AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He glanced down and saw with irritation that her feet were bare again. “You ought to wear shoes in these woods. You could cut your feet.”
Her lips curved in that not-smile and his irritation grew. Everyone else leaped to comply with his wishes, but not her.
Percy ran up, flush with the excitement of his hunt, and made to jump up on her.
“Down,” Miss Greaves calmly commanded, and the spaniel nearly tripped over his own filthy paws to obey.
Maximus sighed.
“Did you catch that poor bunny?” she murmured sweetly to Percy as he wriggled madly with delight. “Did you tear it to shreds?”
Maximus’s brows rose. “You voice a bloody sentiment for a lady, Miss Greaves.”
She shrugged. “I doubt he could ever catch a rabbit, Your Grace. Besides”—she added as she straightened—“I am named for the goddess of the hunt.”
He looked at her oddly. She was in a strange mood this morning. She’d never been deferential to him, but today she seemed almost confrontational.
The greyhounds returned, panting, along with Lady Penelope’s white lapdog, and all three greeted Miss Greaves.
He glanced at Miss Greaves in questions and she shrugged. “Bon Bon seems to like the morning rambles, and I know he loves your Percy. It’s almost as if he’s found a second life.”
She started forward. Starling, Bon Bon, and Percy ranged into the woods, but Belle fell into step with them, nosing along the path. They walked together wordlessly in what might be deemed a companionable silence if it weren’t for the tense set of her shoulders.
Maximus glanced at her sideways. “I take it your parents were of a classical mind?”
“My mother.” She nodded. “Artemis and Apollo. The Olympian twins.”
“Ah.”
She took a deep breath, her inhalation making the bodice of her dress expand distractingly. “My brother was committed to Bedlam four years ago.”
“Yes, I know.”
He caught her look and didn’t much like the cynical tilt of her lips. “Of course you do. Tell me, Your Grace, do you have all the ladies you’re interested in investigated before you decided to court them?”
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. “I owe it to my title to ensure I marry the best lady possible.”
She hummed noncommittally in response, which irritated him. “Your brother killed three men in a crazed, drunken rage.”
She stiffened. “I’m surprised that you wish to continue courting Penelope, if you know about it. Madness is said to run in families.”
It was obviously a sore point with her. Still, she proudly wore a goddess’s name. One didn’t coddle such as she. “Your line isn’t directly connected to Lady Penelope’s. Besides, murder doesn’t necessarily mean madness. If your brother hadn’t been the grandson of an earl, he’d have been hanged instead of committed to a hospital for the insane. No doubt it was better for all concerned—rather a member of the nobility be mad than executed.”
He was watching her so he saw the pained grimace cross her face before she schooled her expression. “You’re right. The scandal was awful. I’m sure it was the final straw that killed my mother. For weeks we thought he might be arrested and executed. If it weren’t for Penelope’s father…”
They’d come to the clearing and she stopped, turning toward him. He had an odd impulse to take her into his arms. To tell her that he’d keep the world and all its gossips at bay.
But she squared her shoulders, looking at him frankly and without fear. Perhaps she didn’t need a champion. Perhaps she was well enough without him. “He isn’t mad, you know, and he didn’t kill those men.”
He watched her. The loved ones of monsters were sometimes blind to their sins. No point in saying that fact aloud.
She inhaled. “You could get him out.”
He raised his brows. “I’m a duke, not the king.”
“You could,” she said stubbornly. “You could free him.”
He looked away, sighing. “Even if I were wont to do so, I do not think I would. Your brother was judged insane, Miss Greaves, though I’m sure it hurts you to admit it. He was found with the bodies of three men, terribly murdered. Surely—”
