why isn’t Lady Gwyn joining us?” she asked, now clearly on her guard.
“Because I already know my sister quite well, Miss Wolfe,” he joked.
She didn’t so much as crack a smile. “I-I meant . . . That is . . .”
“I know what you meant,” he said, taking pity on her. He wished he could make her feel as easy around him as she clearly did around Sheridan. “And besides, Gwyn is keeping Mother company.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” Refusing to look at him, she smoothed down her rumpled skirts. “I have to walk the dogs. Pointers need lots of exercise or they—”
“—become restless and unmanageable. Yes, I know. Why don’t we walk them together? I promise I don’t bite, Miss Wolfe. No pun intended.”
Her lips twitched as if she fought a smile. “In my experience, sir, any man can bite if provoked.”
“Then don’t provoke me, and I won’t show my teeth.” When she bristled, he flashed her a grin meant to soothe. “You may have noticed I’m not easy to provoke. I’m like your pointers—ready to come to heel at a command.”
She snorted. “I rather doubt that, Your Grace.”
The use of the honorific irritated him. “Call me Grey, if you please, like the others do. Or even Greycourt, if you prefer. You’re not a servant, and I’m not your master.”
“All right. But then you must call me Beatrice like the rest of the family.”
“Not Bea?” he asked.
A sigh escaped her. “Don’t say anything to the others, but I can’t stand ‘Bea.’ It makes me think of old ladies.”
“Thank you for telling me. Though you ought to tell them, too.”
“I can’t. They’ve been so kind to me.”
“Ah. And no one could ever accuse me of that.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’m teasing you,” he said with a laugh. “I told you, I’m not easy to provoke. All appearances to the contrary.”
“If you say so . . . Grey.” But her tone showed she was still wary.
Not waiting for him to lead the way, she headed down the hill with the dogs dancing ahead of her. Grey followed, noting how she seemed to control the hounds with an invisible leash. They never got too far ahead of her nor dashed off into the woods. And when one of them looked as if he might do so, she merely murmured a word, and he came to heel instantly.
“Your pointers are very well trained,” he observed.
“If you can tell that, you must be quite the hunter.”
“Actually, hunting isn’t my favorite pastime, but I do know dogs. I used to have two setters as pets. They were not well trained or even well behaved, for that matter. You’ve never seen a more rambunctious pair of rascals. No one could control them, including me.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Though I daresay you could have.”
“I should hope so. Setters aren’t so hard to train.” She fixed her gaze on the dogs gamboling ahead of them. “You said you ‘used to.’ What happened to your pets?”
After a moment, he said, “I had to leave them behind in Prussia when I came back to England to attend Eton.”
“Oh, how awful.” Sympathy flooded her face. “You must have missed them terribly.”
Not as much as I missed my family. “They were dogs, Miss Wolfe. Not children.”
He’d meant to put her off. Instead, she eyed him closely. “That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t miss them just the same.”
“I didn’t have time to miss them,” he said, then changed the subject. “So, I understand that you and your brother live in the dower house on the estate.”
For some reason, that turned her prickly once more. “We do, yes. At least as long as your mother prefers to live in the hall.”
“Trust me, my mother will always live as close to her children as is possible, so unless Sheridan kicks her out—”
“Or his new wife does,” she said tartly. Then she caught herself. “Forgive me, Your Grace. That was too blunt.”
“Would you please stop that?”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I meant to say ‘Grey.’”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Stop apologizing for saying what you think. It’s what I do every day of my life.”
That made her stiffen. “Because you can. You’re a duke, and a wealthy one at that. No one is going to stand up to you, and if I had any sense, I wouldn’t, either.”
Her forthright retort made him chuckle. “That’s more like it.” When she blanched and opened her mouth, he added, “Don’t you dare apologize for that.”
Her eyes glittered at him. “I wasn’t going to.”
“The hell you weren’t.” When she glanced pointedly down to where his hand still gripped her arm, he released her. “Looks like it’s my turn to apologize. Forgive me for manhandling you. Though I get the impression that everything I do annoys you.”
With a furtive look down the hill to make sure the dogs were still in her line of sight, she said, “That’s not true. You were kind enough not to tell my cousin about our . . . heated exchange when we first met.”
“Was it heated?” he quipped. “I hadn’t noticed.”
That brought a small smile to her lips. “Liar.”
“I tell you what. How about if we pretend that I am not a duke and you are not my mother’s latest pro—” He caught himself before he could say, “project.” “My mother’s pro-tégée. Let’s pretend, for the moment, that we are merely two people with no ulterior motives. I will say what I think, and you will say what you think, and neither of us will apologize.”
“Why?”
“Because your stopping to apologize is taking up far too much of my valuable time,” he said with a smile. “You see? That’s how it’s done. I will be my usual arrogant self, and you will be your usual forthright self, and we will get through this together with a minimum of fuss.”
And perhaps she would reveal some useful secret about her brother. Not to mention that he would get to see the real her more often.
She eyed him askance. “I thought you were supposed to be preparing me for moving in high society. I doubt that in such a case I should be saying whatever comes into my mind.”
“I agree—you should not. Unless it’s to me alone. As long as no one else hears, as long as it’s between us, it will be perfectly acceptable. And it might actually keep you from blurting
