fool I am,” he said tersely as he mounted again in front of her and set off at an easy gait so she wouldn’t have to hold on tight.
Megan didn’t know why she had even attempted conversation with this man. They had nothing in common—well, nothing except horses, and that was a safe enough subject.
“Even though you have been typically outrageous, I still thank you for the ride. Caesar is magnificent, the finest, the fastest…where does he come from anyway?”
“Sherring Cross.”
She stared at his back incredulously. “I should have known. There are no finer stables in the land.”
“I grew up in those same stables you’ve got such praise for.”
“You didn’t,” she scoffed.
“Very well, I didn’t.”
A full five minutes passed before she broke down to ask, “Do you know him, then?”
“Who?”
“You know very well who,” she admonished impatiently. “The duke.”
“I thought I did.”
“What the devil does that mean?”
“It means the man has changed, Megan. He’s become a bounder, a cad, a seducer of innocents.”
She leaned away from him, affronted. “You’re a liar, Mr. Jefferys. And I’ll thank you to keep a respectful tone when you mention the duke.”
“So don’t thank me.”
Chapter 13
That afternoon, Devlin was the only one in the front of the stable when a well-dressed young gentleman walked his horse in and tossed the reins to him.
“New, aren’t you?” Devlin was asked.
“To my great misfortune,” Devlin mumbled under his breath, but louder he said, “If you’re here to see the squire—”
“Miss Penworthy, if it’s all the same to you,” the chap replied disdainfully on his way out.
Devlin stared at the reins in his hands, wondering if he looked like a bloody stableboy. “Timmy!” he bellowed.
So she was having callers, was she? That was nothing to him—except, what the devil was she doing receiving callers when she’d already decided to marry him—the duke? Hehad a good mind to go over to the manor and let that chap know that she was almost spoken for…at least, in her mind she was.
He was standing at the entrance to the stable, staring up at her empty window when another man rode up. This one was older, heavyset, but decked out in his Sunday best, his hair slicked down with Macassar oil. Again Devlin got tossed the reins to the horse.
“The squire ain’t here,” he heard himself saying quite churlishly.
“Ain’t here to see the squire,” was the fellow’s amiable reply.
“You still might want to come back another time. Miss Megan already has a caller.”
“Not surprised,” the man said. “She usually does. But I come in handy. Had to break up a fight once between two of her more jealous suitors. Also had to toss Aldrich Little out when he started bawling after she turned him down. Made quite a spectacle of himself. Upset the poor girl for months.”
“If you’re still calling, then you haven’t proposed to her yourself?”
“’Course I have. But I’m not easily dissuaded. I come ’round once every month to ask her again. It could be just a matter of mood, don’t you know. Catch her at the right time and I might get lucky.”
The fellow was too likable to dislike, but that didn’t mean Devlin liked the situation one little bit. A matter of mood? Was she playingthem all along? Did she thrive on the attention?
When he remembered that incredible, highly inflaming conversation he’d had with her at the pond this morning, he couldn’t help wondering if she wasn’t as provocative with all her suitors. Was even her innocence a ruse? I believe I’ll have more sense than to get myself in that condition , she’d said. No, only an innocent could say something that ridiculous. And to be honest, he’d had a devil goading him this morning, because he hadn’t affected her the way she had him. She’d merely enjoyed the ride, while he’d suffered acute discomfort from it. So maybe he had instigated the whole improper
Megan didn’t know why she had even attempted conversation with this man. They had nothing in common—well, nothing except horses, and that was a safe enough subject.
“Even though you have been typically outrageous, I still thank you for the ride. Caesar is magnificent, the finest, the fastest…where does he come from anyway?”
“Sherring Cross.”
She stared at his back incredulously. “I should have known. There are no finer stables in the land.”
“I grew up in those same stables you’ve got such praise for.”
“You didn’t,” she scoffed.
“Very well, I didn’t.”
A full five minutes passed before she broke down to ask, “Do you know him, then?”
“Who?”
“You know very well who,” she admonished impatiently. “The duke.”
“I thought I did.”
“What the devil does that mean?”
“It means the man has changed, Megan. He’s become a bounder, a cad, a seducer of innocents.”
She leaned away from him, affronted. “You’re a liar, Mr. Jefferys. And I’ll thank you to keep a respectful tone when you mention the duke.”
“So don’t thank me.”
Chapter 13
That afternoon, Devlin was the only one in the front of the stable when a well-dressed young gentleman walked his horse in and tossed the reins to him.
“New, aren’t you?” Devlin was asked.
“To my great misfortune,” Devlin mumbled under his breath, but louder he said, “If you’re here to see the squire—”
“Miss Penworthy, if it’s all the same to you,” the chap replied disdainfully on his way out.
Devlin stared at the reins in his hands, wondering if he looked like a bloody stableboy. “Timmy!” he bellowed.
So she was having callers, was she? That was nothing to him—except, what the devil was she doing receiving callers when she’d already decided to marry him—the duke? Hehad a good mind to go over to the manor and let that chap know that she was almost spoken for…at least, in her mind she was.
He was standing at the entrance to the stable, staring up at her empty window when another man rode up. This one was older, heavyset, but decked out in his Sunday best, his hair slicked down with Macassar oil. Again Devlin got tossed the reins to the horse.
“The squire ain’t here,” he heard himself saying quite churlishly.
“Ain’t here to see the squire,” was the fellow’s amiable reply.
“You still might want to come back another time. Miss Megan already has a caller.”
“Not surprised,” the man said. “She usually does. But I come in handy. Had to break up a fight once between two of her more jealous suitors. Also had to toss Aldrich Little out when he started bawling after she turned him down. Made quite a spectacle of himself. Upset the poor girl for months.”
“If you’re still calling, then you haven’t proposed to her yourself?”
“’Course I have. But I’m not easily dissuaded. I come ’round once every month to ask her again. It could be just a matter of mood, don’t you know. Catch her at the right time and I might get lucky.”
The fellow was too likable to dislike, but that didn’t mean Devlin liked the situation one little bit. A matter of mood? Was she playingthem all along? Did she thrive on the attention?
When he remembered that incredible, highly inflaming conversation he’d had with her at the pond this morning, he couldn’t help wondering if she wasn’t as provocative with all her suitors. Was even her innocence a ruse? I believe I’ll have more sense than to get myself in that condition , she’d said. No, only an innocent could say something that ridiculous. And to be honest, he’d had a devil goading him this morning, because he hadn’t affected her the way she had him. She’d merely enjoyed the ride, while he’d suffered acute discomfort from it. So maybe he had instigated the whole improper
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