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She touched her bosom—full and rising with increasing rapidity he couldn’t help but notice—and looked up at him with real fear in her eyes.
“Mr Grayling, we shouldn’t be alone,” she whispered, stepping back and finding a solid tree trunk behind her, regarding him as if he were suddenly the devil incarnate and seeking her first opportunity to flee.
What choice did he have but to arrest her flight with what he was sure would have her in raptures?
Closing the distance before she could say another word, he brought his lips down to hers in a deep and resounding kiss, wrapping her in his arms as he pulled her to him, the hardening of his member almost painful as he anticipated how quickly her shock would turn to ecstasy.
It did not. An unprovoked kick upon the shins as she tore out of his embrace was instead her unexpected reaction, and dumbfounded, he watched as she picked up her skirts and ran towards the clearing as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.
“Miss Thea, stop!” This was unprecedented. No woman had ever run screaming from his arms. He only ever initiated intimacies when he was confident of his reception, and the shy, interested looks this young woman had been sending him had given him every reassurance.
He caught up with her when she was back on the bridle path, hailing the distant figure on horseback as if she were in the most desperate plight.
“Miss Thea, forgive me!”
“You had no right to take such liberties, sir!” She swung round, her face suffused with anger before she presented him once more with her back, stumbling in her haste to reach her approaching cousin.
Mortified, Sylvester was by Miss Brightwell’s side by the time Lady Fenton reined in, her expression a picture of both guilt and confusion.
“Thea, dearest, what’s happened?”
Miss Brightwell shook her head and Sylvester experienced a great wave of embarrassment as she cried, “I can’t tell you here, Cousin Fanny! Please, let us return home immediately.” With a sideways glance at Sylvester, she added, “There’s been a terrible misunderstanding. I’m sorry if I gave you a false impression of the kind of young woman I am, sir. Clearly I am at fault for you to have behaved with such…liberality.”
This was begun in a tone of uncertainty and finished on one of great irony, before she dismissed him roundly with, “And now I must bid you good day.”
Chapter 8
IN a fog of mystification, Fanny rode with Thea back to the estate. Only when Thea was met by Antoinette and Bertram in the drawing room, and they refused to release her until she explained the reason for her disordered spirits, did Fanny get to the bottom of the matter.
“I don’t know what I could have said to have made him behave in such an ungentlemanly manner,” Thea wept as she collapsed onto the chaise longue. Raising her head to untie the ribbons of her bonnet, which she tossed upon the floor, she buried her face in the crook of her elbow. “Oh, the indignity! I thought he was the most charming and gentlemanly of gentlemen but he was nothing but a rogue!”
“Because he tried to kiss you?” Antoinette enquired, looking as mystified as Fanny felt.
“Because he did kiss me!” Thea’s body shook.
“And you didn’t enjoy it?” Antoinette asked.
“That’s beside the point!” Thea responded, jerking her head up angrily. “I told him I had not a penny to my name.”
“Why would you say that?” Bertram’s eyebrows shot up into his hair. “Why would anyone tell anyone else they had not a penny to their name?”
Fanny turned to him. “Men must bluff about such things but for women, it’s a different matter. But Thea, my dear,” she turned back to her cousin, “why do you think he kissed you for any other reason than he thought you most charming? Are you not delighted you’ve gained his interest?”
“He saw me as an easy target. A man with honourable intentions would never behave with such impropriety. I thought he was a gentleman but he merely saw an opportunity to take advantage.”
She began to cry in earnest now. The three siblings shook their heads. Fanny cleared her throat and moved to take a seat beside Thea.
“I’m afraid I’m more deserving of your rage than poor Mr Grayling, who consulted me on how best to go about winning your regard.” She sighed as if for Thea’s benefit when really her irritation was centred on herself. Oh dear, this had not gone to plan. “Thea, Mr Grayling already knew you had nothing, before you told him, for I informed him of the same in the very conversation when I, er…warned him to be mindful of that fact and not proceed if his intentions were…er…not honourable.”
Fanny knew it was wrong to lie outright, but Thea’s precious sensibilities were not going to be satisfied with anything but some serious creativity with regard to the erstwhile object of interest’s motivation in her charms.
Thea slanted a suspicious look up at her. “You did?”
Fanny nodded. “I was quite emphatic that Mr Grayling be under no misapprehension as to how matters stood.”
“And…what did he say?”
“He told me that was immaterial, as he’d been won over by your sweet charm. He said he merely wished to know you better to gain a clearer ideas as to…”
