Page 44 of Harpy of the Ton
She lowered her gaze to her dress—Mrs. Carter’s ill-fitting gown, given with little grace and accepted with even less.
“I can’t help it if this…ragisn’t suitable,” she said, aware of the petulance in her tone.
“Heaven help me, lass, that bump to your head’s made you soft.” He reached toward her, and she flinched, but he caught her sleeve and pulled her close. “You’re a right mess with all that straw. Let me.”
He brushed her gown with his hands, wiping off strands of straw.
“There’s naught I can do about the horseshit, but their sort don’t expect the likes of us to smell as sweet as them. But if they catch you looking like that, they’ll think we’ve been rutting in a stable.”
She caught her breath. “R-rutting in as-stable?”
He grinned. “Later, lass. You’re insatiable for me as always.” He held her at arm’s length and grinned. “There!” he said. “You almost look presentable.”
Almost?Insufferable savage!
The elegantly dressed couple approached them—the squire in a close-fitting dark-blue jacket and cream breeches, and his wife in a deep-purple riding habit complete with a hat set at a jaunty angle and a feather on the brim.
Compared to them, she was a peasant.
Is that what I am—a grubby peasant?
The Beast and the other man—Ned, was it?—bowed their heads.
“Good day to you, Sir Halford,” the Beast said. “And Lady Merrick.”
The man reined his mount to a halt. His wife followed suit, tilting her nose in the air as if she’d encountered a bad smell.
“Baxter, isn’t it?” Sir Halford said.
“That’s right, sir.”
“And you’re a friend of Mr. Ryman here.”
“Aye, that’s right—Ned’s been a good friend, findin’ me a place here, thank you, sir.”
“Good—very good. You’re renting Ivy Cottage, are you not?”
“Yes, sir.” The Beast bowed his head again. Then he gave her a nudge.
Why did he insist on poking her at every opportunity?
“What is it?” she snapped.
“It’s Sir Halford and Lady Merrick,” he said through gritted teeth. “Forgive my wife’s disrespect, Sir Halford—she’s taken a nasty bump to the head.”
Lady Merrick turned her attention to Bella, lowering her gaze to her feet, then following a line along her body—the dress covered with pieces of straw and the tangled mass of curls. Then she wrinkled her nose and looked away.
“Pretty little thing,” Sir Halford said. “And she hurt her head?”
“Aye, sir,” the Beast said. “She’s been known to wander off—but she always comes home.”
“A woman should remain at her husband’s side, Mr. Baxter.”
“She’s generally obedient, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Sir Halford said. “A husband should never be too free with his indulgences. A little marital discipline can work wonders in establishing a happy home.”
“I’ll remember that, sir, thank you.”
