Page 24 of Marquess of Stone

“Well, it seems freedom suits you, Marian. Rather too well, I fear.”

The trees blurred past them as they raced, and he found his eyes watching her more than the path ahead.

The orangery appeared ahead of them, its glass walls catching the morning light like captured sunshine. As they slowed their horses in the clearing, Nicholas could not help but notice how the exercise had brought a most becoming flush to Marian’s cheeks, how her eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter.

He dismounted first, his mind already racing ahead to his next improvised adventure. “Hold this,” he instructed as he passed her the leather reined for his horse before she could protest.

The ancient orange tree that grew beside the orangery had been his childhood companion. How many times had he visited his friend Elias, and they would climb these same familiar branches when seeking refuge from their parent’s constant demands? He scaled the massive tree with practiced ease though he was still acutely aware of Marian’s gaze following his progress intently.

“Are you always this impulsive?” she called up, her voice carrying notes of both disapproval and awe as she stared up at him with wide eyes.

Nicholas grinned as he reached for a perfectly ripe orange nestled among the leaves. “Impulsive?” he plucked it free and tossed it down to her waiting hands. “I prefer to think of myself as… resourceful.”

“Of course, you do,” she muttered, but he caught the smile she tried so hard to hide as she examined the fruit. Then she surprised him — as she seemed increasingly capable of doing — by looking up with challenge brightly beaming from her eyes. “That seems rather unfair. Why should you get to have all the fun?”

He leaned against his branch, studying her with growing fascination. Most ladies of his acquaintance would have been horrified at the mere suggestion of climbing a tree, yet here she stood, practically vibrating with the desire to join him .

“You are not suggesting you want to climb the tree, are you?” he asked though he already knew the answer. Marian Brandon, he was learning, rarely suggested anything she was not prepared to follow through on.

“And why not?” she asked as she secured both sets of reins to a nearby post, her movements quick and decisive. “I am more than capable.”

Nicholas felt his smile soften into something dangerously genuine. “Very well then, My Lady. Allow me to assist you.”

He watched with barely concealed admiration as Marian gathered her skirts with practiced efficiency, approaching the tree with the same determined grace she seemed to apply to each and every one of her small rebellions. Her face bore the same focused expression he had come to recognize — the one that suggested she was about to defy yet another one of society’s arbitrary rules about proper feminine behavior.

“Mind your footing here,” he instructed, positioning himself to assist her.

“I believe I can manage, thank you,” she said archly though she did not refuse his help. “I had spent half of my childhood in trees before my mother declared it unladylike.”

The revelation delighted him. “Did she now? And what other pursuits were deemed undesirable for a young lady of your standing?”

Marian reached for a higher branch, her movements becoming more confident with each step. “Oh, the usual suspects… reading novels, expressing opinions, showing any sign of possessing a functioning mind.”

Her dry tone made him laugh.

“And what other scandalous skills did the lady acquire before propriety intervened?” he asked, watching her navigate another branch with surprising grace.

“Would it not be more thrilling to leave you wondering?” she teased though there was a hint of wistfulness in her voice. “I once convinced our gardener to teach me knife throwing.”

“Knife throwing?” His dark eyebrows shot upward. “Good God, woman, youarefull of surprises!”

“Are you disappointed?” she asked earnestly.

“Quite the opposite. Though remind me to stay on your good side.”

She laughed, the sound pure and unrestrained. “Wise of you, Lord Stone,” she said as she reached for another branch. “Though I was utterly dreadful at it, truth be told. My mother caught me before I could properly master the skill.”

“What a shame. Though perhaps it is for the best — you seem dangerous enough as it is.”

“Dangerous? Me?” She affected an innocent expression that fooled neither of them. “I am quite sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“No? Then perhaps I am not the only one underestimating someone.”

She laughed again, the sound light and cheerful. “Touche, Nicholas.”

“Careful now,” he cautioned as she navigated a particularly tricky section. “I have to admit, you are doing splendidly.”

She paused in her climb to look at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Your surprise at my competence is well noted, Lord Stone.”

---