In the silvery moonlight, he could see how her face had grown pale. Her alabaster skin shimmered.
She frowned at him and lifted her chin sharply. “It is most unseemly to follow a woman at night, sir.”
He laughed at the presumption, as he tried to keep a decent distance between the two of them. He stepped on the other side of the road so that the two of them were walking parallel to each other along the same path.
Who is this woman to think this way?
“I am merely going home, miss. You are on my usual path. Do you lay claim on the entire road, then?” he asked.
“I… Well, no. No, I do not. I simply wish for an appropriate distance between us as we move forth,” she huffed and turned her back on him, seemingly determined to ignore him and go on her merry way—if the way she scampered and darted could ever be called merry.
“Is that a London accent I’m detecting? What is a lady like you doing around these parts?” he asked.
“I’m afraid you are quite mistaken,” she replied, revealing more of the London accent she just denied.
“I am not mistaken,” he said, now thoroughly enjoying himself.
Earlier, he had craved some new experience that would break up the monotony of his days. His meeting up with this young woman was most fortunate for their conversation and the ensuing meandering through the forest were not any parts of his regular routine.
“I’m afraid you’re a rather poor liar, my lady,” he added.
“That is very rude of you to say, sir,” she snapped, and Adrian caught the flash of her blue eyes even in the dimly lit country road.
Adrian laughed, even as he felt unsettled by this woman. She was beautiful, alone, and trying to act like somebody else, but failing miserably.
“You’re clever and quick-witted, but I will give you a little advice,” he said. “If you wish to pass yourself off as a commoner, you may need a little more help with that accent.”
“Sir, I am not here to be liked and… and I do not need your advice or your persistent presence by my side,” she retorted, as she walked faster. Away from him.
Adrian had to swallow a burble of laughter.
“So, you are not from around here, then.”
She didn’t reply but kept on walking.
“You know, ladies with such polished accents as yours typically do not ignore their interlocutor’s questions. One would dare to label such behavior quite rude,” he goaded, knowing that it would rile her up.
He was right.
“Rude?” she retorted. “I find little rudeness in ignoring strange, pestering men. Which is why I do not make a habit of talking to them.”
“You have been talking to me for a while now, so I mustn’t belong in that category,” he teased, as his grin widened. “Besides, I already told you that I am merely on my way home. Perhaps I should be the one asking you not to follow me. Nobody comes this way at this hour.”
Adrian suspected that she was on the way to the vicar’s home because that was where the path led. It was the vicar’s house or his, and he didn’t remember inviting such a spitfire to his abode.
“A chance meetin’, then—an unlucky one at that,” she snapped.
He clucked his tongue lightly, amused by the way she had quickly adapted her speech. “That will not do now, Miss. I already heard your real voice.”
“Best not be talkin’ to strangers, sir,” she huffed, not in the least sounding like she was used to being subjugated.
“We’ll have to remedy that, then,” he mused. “My name is Adrian. If you give me your name, then we’ll no longer be strangers.”
“I am… I’m not that naive,” she spluttered.
“Most women I’ve encountered would have already offered their names at his point,” he noted, smirking. He was savoring her defiance. “Would you have called all those women naive?”
“No, I cannot speak for them,” the girl replied, bouncing back to her more polished accent. “But it is my experience that a lady should not simply offer her name to a gentleman. They ought to be properly introduced first before…”
