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“In certain circumstances, yes.”
Vicky laughed again. She hadn’t encountered this particular brand of arrogance before. Her brothers-in-law were very confident in their own right. The Duke of Wexford, in particular, was known for his arrogance. But being born heir to a dukedom would do that to one. Mr. Ashford Northcott was a unique gentleman in many ways.
“Well, I think your powers of observation failed you on this occasion, I’m afraid.” Vicky refused to tell him anything, especially now that he was going to try to insist that he knew what was going on in her situation. He knew nothing, she insisted to herself despite the kinship she often felt with him.
“Lady Vigilia, I meant you no insult, I assure you. I’m concerned for you. Bertram is a louse, and I would hate for you to be caught up in his clutches.”
“It is kind of you to be concerned for me, but I can assure you, I am in no one’s clutches.” Vicky was offended at the very suggestion.
“I beg your pardon, my lady.”
With a nod, Vicky finally did as she had wanted to do earlier. Digging her heels into her horse’s sides, she quickly outpaced Ashford, getting ahead of him on the laneway they were travelling upon and sidling up next to another young lady in the group.
