Lord Exmouth's Intentions. Anne Ashley
ahead down the deserted road, while with little effort, it seemed, masterfully controlling his spirited horses. ‘If my mother performs her duties as your chaperon conscientiously, there ought not to be too many occasions when we find ourselves quite alone together, and there is something I particularly wished to say to you before we embark on what I hope will be a most enjoyable stay for us both in Brighton.’
If Robina had not felt as if she were being slowly throttled she would quite happily have betrayed her feelings by giving vent to a loud and protracted groan. She had forced herself to come to terms with the fact that sooner or later the subject of a marriage between them would be raised, but she had hoped that the occasion would arise later rather than sooner, thereby permitting her to enjoy a brief period in Brighton without encumbrance. His lordship began speaking again, and she forced herself to listen.
‘We both know why our respective mothers wished us to spend the summer together. They are both hoping that I shall—to resort to the modern-day vulgar parlance—come up to scratch. Well, let me assure you, Miss Perceval, that at this present moment in time I have not the slightest intention of making you an offer of marriage.’
Turning his head, Daniel discovered a look of such utter bewilderment on her sweet face that he was forced to exert every ounce of control he possessed not to take her into his arms and totally confound her by kissing her breathless.
‘You look slightly stunned, Miss Perceval.’ An understatement if ever there was one. The poor girl looked as if she were about to swoon! ‘I’m sorry if my plain speaking has offended you.’
‘Er—no, not at all, sir,’ she responded so softly that he had a little difficulty in catching the words.
‘But I think we would rub along much more comfortably if we cleared up one or two matters at the outset.’ Again he was forced to exert the utmost control, only this time to stop himself from laughing. She was regarding him much as defenceless rabbit might a snake which was about to strike for a second time. ‘I think you must realise, Miss Perceval, that I have grown quite partial to your company during our time in London. I should like to think that we have become…friends.’
‘Er—yes,’ she responded guardedly.
‘And as such, I think we can be honest with each other without causing offence.’
‘It—er—would be nice to think we could, certainly,’ she agreed, in a voice that was growing progressively stronger, though remaining slightly wary at the same time.
‘As you may have gathered by now, my darling mother, together with most of my friends, has decided that it is high time I consider a second marriage.’
No response was forthcoming this time, so he continued undeterred. ‘It seems that most are in agreement that you would make me the ideal wife.’
Again there was no response.
‘They may possibly be correct, but I reserve the right to decide for myself. Just as I believe that you deserve the chance to make up your mind about me, without the least pressure being brought to bear upon you. That could be difficult in the present circumstances, with a certain person watching our every move, waiting with bated breath for us to announce our betrothal, unless we both work together to turn the situation in which we now find ourselves to our mutual advantage.’
She appeared merely bewildered now as she said, ‘And how do you propose that we do that, my lord?’
‘Simply by just being ourselves, and doing precisely what we wish to do. It would be foolish to attempt to avoid one another, as we’ll be residing in the same house, don’t you agree?’
‘Most assuredly.’
‘So what I suggest is that we keep the world guessing by being seen in each other’s company quite frequently, while at the same time not denying ourselves the pleasure of other people’s.’ He continued to hold her full attention. ‘Then, if by the end of the summer, when we have come to know each other a good deal better, we both decide that we should suit, all well and good, and if not…’
He reached for one of her hands and felt those slender, tapering fingers momentarily tremble in his clasp. ‘Either way, child, I want the decision to be ours, yours and mine. Not your mother’s, or mine, or anyone else’s, understand?’
It took a monumental effort, but Robina forced herself to meet his concerned and kindly gaze, and made a rather startling discovery. His eyes were not just a deep, warm brown but were flecked rather attractively with gold.
‘Yes, my lord, I do understand…And—and thank you,’ she said softly, blissfully ignorant of the fact that it had cost him dearly to suggest what he had, that the last thing in the world he had wanted was to release her from any obligations she might feel to marry him.
‘For what, silly child?’ His expressive brows rose. ‘For suggesting something that will benefit us both? Well, if you wish to show your appreciation, you can kindly stop calling me my lord. My name is Daniel.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly address you like that, sir!’ She was genuinely shocked. ‘Mama would never approve.’
‘I’m not particularly interested whether she would or not,’ he returned bluntly. ‘You’ll be residing under my roof for the next few weeks, my girl, so you’ll do what I tell you, especially if you know what’s good for you.’
She gave an uncertain laugh. By repute he was a kind-hearted, considerate man, and yet some inner feminine wisdom warned her that there might be a less agreeable side to him if he was ever crossed. She had already discovered that he was not afraid to speak his mind, and couldn’t help wondering what other interesting facets to his character would emerge before this day was out.
‘Very well, little bird, we’ll compromise. When in private I insist you call me Daniel, and when in public you may call me what ever you like…’ white teeth flashed in a playful smile ‘…providing it is polite, of course.’
Giving the little hand a last reassuring squeeze, Daniel turned his attention back to the greys. ‘We had better catch up with my darling mama, otherwise she might imagine we’ve eloped.’
‘Oh, how excessively romantic!’ Robina exclaimed without thinking, and then turned a glowing crimson when she discovered herself on the receiving end of a startled glance.
‘Excessively uncomfortable, I would have thought,’ he contradicted, slowing his team down as they approached a busy little village, ‘especially if undertaken in an equipage such as this one, and it should come on to rain.’
‘People in love would not consider such a mundane thing as the weather, if they were considering running away together,’ she pointed out, rather enjoying his teasing banter, and liking too the way his eyes were brightened by that wickedly provocative glint.
‘I should,’ he argued, ‘but then I’m a practical sort of person, not given to mad starts. Besides which, having attained the great age of almost six-and-thirty, I enjoy my creature comforts and am far too old to go careering about the country. So I can tell you now, I shall never consider eloping with you.’
‘In that case, I think you were very wise to have second thoughts about making me an offer,’ she informed him quite deliberately, knowing that even half an hour ago she would never have considered saying such a thing to him. Now, however, she felt as if a very close friendship was on the verge of springing up between them. ‘It is quite evident to me at least that we would not have suited. I should very much like a gentleman to go careering about the country with me.’
‘I never said that I had had second thoughts about making you an offer, my girl,’ he corrected. ‘I merely said—What the devil!’
For a moment Robina was startled, then she saw it too—a great brute of a man beating a donkey with a stout stick, and very much appearing as if he was enjoying the exercise, while a woman, with two children frantically clutching at the folds of her skirts, was alternately shouting and pleading with him to stop.
Without