Chapter Four #2
She chuckled quietly, more charmed and amused by their conversation than she’d like to let on. “Hmm, perhaps. Though I have found, more often than not, it is less a pretense and more a disheartening lack of awareness.”
He glanced at her with elated surprise. “Another truth. I must say, Mrs. MacLaren,” he said leaning in a bit closer, “I find myself delighted that we seem to be of much the same mind.”
“Is it so rare an occurrence?” she asked, brows raised.
“Surprisingly, yes. I often find myself in the minority of popular opinion.”
She watched him for a moment, brow slightly furrowed.
“What is it?” he asked.
She was silent a moment more, then lightly shrugged a shoulder and resumed walking. “I am trying to determine if you are being truthful or merely facetious.”
He blinked at her, likely surprised at her bluntness.
“I assure you, I am many things, but I am always truthful. Painfully so, my mother often tells me.”
Selena smiled, remembering her own mother’s warnings against her speaking her mind so blatantly time and time again. Another commonality between them, it seemed.
But while Selena had attempted to curb her tongue in her youth, she was now a widow several times over with no desire or wish for remarriage, one who had the means to live comfortably enough on her own terms. Frankly, while much about her circumstances distressed her, she found a great deal of it freeing.
Speaking her mind as she pleased was the silver lining on a very large cloud, and she had every intention of exploiting it often.
“I am glad to hear it, my lord,” she said. “Though I must say, I am surprised. As a wealthy, powerful man…”
He grinned and bowed his head toward her as if she’d just complimented him instead of stating a fact.
“…Surely most people fall over backwards to parrot your opinion.”
He chuckled. “Well, I will admit to a certain amount of that, I suppose. In the interest of truth,” he said, drawing a grateful nod from her. “I do pride myself, however, on spotting such disingenuity, and paying it no mind.”
“A refreshing position, my lord.”
And it was. She’d met precious few men who did not enjoy a little sycophantic validation at least on occasion.
They passed by a trio of women sitting on a bench and Lord Lockhaven smiled politely, giving them a nod when they tittered and aimed flirtatious grins his way.
But those expressions became decidedly colder when Selena nodded politely as well.
Lockhaven turned his attention back to their path, though his hand quickly darted toward the monstrous bonnet overflowing with flowers and ribbons that one of the women wore.
Selena glanced at him, eyes narrowed. What had he just done?
He waited a few moments until they had fully passed the women and then he glanced down at her with a mischievous smile. “For my lady,” he said, presenting her a flower with a gallant flourish.
A flower that had previously been perched upon the head of one of the waspish misses.
Selena clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter, but accepted his offering with a smile of thanks.
The man was a rascal, through and through. Which only made her like him all the more.
Lord Lockhaven was proving increasingly dangerous by the minute.
Not only did they seem to have a great deal in common, but she genuinely enjoyed his company.
And that alarmed her so much more than if he’d just been a handsome face.
A handsome face, she could ignore. Theoretically.
A handsome face backed by a sharp mind and delightful presence?
That was decidedly more difficult to disregard.
“Oh dear, Old Thackery is being a nuisance again,” he said, drawing her from her thoughts.
“Old Thackery?”
“Hmm,” he said, pointing to an area a few dozen feet away where a cantankerous old goose had begun flapping his wings and chasing a child about the lawn’s edge.
His nursemaid was shouting in French at the crusty old bird, waving her apron at it in an apparent attempt to get the thing to fly off.
Instead, she only seemed to be angering it further.
Lord Lockhaven let out chest-rumbling laugh. “I shall return momentarily,” he said, though Selena barely heard him through the blood thundering through her system.
Lockhaven approached the melee and began herding the goose away from the child enough that his nursemaid could gather him up.
And then he laughingly ran as the goose turned its attentions on him.
Onlookers laughed, pointing and cheering at the ridiculous sight of a grown man, running, knees exaggeratingly high, while a furious goose honked in displeasure at his heels.
Lord Goodwin and Jane had stopped a few feet ahead of her, laughing along with the others.
Selena blinked, her gaze jerking toward the sound of hoofbeats.
A rider approached, trotting faster than was prudent along the clogged lanes of Rotten Row.
And Lord Lockhaven continued to run right toward the path, looking over his shoulder at the goose who pursued him, instead of ahead, at the danger that waited.
A danger that had already taken one man from her. Images from her wedding day to Louis flashed through her mind, stoking the dread building in her gut. Honking geese, stampeding horses, a runaway carriage…and her poor Louis, not seeing any of it until it was too late.
She stumbled forward several steps, hand outraised. “Attention! Le cheval!” she yelled, her panic reverting her speech to the French the nursemaid also shouted. “Le cheval! Le cheval!”
*
Edward looked at Mrs. MacLaren and then glanced over his shoulder at where she was gesturing.
There was, indeed, a horse and rider bearing down on him.
Though not so quickly or closely as might warrant the frantic tone in her voice.
Rather careless of him to not take more notice of his surroundings, granted.
But she did seem quite a bit more distressed than he thought necessary.
Hmm, perhaps she was more interested in him than she tried to let on.
Her refusal to receive him during calling hours still stung.
But she was obviously concerned for his safety.
Overly so, truth be told. Surely that meant something.
He stepped out of the way, clapped his hands one final time at the goose to shoo it back toward the pond, and then looked up to flash a grin at Mrs. MacLaren.
Only to find her whispering with Mrs. Haddon.
She did glance up at him once, her face paling when their eyes met.
And she attempted to return some semblance of a smile.
Briefly. Before she turned back to her friend.
Anthony came to stand beside him, though his eyes were trained on the women.
“Any idea what that’s all about?” Edward asked, nodding toward them.
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Perhaps your company has finally worn her down, and she’s begging to make her escape.”
Edward scoffed. “We were having a quite pleasant conversation, I’ll have you know, before the goose decided to—”
He stopped, watching dumfounded as Mrs. MacLaren turned on her heels and hurried away, dragging Mrs. Haddon behind her.
“You were saying?” Anthony said, amusement coating his words.
Edward shook his head. “Whatever is the matter with the woman?”
“I told you,” Anthony said with a chuckle. “She’s likely had her fill of your presence and is taking advantage of the goose to escape.”
Edward frowned, not believing that was truly what had just happened, though it certainly seemed that way.
“So odd,” he muttered. “Things were going so well.”
Anthony snorted. “If that is your definition of ‘going well,’ I’d hate to see your version of disastrous.”
Edward glared at him, which only made Anthony laugh harder.
“Come along, Lockhaven. I’m hungry. Let’s see if your cook has any more of those little cakes that I like.”
“Always thinking with your stomach,” Edward said, rolling his eyes to the heavens. He could use some cake, though. Perhaps it would soothe his bruised ego. He’d never had a woman literally run from him before. The sensation was both odd and wholly unappealing.
As before, he could only hope their paths would cross again and hope for a better outcome. Though it could hardly end worse.