He was aware of the change immediately and he knew she had read his thoughts. Her eyes were no longer alight with laughter but something else, an instinctive response to him. He felt the connection, the sizzle of excitement that held them immobile. They were less than an arm’s length apart, beneath her mannish jacket and white shirt her breast rose and fell as she took a deep, ragged breath. When she lowered her hand he reached for it, felt the quiver of excitement as their fingers touched, not in the least dulled by the soft kid of their gloves. They were caught in a bubble that tightened around them, moving them slowly but inexorably together.
The air shimmered with anticipation. He saw the tip of her tongue flicker nervously over her lips, as if she knew that they would kiss, that it was inevitable and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Looking into her eyes, he saw a shy smile there and he knew with startling clarity that she did not wish to prevent it. He was holding her hand, drawing her closer. They were breast to breast, he had only to lower his head now for the sweetness of a first kiss from those full, inviting lips.
* * *
Laughter, the chatter of familiar voices intruded upon the silence, breaking the spell. Phyllida jumped back, shaken. She felt very much as she did when she dreamed of falling and awoke with a start. What was she doing, standing so close to this man, wanting him to kiss her? She forced herself to turn away, to face the door where the Wakefields now appeared, the others crowding in behind them. Thankfully they all stopped in the doorway, blinking as their eyes grew accustomed to the dim light and that gave her the opportunity to recover herself and school her face into a semblance of calm.
‘Why, Lady Phyllida, you are here before us. We thought you were still wandering through the ruins.’
She forced herself to acknowledge Lady Wakefield’s cheerful greeting, to smile and make a suitable reply. The moment was gone, the small chapel was now full of people and noise. Phyllida linked her arm with Ellen’s and accompanied her around the small church, admiring the ancient tomb and the arched window with its elegant tracery. She did not look back at Richard. She could hear his voice, cool and steady with just a hint of amusement, but in her mind’s eye she recalled his face when they had stood alone in the chapel. The blaze of passion that had set her heart racing and then something quite different when they were interrupted. The look of shock, of horror, at what had almost occurred.
* * *
They did not tarry in the chapel and soon the party made its way back to the stables to collect the horses. Henry Fullingham was waiting for them, sitting on a mounting block and chatting with Parfett and Lady Wakefield’s groom. Phyllida blinked. She had not even noticed he was not with the others. To be honest she had noticed very little since that moment alone with Richard in the chapel. She heard Lady Wakefield murmur to her husband as they followed Phyllida into the stable yard.
‘If you were to ask me, Mr Fullingham is not at all interested in the romantic ruins.’
‘I quite agree, my dear,’ chuckled Lord Wakefield. ‘He lounged off in a sulk when it was clear the girls preferred Adrian’s ghoulish tales to his flirting. And look now, if he was hoping to help any young lady on to her horse he is foiled again, for the grooms are there before him!’
Lady Wakefield turned to Phyllida, saying as they watched the younger ones mounting up, ‘Well, ma’am, are you glad you came?’
‘I have enjoyed it very much, ma’am. I am grateful to you for arranging it.’
‘Thanks, too, should go to Lady Hune for her introduction,’ put in Lord Wakefield. ‘Without it I doubt our reception would have been quite so hospitable. The refreshments were truly exceptional. Pray, Mr Arrandale, tell Lady Hune we are obliged to her, when you get back to Royal Crescent.’
Phyllida had been lost in her own thoughts and had not realised Richard was so close. He had filled her thoughts and now the unexpected sight of him at her shoulder caught her unawares. The erratic beat of her heart disturbed her breathing. She was obliged to concentrate very hard to prevent herself from simpering and blushing like a schoolgirl when he asked if he might help her into the saddle.
She accepted in as dignified a manner as she could manage, trying not to think how strong he must be to throw her up so effortlessly. She forced herself to appear calm and unruffled while he checked the girth and adjusted her stirrup but her nerves were still on edge. She could not prevent her thoughts from racing ahead. What if he helped her down when they reached Charles Street? She would slide into his arms. They would envelop her, of course, and hold her close while he smiled down at her. His eyes would be gleaming with tender amusement and that would draw from her an answering smile before he bent his head and...and...
‘We must behave ourselves on the return journey, Lady Phyllida.’
Richard’s quiet words made her jump guiltily. He was standing beside Sultan, one hand resting on the gelding’s neck and only inches from her knee. She looked down at him, dazed, and saw just such laughter in his eyes as she had imagined. It stirred something deep inside her, something that disturbed and excited her in equal measure.
From across the yard Ellen called out with mock severity, ‘Indeed you must, Stepmama. Such a bad example you would be setting us!’
Phyllida was at a loss to answer her. She knew Ellen was referring to the madcap race across the turf, but she was aware that in the chapel she had come perilously close to being discovered locked in an embrace with Richard Arrandale. The look of smiling understanding in that gentleman’s eyes compounded her confusion. There was such warmth, such friendship in his glance that she could not resist smiling back at him, but as they set off on the long ride back she regained command of her senses and forced herself to face the depressing reality of the situation. Richard Arrandale had no interest in her, he was merely trying to put her at her ease in order to advance his pursuit of Ellen.
The afternoon was well advanced by the time they rode into Bath and the party broke up in Laura Place.
‘What a delightful day,’ exclaimed Ellen. ‘Thank you so much for inviting me, Lady Wakefield.’
‘It was a pleasure to have you with us, my dear.’ Lady Wakefield’s smile encompassed everyone. ‘I think we all enjoyed it.’
‘Well, Lady Phyllida?’ Richard brought his horse alongside Sultan. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’
She had had time to regain her composure and now answered cautiously, ‘The castle was well worth seeing.’
‘But originally you did not intend joining the party. Why did you change your mind?’
‘Does there have to be a reason?’ she parried lightly.
‘Well, I am very glad you did come,’ he said. ‘I have enjoyed renewing our acquaintance, my lady.’
Her brows went up.
‘Trying to turn me up sweet, Mr Arrandale?’
He grinned. ‘Could I do so?’
‘Never.’ She was in control of herself now, and felt confident enough to add, ‘I am no longer a shy ingénue, sir, to be impressed by your blandishments.’
She inclined her head, dismissing him,
