The Bride's Seduction. Louise Allen
have to try hard to acquit myself.’ It was acceptance of his suggestion and, relieved, he turned his attention back to his driving. They were almost upon Piccadilly. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I thought Green Park, if you would not dislike it. Far less fashionable than Hyde Park, of course...’
‘Good.’ It was said with heartfelt relief. ‘If I am to make an exhibition of myself, I would far rather it was before an audience of nursemaids, dairy maids and elderly scholars than the fashionable crowd.’
‘You will not make an exhibition of yourself,’ he remarked somewhat absently, concentrating on turning right on the busy street past Burlington House.
‘You are very confident, my lord!’
‘I am teaching you,’ he responded, unaware of how arrogant that sounded until a gurgle of laughter escaped her. ‘Hmm, that was a somewhat dogmatic remark, was it not? I can see I must rely on you to take me down a peg or two when necessary, Marina.’
The use of her first name was a calculated risk and he was prepared for the sharp intake of breath beside him, pretending not to notice as he negotiated the park entrance.
‘My lord...’
‘Justin. It will be much easier to teach you if I do not have to include “Miss Winslow” in every sentence. And if you wish to berate me for bullying you, or being too demanding, then “Justin” will be so much easier.’
‘Will you bully me?’ she enquired demurely with that underlying thread of laughter that so attracted him.
‘Most certainly. We have just established that I am dogmatic and overconfident, have we not?’ He surveyed the greensward in front of them and guided Smoke towards a long track, away from the park’s resident herd of milk cows. ‘Does anyone shorten your name? Marina suits you when you are on your dignity and being gracious, but it is a somewhat stately name.’
‘The family always call me Marina. Priscilla—Mrs Hinton—calls me Mar, but that is just a childhood name.’
‘Mari. I will call you Mari.’ The thought of a pet name for her, something no one else used, was a pleasing idea. She was blushing again.
‘Very well, Justin. I do not know what Mama would say.’
‘I promise to address you with the strictest propriety within earshot of Lady Winslow.’ He registered the touch of pleasure her hesitant use of his name gave him and made himself concentrate on the lesson. It was like gentling an unbroken horse—he had no intention of alarming her by taking anything too fast. Yet.
Marina attempted to sort through her jumbled emotions and discovered that, underneath the shyness and the fear of making a fool of herself in front of a accomplished whip, she was quite simply happy.
Justin pulled up and handed her the reins. ‘Here you are. One horse and a plain snaffle bit, so only two reins, which you hold like so...no, thumb here. We will leave the whip for a later date.’
‘Oh. Good,’ Marina said fervently, already feeling that her hands were rather too full of things and nervously aware that she could feel Smoke mouthing the bit.
‘Just keep contact with his mouth. Perfect, now shake the reins slightly and click your tongue. You can say “walk on” if you like.’
One grey ear swivelled back and Marina laughed. ‘He is listening. Walk on, Smoke.’ If the cob took exception to a rather overenthusiastic shake of the reins, he showed no sign of it, pacing off down the long drive. Marina, hardly daring to take her eyes off the ground in front, exclaimed, ‘I am driving!’
‘Certainly you are driving. Now, relax your hands and your arms or Smoke will think there is something to worry about.’ Beside her Justin turned so that his left arm was behind her and he could take the right rein out of her hand. ‘Put your hand over mine and feel how relaxed I keep my fingers. Go on, Mari.’
Tentatively she did as she was told, shaken by the close proximity of his body. It is no worse than waltzing, she chided herself, feeling how loose his grasp on the rein was. ‘I see.’ Justin handed her back the rein, turning to sit straight in the seat again, and she felt a little pang at the loss of the contact.
‘What do I do now?’
‘Go down this drive to the next bend, then turn right.’
‘How?’
‘Tighten your fingers on the right rein. I will tell you when.’
And by some miracle it worked. Marina spent a happy hour guiding the old cob round and round Green Park at a steady walk, glowing with Justin’s praises and blissfully unaware that if any of his friends had seen him they would have assumed he was fit only for Bedlam.
At last he pried the reins from her fingers and took them home. Marina sat flexing her shoulders which were surprisingly stiff and asked, ‘May I trot tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Oh, I am sorry, I spoke without thinking, it is too much to expect you to let me drive two days running.’ How mortifying, to have presumed on Justin’s good nature in such a way. He was a busy man, he had told her so, and he was only doing this for some whim of kindness.
‘Not at all, you may certainly trot tomorrow; I thought you might have been bored.’ His questioning glance was so open that she smiled back without constraint.
‘I am enjoying it so much. The driving and your company. You see, I never had a male friend before. I suppose it is one of the benefits of being out of the Marriage Mart—one does not have to consider those stuffy conventions so much any more.’
‘You see me as a friend?’ She tried to fathom any meaning behind the question. ‘Why?’
‘Because I trust you and it is easy to talk to you.’ The gig drew up outside the house and Marina hopped down before Justin could assist her. ‘Would you care to come in and take tea? I can ask a footman to come and hold Smoke.’
The door opened before he answered her and Charlie emerged, setting his fashionable hat at a rakish angle on his head. ‘Good God, Mortenhoe, what are you doing in that rig?’
‘Teaching me to drive, Charlie. Is that not kind of Lord Mortenhoe?’
‘Dashed good of him. Look, old chap, there was something I wanted to discuss if you have a moment, only I’m on my way to the club.’
‘Step up, I’ll drive you. Thank you, Miss Winslow, I will take up your kind offer on another occasion. The same time tomorrow?’
Marina agreed and stood watching with glee as her brother climbed reluctantly into the unfashionable vehicle and was driven off.
Justin regarded Winslow’s efforts to pull his hat low enough to render himself unrecognisable. ‘I will drop you off in a minute if you like. What did you want to say to me?’
‘Only to ask how it was going with my sister. The driving’s a dashed good idea, I must say.’
‘I thought so, and Miss Winslow seems to enjoy it. The only trouble is, I am not sure it will achieve much.’
‘Why not? Alone together, lots of opportunities to hold hands, not a chaperon in sight. Damn it, man, if you can’t make love to her under those circumstances, I don’t know what it would take.’
‘Miss Winslow considers me to be a friend. I am sure she thinks of me in no other light. If I start to flirt with her now, she is going to take me for a complete coxcomb.’ And Marina’s good opinion of him was something, Justin realised, that he valued.
‘Hell!’ Charlie lapsed into thought. ‘Leave it to me, I’ll see what Mama advises. Look, can you drop me off here, I can see some chaps I know coming.’
With a grin Justin pulled up to let Winslow escape before he was spotted and drove home, wondering what hare-brained ploy Charlie was going to come up with.