The Bride's Seduction. Louise Allen

of amusement and a quizzical look. It seemed the moment of physical awareness had passed. ‘Really? Charlie hated it if Lizzie or I cried when we were younger. Lizzie still does when she cannot get her own way and Charlie positively runs out of the room. Mama says that all men are the same.’

      Justin grinned and picked up the reins. Smoke swivelled an ear back and then dropped his head again when no command to move came. ‘I had always assumed that it would be an excellent opportunity to flirt—beautiful young lady weeps daintily into a lace-edged handkerchief, I make soothing noises...’

      This time Marina laughed out loud. ‘I suspect there are very few young ladies who can produce just one or two dainty tears. I certainly cannot. I end up with red eyes and a red nose—no wonder Charlie runs away.’

      ‘You are very brave to reveal these horrid details.’ Justin shook the reins and Smoke woke up and began to walk round the edge of the grove.

      ‘Why not? You are my friend and will not be so unkind as to tease me about it.’

      ‘No, I would not tease you.’ He hesitated, uncertain as to how much he dare hint. ‘Do not be too cast down by what your mother said; things may change, other opportunities may open up.’

      ‘You are kind to try to cheer me up, but I will do better to resign myself, I think.’ She gave a little shiver and he fought back the urge to put his arm around her again. ‘But I cannot spoil this drive. May I take the reins—and will you let me trot today?’

      Days passed and nothing more was said about Great-aunt Maria and the Bath scheme for her future. Marina let herself hope that perhaps the old lady had rejected the idea, or that Mama had thought better of it, but then, after two weeks, Charlie mentioned it over Sunday luncheon and the hope withered.

      Resolutely Marina pushed the thought to the back of her mind, feeling like a prisoner who has a few weeks of freedom before being sent to their cell. It would be wicked to spoil these last days of liberty anticipating what was to come.

      She saw Justin almost every day for a driving lesson and she could now take the paths of Green Park at a spanking trot, turning corners with confidence and even passing through narrow openings without having to close her eyes in anticipation of the crash.

      Occasionally he dined with them in Cavendish Square, but Marina found herself resenting the formality this imposed on their conversation. The strange feelings of confusion and awareness she had felt when he had held her that day had turned into something different, an ache when she thought about him, an excitement when she saw him, a warm glow of happiness when they were together. It was certainly very different, being friends with a gentleman.

      On a Tuesday towards the end of the month, Justin apologised for not being able to take her driving the next afternoon. ‘I am sorry, but I promised to try out a hunter a friend wishes to sell and the only time we could arrange it is tomorrow afternoon.’

      ‘Of course, you must do just as you wish,’ Marina protested. ‘It is so good of you to let me drive so often.’

      ‘Not at all. Would you care to drive in Hyde Park the day after?’

      ‘Yes, please—if you think I would not disgrace you.’ She turned a teasing smile on him. ‘Are you sure your credit will stand you being seen as a passenger in a gig being driven by a mere female?’

      ‘It certainly will not,’ Justin replied so seriously that for a moment she thought he was in earnest. ‘Which is why I thought you might like to drive a phaeton.’

      ‘Truly? A high-perch phaeton and your bays?’

      ‘No! A low-perch and a pair of very steady roans. But still smart enough for you to cut a dash if you wish to let your friends know where you will be at three o’clock.’