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His cold eyes swept over her. “Yet you shall have my company.”
His presence was almost intimidating. She’d only met a few men like the earl, where their aristocratic razor-edged elegance cloaked immense personal power.
“I borrowed your horse because I wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a few moments. Your presence…would be unsettling to the peace I desire.”
The fierce intensity with which those brilliant green eyes ensnared her had her pulse leaping.
“Ah, your recklessness is explained,” he murmured caustically.
Profoundly disturbed by the earl’s intense stare, Livvie glanced away. She had never been so uncomfortable in her life. “I suppose you wouldn’t consider my reason an acceptable excuse.”
“You supposed correctly.”
Mindful of her deportment, she said evenly, “I had intended to go around the lanes once more before I returned to the main house.”
He grunted and kneed his horse to move up beside hers. They trotted together in silence, and Livvie wondered if she should make an attempt at conversation. She desperately wished her hair had not tumbled during her ride and that she had not fallen into the mud. How terribly unladylike and unkempt she must appear.
“In her letter, my mother beseeched me to travel home and assist with your dancing lessons.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It seems at least two dancing tutors have abandoned you on account of your terrible form.”
She gasped. “I…I do not have a terrible form,” she muttered, acutely embarrassed. “It was unkind of the countess to say so.” It infuriated her to feel tears burning her throat. What else had the countess complained of? Livvie thought she had been doing so well. She’d never had a dance tutor before, nor had she attended finishing school, so she was not as graceful on the dance floor as she ought to be. The only time she ever felt elegant and had good form was when she rode or fenced.
The earl blinked. His only reaction. “Did I bruise your feelings?”
“Of course not.”
“I am relieved to hear it. Your eyes do appear a bit red, and I would not be able to abide your tears,” he said icily.
She set her teeth, dearly wishing she had not felt the sharp pinprick of hurt at his callous recital of her faults.
“You insult me by suggesting I would dissolve into hysterics simply because you know I am a clumsy dancer,” Livvie said lightly, burying all traces of earlier discomfort. The vile whispers about her father had created within her a thick hide. She’d not let a man whom she just met pierce her shield.
He made a gruff noise in his throat. “How unusual, a lady who controls her emotions. Never before have I met the like.”
He is insufferable.
“Insufferable, am I?” he mused softly, and it was then that she realized she had spoken aloud.
Her cheeks heated. “I shall not apologize when you are acting so odiously.”
A surprising smile tugged at his lips. “Are we to take another turn around the lanes?” he asked, ignoring her outburst.
Her stomach tightened. “Are you suggesting you will ride with me, my lord?”
“Yes.”
He reached up and his thumb brushed against her cheek in a featherlight caress.
She jerked away, shocked. “My lord! You…are being improper.”
He seemed equally surprised at his actions, before his countenance became remote. “There is a smudge on your cheek…and chin, blue in color.”
Oh! How embarrassing. “It’s paint. And please refrain from touching me.”
A fleeting smile touched is lips. “Of course. Forgive my lapse, Lady Olivia, it most assuredly will not happen again.”
