“In Cumbria….” She stopped to face him, surprised at the level of outrage that tightened her chest at the distressing rebuffs she’d received from some since she came here; most particularly Miss Somersby, who had made her spirits plummet. “We are nothing like the ton. Country folk are plain-speaking. We do not indulge in innuendo and veiled spite, not like some I have met since I came to London.”
He nodded slowly as his blue gaze drifted over her. “Some members of the ton can be cruel. Has it been difficult?”
Surprised to find sympathy in his eyes, she bit her lip. She’d been moaning, what was wrong with her? For the most part, London had been wonderful. She cast him a quick glance. This change in Cartwright’s demeanor was even more difficult to deal with. “Au contraire. I have been most fortunate. Lady Arietta is a generous, wonderful person. I am having a very enjoyable time.”
“A Season can be a special time for a young lady,” he agreed. “I wonder why you don’t just do what the other ladies do, shop and attend dances, and so forth.”
She caught her lip between her teeth again. She owed him an explanation, she supposed, but not if it betrayed Arietta.
“Why do you pursue me, Miss Bromley? Is it with a view to marriage?”
She drew in a horrified breath and stared at him. “Oh! Of course it isn’t,” she cried, incensed. The man was incorrigible. “I would never employ such tricks. Not if you were the last man in London.”
“You have no need to make it so plain,” he said with a wry lift of his eyebrow. “Tell me then please, what attracts you to me.”
She opened her mouth. Then shut it again. “But you are mistaken, sir, I’m not,” she said finally, horribly aware of how rude that sounded. A bit of a lie, too. Unable to meet his serious blue gaze, she looked down at her dusty half-boots.
His silence forced her to look up. “Much as I might enjoy a charming young woman’s attention for whatever reason, please listen to me, Miss Bromley,” he said, his voice lowered. “You are placing yourself in danger. If your patroness tells you to follow me, say no!”
Her eyes widened. He knew! All this time he knew Arietta was behind this. What was the truth of their association? She’d begun to feel like a pawn in some horrid game. Was it dangerous,
or was he merely trying to scare her?
He offered her his arm. “Come with me and watch a race. My good friend, Lord Downing, has a horse called Sweet Minx running,” he said. “Appropriate, I feel.”
“Appropriate? I can’t imagine why.” She fought to resist his undeniably attractive smile. His behavior and quite possibly his morals were sadly lacking. Because it would be discourteous to refuse, and she remained curious about him, she took his arm and walked with him to the rail where the majestic thoroughbreds cantered past toward the starting line.
Once the horses were lined up, a man whom Cartwright called the starter, dropped the flag and the horses leapt forward.
Despite herself, excitement built. She cheered like those around them as the horses thundered around the final turn in a riot of colored jackets.
“Which is your friend’s horse?” Letty called above the crescendo of sound.
He put his head close to hers, affording her a glimpse of a smoothly shaven, olive-toned cheek and a whiff of spicy cologne. “The roan ridden by the jockey in a yellow coat.”
“But surely he rides too heavy!”
He chuckled. “That is my friend, Lord Downing. He always rides Sweet Minx.”
“Does he ever win?”
“Not often, but by Jove, they’re in front! Well, look at that!” he cried. “They are going to win!”
Caught up in the excitement, Letty began to cheer Sweet Minx on.
As the horses crossed the finishing line, Cartwright snatched her up with his hands at her waist and swung her around. “Sweet Minx won!”
Letty laughed with him.
He set her back on her feet, slightly giddy at his masculine strength and the warmth of his hands. Heaven’s! What if anyone she knew saw them? She would be labelled a dreadful flirt, or worse!
Before she could object to his impertinence, he sobered, his gaze seeking hers. “Best return to your party. You will be missed. Don’t forget my warning, Miss Bromley. It was heartfelt.”
“I have nothing to fear whilst in Lady Arietta’s care,” Letty said firmly, despite her heart still fluttering.
“Are you sure?” Cartwright looked skeptical. His gaze wandered over her, taking her in from her white satin hat in the latest mode trimmed with white dyed ostrich feathers to match her spencer, down to her green kid boots. It wasn’t an admiring glance, and a deep crease had formed between his dark brows.
Still slightly flustered, she raised her chin and smoothed the skirts of her French cambric dress. “Of course, I am sure.”