eyed him with a lifted brow.
He touched the brim of his hat. “Miss Haversham.” He glanced down at the white dog at her heel, its face a muddle of wrinkles and its legs short and stumpy, almost like a bulldog but not quite right. “What manner of dog is that?” he asked before he could stop himself.
A carriage zipped between them. She shrugged. “He’s a bulldog,” she confirmed. “Sort of anyway. We think he’s a mix of some kind.”
“To be certain,” he muttered.
“Whatever are you doing here, my lord?” she asked, head cocked slightly.
He struggled for an answer. There were a few, after all. Making a fool of himself could be one. Digging himself into deeper trouble with her was another. Or the most realistic answer, what, he had no idea. Now that he had found her, his grand plan of sending her chasing some other story appeared preposterous.
“I thought as the weather was dry...” He gestured vaguely. Several men on horseback passed, making the ground vibrate.
“It is better than yesterday to be certain.” She motioned to her face. “How is your cheek?”
“Oh better, thank you.” He winced. This was not going as planned. “How is your—”
A procession of carriages moved between them. He despised parks. What could be a better waste of one’s time than trying to avoid being run over by those who wished so desperately to be seen? He had far better things to do with his time.
And yet he was here. With her.
Spying a gap in the crowds, he darted across the path to join her, feeling the whip of wind blow past him as someone on horseback rode impatiently by.
“Damned parks,” he muttered.
“If you had come here yesterday, it was much quieter.”
He glanced at her. “It was pouring rain yesterday.”
“Yes, I do recall.” Her eyes crinkled with amusement.
Guy cursed inwardly. Why did this woman make him feel like a virginial whelp?
Perhaps because it was not that far from the truth but still, he was no whelp. He had spent much of his life interacting with rich and beautiful women, smart ones too. Some of them likely even more determined than her. Lord knew, plenty of them had been interested in his hand in marriage and had concocted many ridiculous scenarios to spend time with him.
Now he was in his mid-thirties, the eagerness had abated. Of course, it helped he kept away from all but the essential events. It seemed his self-inflicted isolation had roughened his manners and made him forget how to behave around women entirely.
“You really do walk here every day?”
She nodded. “Oh yes. Brig loves to see the people.” She paused. “Well, hear the people.”
“Sorry?”
“He’s practically blind,” she told him. “But he loves to be outside and he gets quite tetchy if he does not have a walk every day.”
He peered down at the dog who had perched his rear on a patch of grass and seemed quite content with merely sitting there, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “I see.” He frowned. “Brig?”
“He’s called The Brigadier really. He was a commanding, severe sort of a puppy so it seemed to suit. But he’s very old so I like to do what I can to keep him happy. He deserves it.”
He glanced at Miss Haversham, briefly catching the softness in her expression before it was tucked away. He knew why he kept himself hard and unyielding but why did she, he wondered. He almost wished he could relive that moment once more, just so he could see the slight curve of her lips and the steeliness vanish from her gaze.
A few moments passed. She bit her lip and stared at the ground before looking up. “Well, your cheek looks better so that is—”
“Shall we walk together?” he suggested in a rush