the grey reared.
The lady, not expecting the movement, uttered a soft gasp, and Edward, fearing that she would fall, immediately pushed Titan forward.
The cat, having surely expended one of its nine lives, scampered unharmed into the bushes.
‘Are you all right?” Edward called, wondering if he should make a grab for the mare’s reins.
‘I am…fine, sir, thank you, but it would seem that…Juliet is not so easy of mind.’ The lady’s voice was unusually low and husky, but there was no trace of panic in it. ‘I hope she did not tread on the poor cat.’
‘Rest assured, it escaped with nary a hair flattened. And even had it not, it was more your welfare I was concerned with,’ Edward told her.
‘It is good of you to be concerned, but as you can see I am fine. I suspect the unexpected arrival of both cat and hunter momentarily proved too much for Juliet,’ the lady said, adroitly regaining control of the dancing mare.
‘Thankfully, it did not prove too much for you,’ Edward observed, backing Titan away. ‘Is your mare always so high spirited?’
‘I have no idea.’ The lady patted the grey’s neck with affection. ‘This is my first time riding her, but knowing to whom she belongs, I suspect she was merely in need of exercise. I thought a few times around the park would be a good start.’
Edward couldn’t remember having heard a voice as husky as hers before, but finding it excessively attractive, decided he wanted to hear more. He also wondered if there was a polite way of asking her to lift her veil. He was suddenly very curious to see her face. ‘Do you ride often in the morning? I don’t believe I’ve seen you in the park before.’
‘I am newly arrived in London, but ride when I can, and prefer the morning when there are fewer people about.’
‘My sentiments exactly. There is nothing more tedious than trying to enjoy the air when one is squeezed cheek to jowl with others intent on doing the same. Perhaps we might ride together and thereby help to relieve the congestion?’
It was a casual remark, lightly offered, perhaps even spoken in jest. Nevertheless, it came as something of a surprise to Edward, who wasn’t in the habit of extending invitations to women with whom he was not acquainted. Nor, it seemed, was the lady used to accepting them. ‘Thank you, sir, but I do not think that would be wise.’
‘Of course.’ Edward already regretted having asked. ‘I spoke out of turn. You obviously have a husband or brother at home who would object to such an arrangement.’
‘On the contrary, I have neither husband nor brother, but my stay in town is of short duration and after that I shall be returning to the country.’
It was not the answer Edward had been expecting. ‘Still, that shouldn’t preclude us from riding together while you are here,’ he said, wondering at his need to persist. ‘You did say you intended to ride, and, since we both prefer the morning, why should we not ride together?’
‘Because it would be difficult to plan such outings when I cannot commit to riding at the same time each day. I prefer the mornings, but go out when my aunt or cousin do not require my services.’
Her services? Edward frowned. Was she a companion then? A poor relation dependant upon a rich family member to ease her way?
He glanced at her outfit again and thought it unlikely. A poor relation would not be permitted such elegant clothes, nor be given so fine a horse to ride. ‘Forgive me, but in the absence of someone to perform the niceties, may I ask your name?’
‘You may ask, sir, but at the risk of sounding rude, I think I shall decline.’
‘You would deny me so simple a request?’
‘Yes, because you would not have asked had our circumstances been different.’
‘What circumstances?’
‘Those imposed by an impulsive feline who dashed out and startled my horse, thereby forcing you to offer assistance.’
‘I was not forced to offer it,’ Edward said, stung that she would think him so cavalier. ‘I was happy to do so.’
‘And it was very good of you, and I do hope I have expressed my thanks in a way that leaves you in no doubt as to my sincerity. But given the circumstances, I think it would be best if we were to leave it at that. Good morning.’
And with that, she pressed her heels into the mare’s side and rode on.
Edward watched her go, aware of having been slighted, albeit politely, by a lady who obviously wished to have nothing to do with him—equally aware that he couldn’t remember the last time a lady had done that to him…especially one who claimed to be single. She hadn’t offered her name, nor had she enquired after his. In fact, nothing in the way she had behaved had led him to believe that she knew him, or wished to. And as a man used to being the object of intense feminine scrutiny, Edward found it a new and intriguing experience.
True, his impulsive invitation to have her ride with him had come as a surprise, even to him, but in hindsight, Edward realised it had more to do with finding out who she was than anything else. Anonymity always intrigued him, and, as a man who liked to have answers, her continued resistance had sparked more than a passing interest.
Not to mention that she had the most seductive voice he’d heard in a very long time.
The lady’s groom tipped his hat to Edward as he rode by, and, not thinking, Edward acknowledged the salute. Regrettably, it wasn’t until the servant was too far past that he realised he should have asked the fellow his mistress’s name. It might not be the accepted method of gaining an introduction, but when it was the only one available, why should he not make use of it?
Still, if the lady had ridden this morning, chances were good she would ride again. If not today or tomorrow, certainly before the end of the week. And since he rode every day, and more than once if he could, it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again.
And in matters like this, patience was something Edward had in abundance.
Diana returned to George Street and changed into a round gown of sprigged muslin. After smoothing a few errant curls back into place, she draped a warm shawl over her shoulders and headed downstairs for breakfast.
She was still feeling chilled from the onset of a cold, and though the wretched soreness in her throat had eased somewhat, her voice was still much deeper than usual. But she was glad she had gone ahead with her ride. She had woken to her first morning in London feeling heavy in body and anxious in mind, and because she had put both down to the uncertainty of what lay ahead, she had decided to venture out on horseback. She rode every morning at home, and getting out into the fresh air always seemed to help improve her spirits.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until she had entered Hyde Park that Diana realised the lethargy she had been feeling was more physical than mental, and that while an invigorating ride might help improve her mood, it probably wouldn’t do much for her health. Her throat had felt as though it was on fire, so that every time she swallowed, she’d winced in pain. Nor had it made for easy conversation. Diana had hardly recognised the deep, husky voice as her own. She couldn’t help but wonder what Lord Garthdale had thought of it.
Oh, yes, she knew who he was. Thanks to her aunt’s groom, she knew not only who he was, but where he lived and who his family were. The strange part was, Diana couldn’t recall having met the Earl of Garthdale before, nor could she remember her aunt having spoken about him. That in itself was curious, since her aunt had taken great pains to point out every eligible gentleman the last time Diana had been in London, particularly those who were handsome, titled or in possession of a large fortune.
Lord Garthdale was all three. Part of the reason Diana had been paying so little attention to her mare was as a result of admiring the dashing looks of the gentleman riding towards her. Even his voice had been pleasing; neither the affected drawl of the dandy, nor the