she’d never seen a man use his physical strength to protect the defenceless before, he turned, caught her watching him and smiled at her.
Her stomach gave a funny little lurch. Her heart sped up.
She hastily lowered her head to stare at the sewing that lay in her lap.
She wasn’t interested in him, not in the way Lotty and Dotty were interested in Mr Morgan. She just...she just couldn’t deny it was flattering to have such a handsome, personable young man smile at her like that.
She hadn’t been able to forget the look he’d shot her as he’d left the Abbey with the pickpocket still held firmly by his collar, either. Or the feeling that had come over her when he’d defended her from the verger’s censure. It had washed over her again, several times the night before, while she’d been trying to get to sleep.
And it positively surged through her when he took a chair, carried it to her side and sat down.
‘I bring good news,’ declared Mr Morgan once the flurry of greetings had died down. ‘The Serpentine has frozen over. Hard enough for us to go skating, if you ladies would enjoy it?’
Dotty and Lotty beamed and clapped their hands, saying what a wonderful idea it was. Just as though the incident the day before had never happened.
‘You will be coming with us, won’t you, Miss Carpenter?’ said Lord Havelock, with a hopeful smile.
She shook her head.
‘I cannot skate,’ she said with what felt suspiciously like regret.
Regret? No! She didn’t want to spend any more time than she had to with these two men. They both made her uncomfortable—Mr Morgan because of his harsh manner and Lord Havelock because of the tendency she had to say far more than she should when she was with him. And for feeling that she could say it to him. And most of all—she had to be honest with herself—because she found him so...attractive. Which made him downright dangerous.
‘I will teach you,’ said Lord Havelock, somehow turning up the warmth in his smile in such a way that she wished it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea to draw closer to him and warm herself at it.
‘Oh, Mary, please! You have to go,’ begged Dotty.
‘Yes. For we cannot go out and leave you here on your own,’ pointed out Lotty.
And they both really, really wanted to go.
There was nothing for it but to surrender with good grace.
With cries of glee, the girls took her upstairs to ransack their wardrobe again, going back down only when all three of them were swathed in gloves, scarves, boots and several extra layers of petticoats.
Her cousins sat one on either side of Mr Morgan in the carriage, which meant that she and Lord Havelock were sat next to each other, with their backs to the horses.
Once they’d tucked luxurious fur rugs round their legs, they set off. Even though the carriage was very well sprung, and they had far more room than the three squeezed together on the opposite seat, every so often the jolting of the carriage meant that their legs bumped. Whenever she felt the warmth of Lord Havelock’s thigh pressing against hers beneath the concealment of the fur, everything else faded into the background. The chatter of her cousins, the buildings at which she was pretending to look through the window—none of it reached her senses. Once or twice, he made an attempt to speak to her, but she wasn’t able to give a coherent reply. It was a relief when they arrived, and the gentlemen got out so they could help the ladies down.
Lotty and Dotty stuck close to Mr Morgan, which meant Lord Havelock was left to escort Mary.
She laid her gloved hand on his outstretched arm and let him lead her to the frozen expanse of water, besides which several enterprising people had set up various stalls to earn what money they could from this unexpected cold spell.
The men hired skates from a booth where a ruddy-cheeked woman helped to fit them over their boots.
Dotty and Lotty rushed on to the ice, shrieking with laughter and clutching at each other for support as they almost fell over. Mr Morgan went to their rescue, offering them one arm each. Clinging to him, the trio set out, wobbling and giggling, across the frozen lake.
Which left her alone with Lord Havelock.
‘Come, you need not be afraid,’ he said with a sincerity that made her wish she could trust him. Made her wish she could let go of her habitual distrust of the entire male sex, just once.
‘I won’t let you fall.’
It wasn’t falling she was worried about. It was the increasing frequency with which she was having foolish, feminine thoughts about him. Foolish, feminine reactions, too.
She gave Lotty and Dotty a wistful look. They weren’t tying themselves up in knots about the wisdom of plastering themselves to a man and relying on his strength and balance to keep them from falling over. They were just enjoying themselves.
There were skaters of all ages, shapes and sizes twirling about on the ice. All looking as though they were having a splendid time. Life didn’t offer many opportunities like this, to try something new and exciting. And the ice probably wouldn’t last all that long. She might never get another chance to have a go at skating.
When had she last let herself go, the way they were doing? Living in the moment?
Having fun?
When had she got into the habit of being too afraid to reach out and attempt to take hold of the slightest chance at happiness?
She reached out and took the hand Lord Havelock was patiently holding out to her, vowing that today, at least, she would leave fear on the bank, launch out on to the ice and see what happened.
What happened was that the moment she set her feet on to the slippery surface, she very nearly fell over.
With a shriek that sounded remarkably similar to the ones erupting from her cousins’ lips, she grabbed at Lord Havelock, who was maintaining his own stance with what looked like total ease.
‘I hadn’t thought it would be so hard to just stand upright,’ she said. ‘How do you manage to make it look so effortless?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve skated a few times before. But I had my share of falls the first time I tried it, I can tell you. If you have any sense of balance, you’ll get the hang of it in no time.’
Mary made a tentative effort to let go of his arm. Each of her legs promptly attempted to go in opposite directions. How vexing. It was only by clinging to Lord Havelock that she could even manage to stay upright.
‘Perhaps you will fare better once we get going,’ he suggested. And then, without waiting for her agreement, made a move that somehow set them both gliding away from the shore.
‘See? That’s better, is it not?’
‘Not,’ she gasped, clinging to his arm for dear life. She had no control over the situation at all. Whenever she attempted to wrest it back, her feet went skittering off all over the place, resulting in her having to clutch at him with increasing desperation.
Though
