Pursued For The Viscount's Vengeance. Sarah MalloryЧитать онлайн книгу.
added softly, ‘It suits you.’
Her cheeks flamed and she walked on quickly, unable to think of a suitable reply.
‘Do you know,’ he continued, in a conversational tone, ‘I have made myself familiar with the local rides around here, but I have not yet been to the coast.’ He stopped and turned to face her. ‘Do you ride, Miss Meltham?’
She should walk on, but her feet had stopped, too.
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Do you have a groom to accompany you? If so, there could be no impropriety if we were to take a little trip together. Will you not take pity upon a poor stranger and ride out with him?’
Deborah hesitated. They would be gone from breakfast until dinner. It was unthinkable. She determined to say no, but then she looked up to find him smiling down at her and she could not speak at all.
‘Say you will come with me,’ he murmured. ‘I promise I will look after you.’
Physically, perhaps, but that was not what was worrying her. Deb was aware of her growing attachment to Mr Victor. It would be wiser not to see too much of him. And yet...
Ran was engaged to go shooting with Sir Geoffrey and a party of friends at the beginning of the week. They would make an early start and he would dine at Gomersham Lodge, so Deborah would have the day to herself.
‘I might be free on Monday,’ she said slowly.
His smile deepened. ‘Monday it is, then. I shall call for you.’
She shook her head, suddenly panicked. ‘I do not know; it is not certain I shall be able to come.’
‘Then you may send word to me at the George.’ He hesitated. ‘Will you not take my arm for the remainder of the journey? No one would take it amiss, I am sure, for the wind is much stronger now we are clear of the town and I am afraid it might blow you away.’
* * *
What was she doing?
Deborah handed her cloak to Speke, but instead of going upstairs she went into the morning room and ran to the window, just in time to see her escort striding out of the drive. When he was no longer in sight she turned away with a sigh. He was handsome, kind and gentlemanlike.
And dangerous.
She shook her head, as if to clear the doubts. It was not really dangerous, it was only a ride, after all. She would take her groom, who could be relied upon to look after her. She would enjoy a day’s riding in agreeable company. It was nothing more than that.
Having made her decision, Deb went off in search of her brother, but by the time she went to bed she had still not told him of her forthcoming excursion, and as she drifted off to sleep she knew she would not disclose it to him. Not until after the event.
* * *
Monday morning dawned to a heavy mist, but by the time Gil reached Kirkster House it had burned off and the day promised to be fine. As he trotted up the drive he saw Deborah Meltham riding out of the stables on a neat bay mare, a groom following at a respectful distance behind her. She was wearing a dark green riding habit and her hair was firmly clipped back beneath the matching hat, but the severity of her outfit only enhanced her trim figure.
She was looking serious as she came up to him and he said without preamble, ‘Are you having second thoughts, Miss Meltham?’
The way her green eyes flew to his face told him he was right. Part of him hoped she would tell him she had changed her mind, that she would not go with him, but he knew he would be bitterly disappointed if she did that and not just because it would be a setback to his plans.
She leaned forward to pat the bay’s neck. ‘We go out rarely now, so it will be good take Bramble for an airing.’
She had not really answered his question, but he let that go. He turned his horse and came alongside her.
‘Is she fast?’ he asked, nodding at the mare.
‘Fast enough,’ she said and Gil noticed the sober look had been replaced by a definite twinkle. ‘We ride cross country most of the way, so you shall see for yourself.’
They turned west from the gates of the drive and headed away from the town. He was at pains to set her at her ease and within a very short time Deborah was chatting to him as if they had known one another for years.
* * *
It did not take long for him to learn that Deborah was an accomplished horsewoman and when they reached a stretch of open ground it seemed the most natural thing in the world to set the horses racing. The chestnut gelding had the advantage of size and strength over the mare, but for most of the way they were neck and neck, Gil just pulling away for the last few hundred yards. When he reached the hedge that separated them from the lane he drew rein and waited by the gate for Deb to come up to him. When she did, her cheeks were flushed and her smile was as wide as the sky. He could not help grinning back.
‘Did you enjoy that?’
‘Very much.’ She watched him as he manoeuvred his horse around to come alongside her and said, ‘You do not need to do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘I have noticed that you keep to the left of me, so I do not have to look at the scar on your face. I am not offended or repulsed by it, Mr Victor, believe me.’
She was smiling at him, nothing but warmth and kindness in her green eyes, and he felt something stirring inside of him, as if there was a chink in the armour he had built around his heart. She had touched softer feelings that he had kept buried for years.
‘Gil,’ he said suddenly. ‘Call me Gil.’
‘But your name is James.’ Her brows drew together. ‘You are James Victor, are you not?’
He was already cursing himself for inviting her to use that familiar name. He had not intended to allow her such intimacy, but he was not so much in control as he should be in her presence. He would need to be more careful.
‘Gil is what my family and close friends call me,’ he said, recovering quickly. ‘I should be honoured if you would use it, too.’
‘I cannot. It would not be seemly.’
She turned the mare and went ahead of him on to the lane, but he knew it was more than a physical distance. She had withdrawn from him. He brought his horse alongside her and began to talk of mundane matters until their previous rapport was re-established, and after that he was careful to say nothing more that might upset the easy camaraderie.
Gil knew he had been at fault. When they had raced across the turf he had forgotten his ulterior motive in befriending Deb Meltham. He found himself wishing that they could just be friends, that he had not set himself upon this path. But he had chosen his route and he could not change it now. He must approach it like any other military operation. Sometimes one’s duty was unpleasant, yet it must be done. But it was difficult, when she looked at him with those large trusting eyes and all he wanted to do was to protect her. He hardened his heart. She would be hurt, there was no help for it. In any battle there were casualties, it was the nature of war.
They rode westwards, the sun climbing higher in a clear blue sky. Deborah stopped on a slight ridge and pointed.
‘Look, there in the distance is the town of Formby, and do you see the sandhills? Beyond them lies the sea.’
There was an excitement in her voice and the lively anticipation in her face amused Gil. Seeing his smile, she laughed.
‘I have not been to the coast for years. When we were children Ran and I used to come here with Papa. The greatest treat was to call upon one of the local families, where we would dine on shrimp before we returned home.’
He