Her eyes lit up. “Can I drive? I love driving high perch phaetons.” She rocked on her heels. “Let’s not waste any more seconds.”
Deerhurst swallowed. He suddenly had an ominous premonition. Not for her, but for himself. She was looking at him in a way that had the hairs on the back of his neck rise to attention, and not in a bad way. He couldn’t decipher the exact spark, but dammit if she didn’t look like she might kiss him at any moment.
Deerhurst froze.
Did her gaze just drop to his mouth?
Surely not.
He must be imagining things. He’d started the day with a desperate need for the woman before him. Now he was seeing all sorts of illusions that weren’t there.
He adjusted his cravat and offered his arm.
“Shall we go?”
Chapter Seven
The drive throughHyde Park proved not to be as thrilling as Phaedra had hoped. In fact, Phaedra would go so far as to venture that if a drive could be equated to a nightmare, this would be the worst nightmare of them all.
Her mother had told her she’d instructed all her callers to be sent away, which meant there were possible callers to send away. Deep down, Phaedra had known an empty drawing room did not equal complete success, but she hadn’t expectedthis.
Her solitude seemed to be reserved for the Sharp residence andonlythere. The moment they were spotted in Hyde Park, the wolves descended in packs.
Deerhurst’s presence was apparently deemed inconsequential.
In fact, he may as well not have been there at all, the way the wolves behaved. And then Phaedra remembered the wagers her mother had mentioned. It had to be the reason they were so persistent. She should have warned Deerhurst, but she’d completely forgotten about it, too distracted by her delight at the empty drawing room and Deerhurst’s arrival.
Beside her Deerhurst cursed.
They were completely surrounded, which forced Phaedra to bring the phaeton to a halt. The wolves had boxed them in. She couldn’t just run them over, could she? The visual imagery the idea provoked gave her immense pleasure.
“Lady Phaedra!”
“—you look lovely today.”
“Marry me, Lady Phaedra—”
She blocked them all out.
“Deerhurst,” Phaedra’s gloved fingers grabbed his wrist, “what are we going to do?”
He glanced at her, his expression grim. “You didn’t bring a pistol, by any chance?”
“I beg your pardon?” she exclaimed. “Is that humor? At a time like this?”
“I am perfectly serious.”
“Well, then, no, I did not bring my pistol,” Phaedra said. Annoyance sank into her tone. “I thought I’d beperfectlysafe with you.”
Hot eyes narrowed. “Is that sarcasm? At a time like this?”
Before Phaedra could punch Deerhurst, another wave of shouts drowned out all reason.
“Lady Phaedra!”
“What a lovely gown.”
“Your hair shimmers like the stars!”
