“I am indeed, thank you.” The man she’d been talking to eyed Mateo with a look of disdain. “A fine day for the tea,” he added.
“Isn’t it? And after all that terrible rain. Have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Daniel Woodchurch?”
Woodchurch?Mateo looked at the man with renewed interest. Of course...he could see a vague resemblance around the eyes. “A pleasure, sir. You must be Miss Woodchurch’s brother.”
“Yes.” The distrustful look he gave Mateo made him think that perhaps Hattie had told him what had transpired between them. He prepared himself to be challenged to a duel of satisfaction—he’d heard the English were particularly eager for them—and squared his shoulders. But in the next moment he remembered what Hattie had said about her brothers vexing her and wondered if she would really share something so personal. That, and the fact that her brother had not yet demanded satisfaction.
“Has your sister joined you here today?” he asked, glancing around them.
“She’s here somewhere,” Mr. Woodchurch said. “Why? What do you want with her?”
Miss Raney gasped at the bluntness of his question.
“To greet her,” Mateo said, and steadily held Mr. Woodchurch’s gaze until the man looked away.
“There are so many people here,” Miss Raney said.
Yes, London was far too crowded, Mateo silently agreed.
“She must be here somewhere, in the crowd,” Miss Raney said, glancing around them.
“It’s too warm, really,” Mr. Woodchurch complained. “Perhaps you’d like something to drink, Miss Raney.” He held out his arm.
“Icertainly would,” Lady Raney said. “Thank you, Mr. Woodchurch.” She edged her daughter aside and put her hand on Mr. Woodchurch’s arm. The man looked so astounded he didn’t know what to say, and with a look at Miss Raney, he smiled thinly and escorted her mother away. Mateo had to admire the woman’s mastery of putting her daughter in his company.
Speaking of her daughter, Miss Raney looked at Mateo and smiled sheepishly.
Mateo returned her smile. He knew what it was like to have a mother who was a force to be reckoned with—Lady Raney was not going to allow anything or anyone to come between her daughter and the eligible viscount. “I best sweep you away while I have the chance. Shall we walk?”
“Please.” She opened her parasol, and together they strolled across the lawn in the direction of a fountain.
They strolled in silence for a few moments until Miss Raney spoke. “It’s really very nice to have such a large garden in town. One can see the stars very clearly with so much space.”
Mateo instinctively looked up at the blue patch overhead.“Sí,”he said.
“I prefer the night,” she said. “There is something so magical about it. The sky looks like black velvet, dotted with crystal stars. It’s as if we’re all looking into another world.”
He glanced at her. Her love of stars sounded a bit...stiff. “But it’s difficult to see the stars from London.”
“Oh, it is. I’ll show you the best place to see them.” She pointed to the back wall of the garden and hurried ahead, checking over her shoulder to see if he followed. When she reached the high stone wall, she said, “Help me up?” and pointed to a bench. She braced herself against his arm and stepped up, then beckoned him up beside her. On the other side of the stone wall, the ground sloped away and into a larger park.
“I was raised with Lord Iddesleigh’s daughters. We spent many evenings looking over the wall.” She smiled up at him prettily, and for a moment, he imagined her smiling at him like that in Santiava.
But then, annoyingly, the image of Hattie flashed in his mind’s eye.
“I heard a secret about you,” she said, a smile playing on her lips.
The kiss.But no, no... Miss Raney was smiling with delight, and she would not be delighted if he’d kissed his scribe. Bloody hell, he was plagued by that single kiss. “About me? I can’t think of one.” He stepped off the bench, then helped her down.
“I’ve heard you are an excellent horseman.”
What in hell? He laughed with surprise. “I am not an excellent horseman. Who has said it?”
“Lady Aleksander.”
Mateo resisted a roll of his eyes—of course she had. She probably attributed all sorts of talents to him that he didn’t possess. “She’s generous in her praise. Do you ride, Miss Raney?”
“I do. Iadoreit. We keep dozens of horses in the country. My father likes to put them in races.”
