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“Not that.”
She raised dark eyebrows.
“I was laughing at myself.”
“Youwere?” She sounded surprised.
“Why shouldn’tI? In particular.”
“You are an earl.”
“And that means I cannot be ridiculous? The title conveys no such immunity. Alas.” He smiled at her.
For some reason, she looked uneasy.
“And I have found laughter the remedy for a great many ills,” Arthur added. Señora Alvarez seemed mystified, or…annoyed? That couldn’t be right. Why should she be? Just a moment ago she’d been delighted. “Is something wrong?”
“You puzzle me…sometimes.”
“But I am the most transparent of men,” he joked. He was so pleased to learn that she thought about him that he added, “What do you wish to know? I have no secrets.”
Her expression revealed his mistake. Señora Alvarez didn’t care to discuss secrets. She had too many of her own. “I ask nothing of you,” she replied, turning to walk on.
Disappointed, with her and himself, Arthur followed. Tom had wandered off, as he tended to do. There’d been no sign of him since they left the carriage. They were alone in a world of color and birdsong and scent. Perhaps the peaceful beauty of the place would soothe her temper, Arthur thought. But he didn’t know what would gain her confidence.
The gurgle of the stream grew louder, and then there it was, a thread of clear water tumbling over rocks. Bluebells, ferns, and mosses bent over the banks. Soft moisture wafted through the air. Señora Alvarez breathed it in. “Hermosa,” she said.
She was, but Arthur was not foolish enough to voice his opinion. He could not resist stepping closer.
A partridge erupted out of the bracken with a violent whir of wings. Arthur started, twisted one bootheel on a stone, missed his footing with the other, and stumbled toward the stream.
She caught him with an arm about his waist, stopping his slide to a certain dunking. They teetered together on the bank. He held onto her shoulders to regain his balance. Though she was much smaller, her grip was strong, her footing solid. She could hold her own and more. Her body felt soft and supple against his as they came safely to rest.
Arthur looked down. Her face was inches away. Her dark eyes were wide, her lovely lips slightly parted, as if primed for a kiss. She raised her chin. He bent his head to touch them with his, an instant of exquisite pleasure.
She jerked away, nearly sending him reeling once again. Her expression had gone stark. All the beautiful animation had drained out of it. “Do not play such games with me,” she said.
“Games?”
“I told you that what I said at the theater meant nothing!”
“So you did,” replied Arthur, stung. “And I heard you.”
“Yet you try to take advantage.”
“The bird startled me. I tripped.”
“Into my lips.” Her tone was contemptuous.
“I beg your pardon. In the moment I thought you…”
“You know nothing about me. But I will tell you that I despise tricks like that.”
“It was no such thing.”
She made a derisive sound.
She had no grounds to address him with such disdain, to practically call him a liar. “Do you doubt my word?”
