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His eyes widened as he looked at her, his gaze searching her face. Something was different today. He looked more…real. Curiosity flitted over his features, followed by interest. “Did you?”
“I did,” she said as he reined the horses in even further, the carriage now creeping along. No one was about when he finally drew the vehicle to a stop. It might have worried her if her footman wasn’t at the back of the carriage. Still, she wondered what he might be doing. “I like riding as well.”
Kingsley shook his head. “Not me. Give me a carriage any day with speed and smooth wheels.”
While she didn’t agree, it was nice to have what felt like a real conversation with the man. Finally. “It’s clear you enjoy driving a great deal. Will we return the way we came, or will you choose another path?”
Kingsley looked back at her footman, ignoring her question. “My good sir, I seem to have dropped my glove. I believe it was just beyond that bend, would you fetch it?”
Her footman looked at her and she gave a quick nod. While she had little wish to be alone with the marquess, it would only be for a minute or two. “Hurry,” she added as he hopped off his seat and trotted after the glove.
But he’d no more disappeared from view when Kingsley turned to her. “I feel it’s time for us to speak.”
She winced inwardly even as she nodded her acceptance. Had he noticed her lack of interest? That would make this easier. “You’re very handsome and pleasant to be near,” she started, hoping to get the words out quickly. “But—”
He held up his hand. “And you are exceptionally beautiful, despite the unfortunate color of your hair.”
She blinked, surprised. The comment was odd at best. “I see.”
“And if you were about to tell me that you’re not interested in my attention, don’t bother.”
“My lord?”
“I will decide whether or not we are suited. Not you.”
Something cold slid down her spine. He couldn’t be serious. “Forgive me, but—”
“You’re not forgiven.” He frowned at the twist of hair styled at the base of her bonnet. “If I’m honest, I like your quiet nature. It’s how a woman ought to act.”
Her mouth pinched as she held back the bile that rose in her throat.
“But if we’re to proceed, there are some things we need to make clear.”
She shook her head, her stomach twisting in knots. His face had completely changed. He didn’t look friendly or nice; instead, his features were set in hard lines that were almost frightening. Was she seeing the real man for the first time?
Part of her wished to tell him that they need not proceed at all, that she did not need to hear what he wished to say.
But her footman was gone, and despite all her newfound confidence, this was a moment when instinct told her to say as little as possible. So she sat silently waiting.
She’d hear all he had to say and then make certain they never interacted with one another again.
But out of the bushes came a stranger. Tall, thin, distinguished-looking, though his dark looks held an air of sinister intent that made her softly gasp. Unsure of what else to do, she scooted closer to Kingsley.
“My lord?” Natalie asked, attempting not to sound breathless with fear. What was happening, and would Kingsley protect her? Kingsley’s hand came to the small of her back, and despite her dislike of him, she inched closer still.
“Don’t worry, my dear. This is a friend of mine, Lord Gyla.”
Gyla? She sat frozen, unsure if she should attempt to follow her footman or remain here.
“A pleasure.” Gyla stopped a few feet from the vehicle, giving her a smile that twisted his face, making him look even more frightening. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
She shook her head, completely uncertain what to say.
“I told you she was delightfully quiet,” Kingsley said as though she weren’t there.
“You did.” Gyla took another step closer. “Which allows me to get right to the point. We’ve a mutual friend that I need you to deliver a message to.”
“A mutual friend?” She looked at Kingsley, confusion surely clouding her gaze while her heart continued to thump wildly with fear.
