“As long as she doesn’t perform any here,” growled Lord Grumpy.
Izzy ignored him. “We’d love to see these equestriennes, wouldn’t we, Clarissa? I might even,” she added with a sly glance at Lord Salcott, “look for employment there myself. It sounds like just the kind of thing suited tosomeone in my position.”
“Nonsense,” he grated. To do him credit, he looked a little uncomfortable to have his words quoted back at him.
“Oh. You don’t believe I’m good enough?” Before he could say anything, she cantered away. Spotting a spreading horse chestnut tree, she headed toward it, and as she’d hoped, she spotted some of last season’s old horse-chestnuts lying among the leaves on the ground. They’d be soft and useless now, but they were perfect for Izzy’s purpose.
Without slowing, she slipped sideways in her saddle. A masculine shout rang out. Izzy ignored it. Holding on with onehand, and keeping her body balanced with all her strength, she reached down until her other hand could touch the sparse grass beneath the tree, and scooped up a handful of nuts.
She pulled herself back upright and straightened in the saddle. Laughing, she turned her horse back toward her companions, only to find Lord Salcott thundering toward her again, his expression this time pale and tight. And clearly furious.
“What the devil do you think you’re—”
“Here, have some conkers,” she said, and tossed him the handful of soft, semi-decayed nuts. Nobody said conkers had to be hard to make a point.
He caught them reflexively and then, with a disgusted look, tossed them aside. “What kind of an insane—”
“Just proving a point.”
His big leather-gloved hands opened and closed, as if itching to throttle her. “Do you have any idea how dangerous, how utterly stupid that kind of move is?”
She shrugged carelessly. “I’ve done it dozens of times. Clarissa fell the first time she tried it, but I never have.”
“She fell? Good God, it’s a wonder neither of you broke your neck if that’s the kind of crazy stunt you tried.”
“It’s perfectly safe. I did adapt our old sidesaddles to make it easier, but we had to leave them at home when we came to London.”
His hard gray eyes sliced into her. “Home?” he snapped. “You don’t have a home. You never did.”
There was a short, tense silence. Izzy’s horse shifted restlessly. In the tree overhead a willy wagtail chittered.
“You’re quite right,” she said after a moment. “I never did have a home and I don’t have one now. Foolish of me to forget. Thank you for reminding me.”
“Dammit, I didn’t mean—” he began, but Izzy had had enough of his disapproval. She cantered away, her emotions in a tangle.
***
Leo watched her leave and cursed his temper. That moment when she’d seemed to be about to be dashed to the ground had almost stopped his heart. In desperation he’d raced forward, hoping to snatch her up, hold her close. Keep her safe. All the time knowing he was too far away to save her.
And then she’d righted herself and tossed those blasted nuts at him, her vivid face alive with laughter and mischief. It was a stunt. A prank.
Relief and fury had mingled in an explosive mix, and he’d snapped at her with cruel, angry words.You don’t have a home. You never did.
He hadn’t actually meant it the way it sounded, but once the words were out, it was too late to try to take them back.
The laughter drained from her face, the light in her glorious emerald eyes died, and she’d responded stiffly. Hurt. But with dignity. She’d ridden away like a queen.
Again, he cursed his hasty temper.
But cruel as it was, what he’d said was true. Her blithe carelessness, her joyful recklessness simultaneously attracted and chafed at him. She acted as if she had not a worry in the world. And yet all that stood between her and absolute poverty was the goodwill of her half sister.
Not that Leo would let it come to that, but Isobel couldn’t know it. And it frustrated him enormously.
Despite the life she had led, she still did not seem to realize that you could not depend on other people for security. Or happiness.
***
Defiance still sizzled through Izzy, but underlying that was hurt at his harsh reminder of her place in the world—her lack of one. True though it was. And beneath all of that she felt a little ashamed, a little embarrassed. Shehad, after all, been showing off. She’d meant to annoy him, so she could hardly complain when he reacted.
