Chapter Nine
“I wish for ye to show me this place called Hyde Park,” Jamie announced after lunch as he entered the sitting room where Mari was working on a piece of embroidery near the fireplace.
“Ouch! Drat.” Mari missed a stitch, piercing her finger instead. She wasn’t any better at needlecraft now than she had been as a child. She licked the tiny drop of blood off and looked up at Jamie who appeared fixated on her offended finger. Slowly, she lowered it from her mouth. His golden eyes followed her movement.
“Why do you want to see Hyde Park?”
Jamie came in and sat down on the sofa, bypassing several of the ivory satin-brocaded chairs the women callers favored. Mari had told him once, despite the chairs looking fragile with their ornately carved legs and arms, they were sturdy enough to hold him. Jamie had looked skeptical, not that she could take him to account for that. His large frame did fill nearly a third of the chaise.
He shrugged as he stretched his long legs out, bumping a glass-topped table set with china figurines that rattled dangerously. “A lass asked if I’d been to the park yet,” he replied, shifting his boots away from the delicate arrangement. “She offered to show me the place.”
“Who asked? Violetta or Amelia?” Mari could just imagine either of those two being so bold.
“Neither. Well, at least not the first offer. I think the lass’s name was Olivia.”
Mari hid her surprise. Olivia Ashley was a quiet girl, almost even more timid than Abigail. How in the world did she ever work up the courage to ask Jamie to accompany her to Hyde Park? Mari gave Jamie a sideways look. The man probably gave the poor thing his dimpled smile, flirt that he was, and she fancied him taken with her.
“Why did you not go with her?”
“I have nae intentions of courting the lass. I suspect a carriage ride would make her think I did.”
Well, Mari had to admit, at least Jamie was not leading Olivia on. Then she frowned. “If you took a carriage ride with me, people would think the same.” That simply would not do now that she had met Nicholas.
“Who said anything about a carriage ride? I thought to take the saddle horses. They need riding.”
Mari shook her head. “I do not ride well.” She remembered how uncomfortable the horse had felt the night Jillian and she escaped from Wesley. Besides, the beasts werehuge.
Jamie grinned. “I remember, lass. ’Tis a reason why ye should get on one. There’s a wee gentle mare in the stable that would do ye no harm.”
Mari put her embroidery aside. “Do you think I am afraid of horses?”
He tilted his head to one side, studying her. “I think mayhap ye are.”
She hoped he didn’t realize how close to truth he spoke. She never had really trusted the brutes could be controlled by just small straps of reins. Never mind that Jillian rode both sidesaddle and astride as though she’d been born to it. “I certainly amnotafraid. I just prefer not to sit on one’s back.”
“Ye just need to get the feel of it,” Jamie answered. “’Tis a pity ye have those magnificent Andalusians at Newburn and ye are scared to ride.”
Mari glared at him. “I amnotafraid.”
“Nae? Then prove it, lass.”
“I do not have toproveanything to you, sirrah. Ladies pursue more delicate activities.”
He raised one of his brows as he regarded the uneven stitches on her embroidery loop. “Ye have skills such as running a household then? Keeping the larders stocked, the accounts in order and the servants well trained?”
Mari hesitated. “Well, no. Jillian took care of that.”
“Jillian also sat a horse well.”
“That does not signify. What I meant was young ladies pursue full social calendars. I dance quite well.”
“A fine skill indeed.”
He was making fun of her. Mari felt her temper rising. “Do you dance, sirrah?”
“Nae. I see little need for a mon to prance about.”
Of course he didn’t. Dancing was much too refined for someone who wanted to carry a huge sword slung to his back, to say nothing about knives strung to him. As if… Mari gave Jamie a calculating look. She had the perfect solution to stop him from badgering her about riding. She smiled. “I have an offer for you.”
