that she almost envied.
‘Oh! Oh, dear,’ she gasped as, once again, her outside leg shot off on a course she hadn’t expected.
‘This will never do,’ said Lord Havelock. ‘You’ll fare a lot better if you let me put my arm round your waist, see, like this.’
He did so, tucking her into his side, and then pushing off with the leg that was nearest her own. She felt the power of it propelling them forward as he reached across her front and took hold of her other hand.
‘My lord, I’m not at all sure this is quite proper,’ she squeaked in something very close to panic.
‘It’s only like a sort of dance hold.’
That was true. But in a dance they’d only be as close as this for a moment or two, whilst turning into a new figure. Not plastered to each other from hip to shoulder for as long as he chose to keep them like that.
‘Please,’ she begged him. ‘This is making me feel...’ warm. Yearning. Excited ‘...most uncomfortable.’
He glanced down at her. She was sure her cheeks must be bright red.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said, with a sigh of what sounded like regret. ‘I did not mean... That is, I do not want you to feel I’m taking advantage. Let me just steer us both across to the side, there, and you can catch hold of that tree and see if you can manage to stand up on your own, now you’ve had a bit of a go.’
‘Thank you,’ she managed to say, since it was the polite response to the gentlemanly way he’d reacted to her protest. But it wasn’t easy to thank him for finding it so easy to let go of her. It meant he wasn’t all that keen on having her hang on to his arm. Though why she should find that so disappointing she couldn’t think. What on earth was the matter with her?
‘Thank you,’ she gasped, again, when he’d delivered her to the promised tree, untangled their arms and helped her to get a good hold on a low branch. ‘Oh, dear, this is most awkward.’ Her legs were shaking so much, she felt sure he must be able to see it. She glanced his way, expecting to encounter a look of masculine scorn, only to find that he’d taken up the kind of stance she’d seen fielders take on a cricket pitch. As though he was braced to catch...her. Should she fall.
He had very strong, very capable hands. She’d thought so the day before, when he’d had hold of the little boy.
‘How did he go on? The little boy you took home with you yesterday?’
He blinked.
‘It was very good of you to offer him work, instead of letting Mr—’ She broke off as the branch she’d been holding showed signs of giving way. With a wobble, and a lunge, she got hold of another one.
‘I couldn’t bear to think of him being thrown in prison. It’s been on my mind all night. I’m glad,’ she said, lifting her chin, ‘that we are a little apart from the others so I can ask you about it.’
He didn’t reply straight away. In fact, he looked a touch...uncomfortable.
‘You don’t mind me asking you about him, do you?’ Oh, dear. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything. But it felt so very strange being alone with him like this, under the shelter of the tree. Not that they were alone, exactly. There were dozens of other people whizzing about on the ice. Yet there was a certain intimacy about the way there was nobody else within hearing distance. An intimacy that she’d instinctively tried to dispel.
‘First of all,’ he said, squaring his shoulders, ‘I have to confess that I didn’t exactly take him home. I live in a cosy little set of rooms, y’see, which are too small to take in stray boys. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do with a lad like that. And nor would my valet.’
‘Oh, never say you abandoned him?’
‘Absolutely not!’
He looked so affronted she immediately wanted to beg his pardon. But before she could do so, he went on, ‘I have another property in town. Durant House. Huge great barn of a place. I took him there.’
‘Then why...?’
‘If you must know, I feel a bit of a fraud accepting any praise for my actions when the task of reforming the wretch will fall to the staff of Durant House. I really did very little.’
‘Oh.’
‘Please don’t be too disappointed in me.’
Her gaze flew to his face. The words were apologetic, but his tone was confrontational.
‘I could have made up some tale that would have made you look at me the way you did yesterday,’ he pointed out a touch belligerently. ‘As though I were some kind of hero. Instead I’ve chosen to tell you the truth. Because I never want there to be any misunderstanding between us.’
Well, how was she supposed to respond to that? Given the choice, she would have mumbled something vapid and moved away. But she couldn’t go anywhere. All she could do was cling to the tree, study his boots and tell herself he couldn’t possibly be implying he was planning to prolong their acquaintance.
And yet, the way he kept looking at her...
‘And while we’re about it, I have something else to confess, too. I deliberately got you alone, so that I could talk to you freely. For I have something I particularly wanted to ask you.’
‘Oh?’ She winced. How many times had she said that this afternoon? He must be starting to think she was a complete ninny.
‘Yes. You said something about not being in London long and having plans. I know you do not want your cousins to know about these plans. But perhaps you might feel you could confide in me?’
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘I may be able to help you.’
‘I doubt that very much.’
‘You won’t know unless you tell me.’
‘Why would you even want to help me? I am a complete stranger to you.’
‘And yet something about you calls to me,’ he said, giving her a look that was unlike anything she’d ever seen in a man’s eyes before.
‘You do not appear to have anyone to help you. You need...a friend.’
Suddenly everything fell into place with sickening disappointment. She couldn’t bear to think Lord Havelock was the kind of man who preyed on defenceless females. When he’d taken that robber boy under his wing, she even started to think that...to think that...
Oh, how could she have been so naïve?
‘I do not want the kind of friendship you are offering me,’ she snapped. ‘Poor I may be, but I would never, ever...’
His brows snapped down. ‘Nor would I, ever, make a gently bred girl the kind of offer you seem to think I’m about to make. What kind of man do you think I am?’
She flushed. Felt her insides skid about as much as when she’d tried to walk a straight
