Wild Lily (Those Notorious Americans Book 1)(31)
What to do now?
He had no idea what to say. Apologize? Repeat himself?
The woman confounded him.
“Lily—” He watched her swallow hard on embarrassment and turn forward. “Lily.” Dear woman. “Tell me, what you did at home.”
Her mouth worked at words. “I—I herded cattle. Trained the sheep dogs, too. And when I got cleaned up and shed my trousers, I’d ride into town with Marianne to help nurse the sick who live along the docks.”
He was aghast.
She waved a hand, gleeful, chuckling. “I know. You’re astonished. No lady does that. No lady needs to do that.”
“Dear me,” he said, considering the sterling luster of her character. “We pale beside you.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not. I’m stunned. You and Marianne nurse the poor?”
“She more than I. And she’s much more knowledgeable than I. During our war between the States, she nursed Confederate wounded. What she knows about gun shots and diseases, no woman or man should ever have to learn.”
“This must seem so mundane to both of you. The teas. The balls. This house party. Do you like any of it?”
She bit her lip and considered him beneath her lashes.
He chuckled. “All right. Just tell me.”
“I appreciate good conversation. I enjoy tea and I love to dance.”
“All good to know.”
“But—”
“Yes?”
She rolled a shoulder. “I don’t like being pursued.”
Her bluntness delighted him. The fact that other men paid attendance to her did not. “I understand.”
“Do you? Have you ever been? Pursued, that is?”
“Oh, I have. Last Season.”
Eyes wide, she looked appalled. “Oh, come now. You cannot stop there. Who pursued you? Why? I must know the details. It’s so rarely that a man is courted.”
“I was not courted. I was hunted.”
She rocked in her saddle with laughter. “But—but you escaped!”
He gave in to the admission with a grin. “I did. Don’t ask me how.”
“Oh, I know how. I see it in you. I have seen you do it here. Hilda Berghoff has an interest in you. And Priscilla Van de Putte.”
“You are observant.” She had been watching him? Intriguing.
“You have a mask. An expression of polite indifference.”
“Do I?” I’m not indifferent to you.
Their mounts stopped at the edge of a shallow ravine, their hooves stomping the earth.
Her blue gaze locked on his. “I don’t see it now.”
“No, you don’t.” This close, he couldn’t hide his interest in her. She was too perceptive, in any case. Little good it would do her. Or him, for that matter. He wouldn’t marry any woman solely for her money. He certainly had never even considered marrying Killian Hanniford’s girl for her wealth. His pride was too great to take a woman to his home and not want her physically, at the least. But his desire for Lily gnawed at him with growing hunger. He shifted in his saddle. Was his pride too big to bow to his father’s wish to marry someone soon? Could he rid himself of his enjoyment of Lily’s company? If he kept his distance, might he control his longing to possess her?
He spurred his horse to walk on.
She fell in beside him. The sun rose higher and she closed her eyes, her face to the sky. “I’m glad spring has arrived. I’ve been cold.”
The weather. He could discuss it without danger to his heart. “Do you like it here in England?”
“I’m used to warmer weather in Texas and Maryland. Even Paris seemed less forbidding.”
“Yet you’ll consider staying here, living here, despite the temperature?”
“If I’m given good reason, yes.”
“A husband?”
She fiddled with the scarf around her throat. “My father would like that, yes.”
“Have you found any man you favor?” Torrington, perhaps? Pinkhurst, God forbid?
She smiled with tremulous hesitancy “You want me to be blunt again?”
“I’m hoping for an honest answer.”
She examined him at length. “All right. I haven’t been here long enough to appreciate any one man’s character.”
“Does that mean you don’t believe in hasty passions?”
“I’ve never experienced one, so I have no way to judge if I believe or not.” She pushed aside a branch. “One thing I do know is that I will not stay in England solely to please my father.”
“Good for you.”
“I will remain only as long as…”
He didn’t like the way she’d paused. “As long as what?”
“I’m amused or intrigued or…or I begin to believe in hasty passion.”
He sent her a smile. “Smart. Is your father the kind of man who will allow his daughter to choose her own path?”
“Given good argument, yes.”
He looked askance. “That sounds ominous.”
“Not really. He promises not to force me to wed anyone.”
Good to know. “An interesting man.”
“Thoroughly American,” she said.