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“It sounds intriguing...but the word pato...it means chicken?” Jessie asked curiously.
He frowned and sighed. “I am ashamed to tell you that in ancient times...before they had a ball, they used...a chicken.”
“A chicken, oh, how despicable,” Jessie said on a gasp.
“I agree, the notion is most disturbing,” he said with sincere solemnity.
“You do have heart,” Jessie said as she cocked an eye at him. “I wasn’t sure, but one who cares about animals is quite redeemable.” She sighed. “However, now that a ball is used, I am so intrigued, I should dearly love to watch such a game.”
He laughed. “Ah, I suppose that is something of a compliment.” The boat was still drifting, and he reached for and put her gloved fingers to his lips.
Their eyes met. Without wanting to, he found himself staring at her full lips. How delicious her kisses had been. How he wanted to kiss her just then. Softly, he said, “It is my belief, little spitfire, that you would dearly love to actually play the game. Of course, your riding seat would soon find you on the ground.” The tease was in his eyes and on his curved lips.
She bridled, her shoulders straightened, and she threw at him, “That is most unfair. You cannot judge my seat by one observation.”
“No, I cannot. Very well, you will ride with me tomorrow and show me how accomplished you actually are.”
She eyed him defiantly. “I don’t have to prove anything to you, but as it happens, I shall do just that.” She pulled a face. “I wish I could ride astride, but it is impossible here in London. Aunt Charlie said it would be disastrous to my reputation.”
“Then we shall take our ride out of London. I will take you up in my phaeton, with our horses in tow. You may don whatever you deem fit and mount your horse astride...using the saddle of your choice.”
She clapped her hands. “Wonderful.”
“And I shall see if you are up to the rigors of my country, for in my opinion, you would melt beneath its sun,” he teased.
“Don Rodrigo, I am not sure I give a fig for your opinion in this matter. However, I have the feeling your opinion extends itself to all Englishwomen. Perhaps you may find we are not all alike. I will be delighted to prove you wrong,” Jessie said sweetly.
He moved towards her and took her chin, tilting her face up to very nearly touch his lips as he bent towards her. His voice was low and provocative. “It will be delightful to watch you try.”
She sat back and away from him. She was not at all daunted and told him, “You are just what they say you are, a rogue, and I am not taken in by your charm. Still, you are a bit of fun.”
He was astonished. She had given him a set-down without even trying. He was saved a reply because the viscount was shouting to them from shore. “Ah, your puppy is waving us in. I must return you to him before the proprieties are offended and your aunt bars me from your door.”
“Then do, I beg of you, sir, keep me out here a bit longer,” she teased him.
He threw his head back with the strength of his laughter, then gave her a look that had melted many a maid. She seemed unaffected and he said softly, “But then, dear Jessie, you would miss the opportunity to score a hit for all Englishwomen. And I am persuaded you don’t really want to default on that particular challenge.”
She laughed. “No, but I am not standing in for all Englishwomen—only myself.”
Rodrigo had already rowed to the short dock, and Pauly was there giving her his hand and helping her out of the boat as Rodrigo nimbly jumped out of the rowboat and settled up with the boatsman.
The viscount and Jessie fell into their easy relationship as he described some of the things he had seen with his friends, then stopped himself and said, “Er...forget I told you about that. Not for a lady.”
“But, Pauly, I am not a lady when I am with you. I am just your best friend,” she told him, and laughed.
He chuckled. “There is truth in that.”
Don Rodrigo watched them. The Lady Jess was like no other. He made up his mind about it. Now he was certain, the viscount was not courting her, and she had no romantic interest in the lad. Why this should give him such relief he could not answer, but chose not to dwell upon it.
~ Eight ~
THE SUN WAS BRIGHT IN the morning blue sky. The breeze was gentle and refreshingly cool as it came in quiet waves, bringing with it the scent of wildflowers and honeysuckle. A road of dark earth stretched out flatly for what seemed like miles. On either side of the road, tall oaks separated the road from lush green pastures.
Jessie loved the country. They were only three miles outside of London, but oh, what a difference. However, she was plagued with a certain uneasiness. Aunt Charlie had not been consulted about this outing. Her aunt had been out for the day with friends, and it was her uncle who had listened to Don Rodrigo’s assurances and agreed there was no harm. Still, Jessie knew her aunt would not be pleased when she discovered what her uncle had agreed to allow her.
Also, how the dowagers would gossip if anyone saw her with her riding skirt hiked up, enabling her to ride astride. It wouldn’t matter that Rodrigo’s groom attended them. She did not give a good fig for the deuced proprieties, but she didn’t want her uncle or aunt to be put in an awkward social position.
Rodrigo had seen her smile vanish as these thoughts occurred to her, and had asked her what the problem was. She shrugged and answered, “You will laugh.”
