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She cast him a withering look. “My mother may have known you in your infancy, my lord, but I did not. Therefore, I am uncomfortable with such familiarity.”
“Ah, yes—I forget you’ve only known me as an adult.”
The barb hit its intended mark, and she felt her ears grow hot. “I’m afraid I find the status of your adulthood somewhat questionable, my lord,” she shot back in her iciest tone.
“You didn’t seem to doubt my maturity at the Somerset ball.”
Even more infuriating than his smug expression was the dangerous spark of heat elicited by his insinuation. Every insult she knew gathered on the tip of her tongue, but none of them made it past her lips before he again assaulted her dignity.
“Temper, temper, Pest,” he tutted with a meaningful nod at her clenched fists.
The dam broke. “You black-hearted son of t
he devil! How dare you even speak to me after…after—”
“After…?”
The way he said it set her cheeks aflame. “I told you I never wished to see you again,” she hissed. “Stop calling under the pretense of visiting my mother. Just go away!”
“Why? So you can lure some other poor, unsuspecting fool into your nets?” His gaze slid toward Chadwick.
Sabrina fumed. That was exactly what she was planning to do—if he would ever leave her in peace to do it. “I refuse to speak to you until you can keep a civil tongue.” She made to turn her horse, but he wasn’t finished yet.
“I find it entirely amusing that my tongue, civil or otherwise, is now viewed with such hostility,” he said lightly. “Such was certainly not the case when last we met, you and I.”
Again the blood ran hot to her face. Beside her, Chadwick’s mouth hung open.
Damn.
She grappled once more with the impulse to hurl invectives at Montgomery’s head. It would be infinitely satisfying to give him a good public dressing down, but the risk of it turning against her was too great. Thus, she kept her curses behind her teeth and urged her horse on.
He was making every effort to sabotage her. He’d as much as admitted it, the rotten scoundrel! And now, once again, he’d made it appear to everyone present that they were—she swallowed her rage, blinking back tears—together. Fairford would never look at her once word of their little tête-à-tête made the rounds.
If she’d disliked Montgomery before, she positively loathed him now. Unfortunately, her animosity did nothing to quell the desire she felt on hearing his low, intimate laughter behind her.
Henry’s gaze remained fastened on Sabrina’s retreating figure. He’d simply been unable to resist provoking her.
“Why in heaven’s name do you deliberately incite her wrath?” asked the young man beside him. “If you wish to gain a lady’s favor, should you not instead ply her with gifts and soft words?”
“Soft words will never work with that one,” Henry said with a laugh.
Confusion puckered the lad’s brow, and Henry smiled. “You’ll understand one day. If you’re very lucky.”
He joined Sabrina’s group just as they rode out, and silently kept pace with her as she worked her way to the fore. She rode as if the devil himself were on her heels. He matched her pace, stride for stride.
Glancing back at him, she urged her mount on and shot ahead, taking the first fence at full tilt.
Damn her for a fool, she’ll break her bloody neck! He followed a heartbeat after her mount cleared it, but when he saw she wasn’t going to let up, he finally backed off.
She tore across the fields, and he marked how she kept looking back over her shoulder—making sure he wasn’t too close.
She was angry, he knew. But there was something else. She was obviously terribly upset over their little sparring session, more upset than she should be. He’d embarrassed her, certainly, but there was more to it than that. She’d been embarrassed before and had not reacted in this manner. He turned the conversation over in his mind, reviewing it, looking for clues.
Any other woman would have laughed off his insinuations and played along, deflecting his comments—such was the nature of flirtation—but she hadn’t. She’d taken the bait and sunk her teeth into it with a vengeance, in turn provoking him to do the same.
She’d been shaken by their encounter too. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. It was most satisfying to know she was no more immune to the attraction between them than he was himself. But whereas he felt drawn to her and craved nearness, she seemed to want the opposite.
It struck him suddenly that she was afraid. Terrified. Terrified enough to refuse his suit, terrified enough to run from him now. But why? He’d given her no reason to fear him.
