“Oh!” Miss Morgan exclaimed, and the shock in her voice made him turn. He only got a quick glance at her before she was careening forward, her feet behind her and her arms outstretched.
He put his arms out to catch her, but he was too slow, and her gloved hands raked across his face. Her fingers snagged his mouth and dragged down his chin until they reached his cravat and took hold of it.
Nicholas made a strangled sound, and Miss Morgan tumbled into him.
As soon as Miss Morgan’s feet were steady, he pulled her hand off his cravat and pushed away from her. “Pardon,” hesaid almost automatically, then dragged a hand over his lips to inspect for blood. Thankfully her gloves had protected him from her nails, and his hand came away clean. He shook his head, cursing the fact that he hadn’t sent her back to get Lord and Lady Driarwood. “Perhaps you should abandon the idea of Lady Mercy being in trees and keep an eye on the path in front of your feet, Miss Morgan.”
Her response was a laugh. “Your Grace, I’m dreadfully sorry,” she managed to get out between giggles.
“It was an accident.”
“But what an accident.” She pulled on his elbow, forcing him to stop and turn toward her. “Let me fix your cravat at least. I’m afraid I’ve rather spoiled it.” Miss Morgan reached for his neck.
Nicholas put a hand up and stopped her. “No. In fact, I think we should return to the giraffe house and continue our search from there, with Lady Mercy’s parents.”
“But we haven’t looked down those two paths.”
He glanced forward, where, certainly enough, their course opened to two other pathways besides the one heading to the giraffe house. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated to leave Miss Morgan alone, but even worse would be to stay with her. He wasn’t entirely certain her falling and catching hold of his cravat was a mistake, and the stinging on his face wasn’t helping his mood.
“I’ll take the one on the right.”
“No.” Miss Morgan looked at both paths. “I’ll take that one. It will lead back to the giraffe house sooner. Why don’t you take the one on the left?”
He would take any path in order to be rid of her. He simply nodded and stalked away.
Chapter 19
The laughter had come fromthe larger path Mercy had left behind, and it had definitely been Miss Morgan’s. Harrington hadn’t laughed in returned, but his low, unmistakable, if unintelligible, voice had elicited giggles consistently enough for Mercy to understand the two of them were undoubtedly enjoying a pleasant rendezvous.
Perhaps Mercy should take up giggling.
Mercy gritted her teeth, because no, she was not the type of woman to change herself just to attract a man, even if the man was a duke, and besides, at the moment she had more pressing matters to think about than an unfaithful suitor. She crouched lower, but the effort only made the tiny, injured bird in front of her scoot farther into the small, spiked bushes.
Blast it all. Where was a fellow of the Zoological Society when Mercy needed one? She should have returned to the giraffe house by now. She’d told Miss Morgan to take all the time she needed with the duke before returning to the group, and from the happy sounds that had echoed throughout the garden moments ago, the two of them might still be a while. But the plan was for Mercy to be back before the two of them returned. She didn’t want to worry her parents.
She removed her bonnet from her head. What were a few more freckles? Mama had long since given up on any of her daughters having porcelain-smooth skin. It simply wasn’t in their nature. If she could scoop the bird into her bonnet, she could find a member of the Zoological Society who would know where the little beasty belonged.
Mercy lifted a branch of the bush with her free hand so she could creep forward. The bird made a tiny squawking noise and scrambled away. She grunted. Why couldn’t the poor thing see that she was trying to help?
Perhaps slow and steady was not the way to win this particularfight. The bird was injured, so it wouldn’t be able to fly away, and it hadn’t run quickly up to this point. But if it creeped any deeper into the brambles, she would never reach it.
She took one slow, steady breath, then pounced forward, shoving her bonnet deep into the underbrush. Her back foot slipped in the soft, pine needle–covered dirt, and she pitched forward. Her chest landed on the ground, but her bonnet plopped down right over the bird.
She’d done it.
“Lady Mercy?” The duke’s voice was low and surprised, with a hint of something else... anger?
Mercy jerked her head around, but she couldn’t move her arm or the little guy under her bonnet would escape. “Yes?”
“What the devil are you doing? Are you hurt? Hiding from someone? Is someone distressing you?”
Shehadbeen hiding from him but was not currently. And while the sounds of him enjoying himself with Miss Morgan had distressed her while listening to them, she was completely past caring now. Or at least, she was determined to act as if she were. “No, I’m all right.”
The duke strode to her and bent low. His hair, which was always tamed, now had several tufts of waves sticking out in unnatural ways, as if someone—Miss Morgan no doubt—had been running her fingers through it. His face was red, lips almost swollen, and most incriminating of all, his cravat had come partially undone. The Duke of Harrington she knew would never be caught without a perfectly tied cravat. Something twisted in her stomach. She’d heard from Miss Morgan about the duke’s prowess, and she’d even heard evidence of it only a few moments ago, but something about seeing it firsthand made her feel like she’d been doused with lake water.
He’d been courting her for weeks, and not once had his hair been mussed, nor had his cravat been the tiniest bit askew.
“Come out of there.” His voice was low and gravelly, still filled with emotion from whatever he and Miss Morgan had been doing. “We need to rejoin the group.”
