Page 37 of Love Abandoned

“And I thought you didn’t care for rules,” she teased. “Especially…” She put a finger to her lips and tapped them as though pondering a great issue. “Let me get this right”—she lowered her voice to mimic his baritone timbre—“arbitrary ones by self-appointed rule makers?”

“You minx,” he said on a laugh. “Your mind is a receptacle where everything is neatly stored for future use. Unfortunately, I’d be pulled apart limb by limb if I dared attempt to bring you to one.”

“Ah, yes, the secret lives of men,” she said, and his playful countenance disappeared as though a magician had snapped his fingers and worked his magic. Her stomach turned slightly. What had she done now?

“My lord,” Bennet said, leading a rich-chestnut-colored pony with white stockings. It stopped when he did. The young boy she’d seen earlier led a dun-colored pony. It shifted restlessly when the boy came to a stop.

Bennet reviewed their age, height and abilities, and Richard watched as Bennet put the ponies through their paces. Afterward, Richard walked around each pony, running his hands firmly along their necks and flanks. He rubbed his hand on each leg, pausing at their knees and lower legs, before inspecting each hoof. They both remained placid during his administrations, even when he checked their mouths.

When he was through, he looked at her. “I can find no flaw with either of them. Your choice.” His smile was back, and it was as though nothing had occurred. Did the problem lie with her? Did she anticipate the worst and look for a brooding mood when there was none?

“They are both lovely. The one on the right shifts a bit when unattended, as though restless. The chestnut has not moved at all. It bodes well for little boys, does it not?” Envisioning William on its back at Thornwood Manor, galloping freely in the fields, did provoke some anxiety.

“She has a right good disposition, my lady. A steady temperament,” said Bennet, nodding in agreement.

“Then the chestnut it is,” Richard said. “Twelve guineas.”

Bennet dipped his chin. The boy took the leads and walked both horses back into the stable.

“And another for your loss of lease, Bennet. You can retrieve your pony when you bring the chestnut,” Richard said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Yes, my lord.”

Richard raised his elbow. “Shall we, Lady Thornwood?”

He was every inch the relaxed gentleman again. Elizabeth set her hand on his arm, dismissing her previous concerns. She had far too active an imagination. She beamed at him. She didn’t want the day to end.

*

“Are we tohome now?” Elizabeth asked as they took their seats in the carriage.

For the second time in two days, he could see disappointment on her face. Last night he could do nothing about it, but today he could. He’d intended to return to the town house, but there was nothing pressing on his schedule. There’d been no word from Patricia, and he’d argued his stance in parliament without reception or a promise of more debate. It was clear there would be no consideration for a permanent police force and the city would have to continue to rely on inept watchmen and the overworked Bow Street Runners.

He tapped the roof, and the carriage immediately stopped. The streets were busy, and it had not fully pulled into the stream of conveyances.

“Where would you like to go?” His question was rewarded with a brightening in her eyes.

“Oh, Richard, truly?” When he nodded, she smiled and clapped her hands. “I’d so love a pastry. Gunter’s?”

He groaned.

“Not Gunter’s? Or not pastry?”

“I’m all for pastry, Elizabeth. It’s the gossiping crowd at Gunter’s I cannot abide. Our names have been bandied about enough of late.”

She could not argue, for she was as weary of gossips as he apparently was. “It will be far too busy anyway. I forget we are no longer in the country. I believe I would find the crush in full season unbearable now, although there was a time the bustle was part of the pleasure.”

His memories drifted back to those days, and he had an idea. “I know the perfect place.” He opened the door, stepped out, and gave direction to Simon.

“I remember it well,” Simon said, grinning.

Richard returned to his seat and tugged the door closed.

“You are looking smug,” Elizabeth said as they pulled away, her happy demeanor now returned in full.

“I am feeling smug.” He smiled. “I’m impressed with your observation about the pony,” he said, trying to change the subject. He didn’t want to discuss their destination and ruin the surprise.

“I am not simply another pretty face,” she said lightheartedly.

---