“You were walking with him.”
“And why would that matter to you?” She stood taller. “You have said nothing about… about…” She struggled for words.
“Tongue-tied, now? That is unlike you.”
“Well, maybe both of us are acting out of character at the moment.”
“Perhaps we are,” he agreed, nodding slowly.
“You have said nothing about what nearly happened in your room.”
“Shh.” He waved a hand madly in front of her. “I think it best we never talk of that. Never.”
“Never?” she spluttered. “Stephen, you were leaning toward me.”
“I was knocked on the head. I lost my marbles for a minute.”
“Oh, because that is the only reason you would ever consider kissing me, isn’t it? If you had lost all your good sense.” She tapped her temple in emphasis.
“That’s not what I said.”
“That is exactly what you said!” She turned on her heel and marched away from him, back through the garden and toward the drive.
“Where are you going?” he called, marching after her.
“Away from you, as far away as I can get. Why should I be around a man who baffles me so much?” She waved her hands manically. “I cannot believe you just said what you said.”
“What?” he spluttered.
“Am I so awful that you really had to lose your mind to even think about…” She glanced back at him, her face flushed red.
For a wild moment, Stephen thought he saw tears in her eyes, but she turned away, and he could no longer see her face.
“Dorothy!” he hissed.
Dorothy grabbed her skirt and jumped over a yew bush, separating the two of them. She turned around and shot him a victorious look. “We both know you will not follow.”
“No? You think not?”
It was taller than the flower border he had jumped over before, but he clambered over the bush to follow her.
“What has gotten into you?” she cried.
Twigs from the bush had caught in his trousers, but Stephen didn’t care. He just pursued her again as she neared the drive.
“Where’s the man who would sooner sit dutifully in a chair and not move a muscle as he chastised me for walking through a garden with wild abandon?”
He’s gone.
Stephen kept this thought to himself as they stepped onto the drive.
“Dorothy! I need to talk to you.” He reached for her hand and spun her back to face him. “It’s about Lord Chilmond.”
Dorothy blinked madly, and Stephen saw that he had not been wrong. She was, indeed, fighting tears.
“What did I do?” His voice softened. “God’s wounds, Dorothy. Do not cry.”
“I am not crying.” She blinked again and jerked her head away, but she didn’t pull her hand out of his.
