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“Hmm.” She looked skeptical.
“What is it?”
“Well, the village seems to think that you’re keeping said assassin as a prisoner in your home.”
Bertram laughed. “And why would I do that?”
She came closer, running her fan down his chest. “Some seem to think she’s seduced you.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “What piffle. Have you nothing better to do here than make up such drivel?”
“I’mnot making it up. I’m just telling you what people are saying because I am a conscientious neighbor.”
“How kind of you.” He put a hand to his chest and bowed sarcastically.
“Well, I for one am glad to hear there’s no truth to these rumors. They are quite vile and unsettling. I’m sure you would not display such poor judgement.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Poor judgement for…? Attracting assassins?”
She flicked his shoulder with her fan. “You know what I mean.”
“No. I’m afraid I don’t. You’ll have to be clearer.” His voice was markedly colder.
“I just meant you’d have better judgement than to be taken in by a beautiful face. You have much higher standards.”
His mouth twisted sardonically. “Is that so? I’m glad you think so.”
“Well, I suppose my work here is done since you very rudely have not invited me to stay for tea.”
Bertram manfully didnotroll his eyes. “Forgive me. I am rather busy at the moment.” He put a hand gently on her back to encourage her progression to the door. “Perhaps another time.”
“I shall hold you to that promise, Your Grace.”
“Yes. Do.” He stopped at the threshold of his front door, hoping to wave her on. She turned in some surprise. “Will you not escort me to my gate? I came on foot.”
Bertram gaped at her audacity.
Why can’t you walk to your own gate? You certainly came here on your own two feet with no help from me.
Nevertheless, he stepped down and joined her as she circled the manor. “I want to use the lower gate. I see your orchard is in bloom. Perhaps you can walk me among the trees.”
It was more of an imperious command than a request but Bertram shrugged inwardly and directed his footsteps towards the garden. While he was hardly mystified as to why she sought to prolong his company, he was inwardly a little embarrassed on her behalf.
It’s one thing to throw her kerchief at me but this is doing too much brown.
As he made polite small talk he entertained himself by playing a guessing game as to why she was so determined to secure his regard.
It cannot be the money. The Earl of Perrin left her more than enough of that.
He watched her as she spoke, gesticulating with her fan and no doubt instructing him on how best to escape the scandal that was about to enfold him with this lateston-dit.
The countess came to an abrupt stop beneath an apple tree and turned to face him. “Mm, I see your flowers are blooming wonderfully, won’t you pick me one?”
Suppressing the groan that wanted to come bursting free from his mouth, he reached down and plucked a blossom from a flowering bush next to the tree. He presented it to her with a bow.
She preened, taking and holding it close to her bosom. “How kind of you to indulge me, I do hope your assassin won’t come after me in a jealous rage,” she joked.
“I hope so, too.” Bertram murmured sotto voce.
