“Courting? Us? Pah!” She shook her head hurriedly. “I could not laugh hard enough at such an idea, My Lord. He would certainly laugh at the concept, too. He is escorting me here today in place of my brother. He is a family friend, that is all.”
“Ah, I only ask because the two of you seemed so close yesterday evening.”
“We know each other well, but we are not close. Trust me.” Dorothy laughed once more at the idea. “The Duke of Stotbury would no more court me than he would his own horse.”
“Ahem.” The clearing of a throat made her stiffen.
Dorothy didn’t dare turn in her seat. She knew who was there without having to look around.
Abruptly, Stephen sat down in the chair on her other side. His blue eyes, which were usually so intense and still, didn’t appear to know where to look at this moment. They flitted between her and Lord Chilmond.
“See? You will agree with me, will you not?” Dorothy said, though her voice was rather strained now as she appealed to him. “Lord Chilmond was asking if you and I are courting.”
“No, we are not.” Stephen’s answer came so quickly that she nodded, quite thankful for his words. “Believe me, Lord Chilmond,” he said, leaning forward to take the teapot in front of Dorothy and pour himself a cup. “She is quite right in one regard, though not to the right extent. I like my horse. I would no more think of courting her than I would a spider.”
“Oh! Harsh words, indeed.” Lord Chilmond laughed, seeming to think it a joke, though Dorothy wasn’t so sure.
She leveled Stephen with a glare, noting the self-satisfied look on his face. Strangely, rather than putting the teapot down, he refilled her cup for her. He added milk to his cup, then added milk to hers, too, to exactly the right strength at which she always drank it.
“Well, if you are not busy this morning, Lady Dorothy, I was wondering if you would accompany me on a walk through the gardens?” Lord Chilmond asked, gesturing to the windows.
“I’d be glad to,” Dorothy said hurriedly.
Here was a fine chance, indeed. Not only had a gentleman come to speak to her, one with a very fair face and dark, handsome looks, but one who was also seemingly interested in exploring the great outdoors.
“Be careful if you go for a walk with her,” Stephen piped up, taking some bread from the center of the table. “It is a bit like going for a walk with an excited spaniel. She will be running off, and you’ll be unable to keep up with her.”
“You are fond of walking, then, My Lady?”
“I am.” Dorothy answered Lord Chilmond’s question rather stiffly, glaring at Stephen questioningly. “What are you doing?” she mouthed, her head turned away from Lord Chilmond.
Stephen didn’t answer her, but ate his breakfast, still seeming mightily pleased with himself.
“I’ll have to accompany the two of you as a chaperone, of course. That is if you do not mind taking a walk with an excited spaniel?”
“Stephen!” she hissed.
“I do not mind at all.” Lord Chilmond’s answer came so fast that she had no more time to reprimand Stephen. Instead, she turned and mirrored the Viscount’s smile.
Maybe there is promise here, after all.
* * *
“This is unbearable.”
Stephen hated every minute of this, trailing behind Dorothy and Lord Chilmond as they walked together in the garden.
He wasn’t sure which part was worse, the fact that she was seemingly winning their bet now that she had the attention of the Viscount, or the fact that she was not being herself. So restrained, Dorothy wasn’t plucking at the flowers nearby, inhaling their scents and admiring them as she often did. Instead, she walked quite woodenly and slowly at Lord Chilmond’s side, on her best behavior.
I told her to be more proper. Why is it annoying me that she is doing it now?
He raced to catch up with the pair of them, not wanting to let them out of his sight for a single minute. He was just two strides behind them as they turned onto the formal borders of the garden, talking about something Stephen found incredibly boring—Lord Chilmond’s business affairs.
“You have so many tenants reliant on you, then?” Dorothy asked. “How hard that must be. My brother has recently taken over my father’s lands and his tenants. I fear sometimes the stress… it is hard.”
Stephen’s gaze flicked toward Dorothy. On more than one occasion this last year, Stephen had heard Allan complain that he didn’t think Dorothy understood the true extent of the stress he was under, but here she was, understanding it completely.
Stephen longed to step forward, to talk to her about Allan and what she had observed, but there wasn’t time.
