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Merry stood, her mouth agape, as Lord Brandon gave her a short two-finger salute and hurried to the house.
“Excuse me, Your Grace, but I would prefer to answer for myself.”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t even know, do you?” She shook her head. “Lord Brandon just asked me if I minded him not riding with me, and you answered.”
“Do you mind him not accompanying you?” He looked genuinely confused.
“That is not the point.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “What is the point?”
“Never mind. This conversation is a waste of words.” Before he could assist her, she stepped on the block and settled on the sidesaddle, adjusting the deep blue skirts of her riding habit over her legs.
Penrose gracefully mounted his horse and took up the reins. “Are you ready? I wouldn’t want to start off without asking.”
Merry smirked. “Yes. I’m ready.”
They rode side-by-side down the path leading from the house, neither one aware of the narrowed eyes watching them from the schoolroom window.
Despite the cold, late fall air, the sun shone in the rarely clear sky, reaffirming Penrose’s decision to begin taking morning rides. Lord, he missed this. For a while he could forget his duties and just enjoy a ride with a beautiful woman at his side.
And beautiful she was. Her velvet riding habit hugged her curves delightfully. The deep blue brought out the color of her eyes, which sparkled with pleasure as she inhaled deeply, causing his attention to shift to her breasts. Just the right size for his hands, he imagined their silky softness.
“Do you ride every day, Your Grace?”
Her question drew him from his reverie. “No. In fact this is the first time I’ve ridden for pleasure in a while.” He slanted a look at her. “I thought we agreed last night to dispense with ‘Your Grace’?”
“’Tis not proper. You are my employer.”
“Not so. You are employed by my mother who, as I’m sure she’s told you with a great deal of satisfaction, has her own funds to do with as she wishes.”
“True. But I am not of your world.”
He grinned. “You sound like Miss Jennings.”
“The perfect governess?” Her eyebrows rose, one side of her mouth tilted.
Ready to take umbrage at her remark, instead he threw his head back and laughed. “Miss Jennings may be aware of your position in life, but I believe you are not.”
She bristled. “I understand your class structure, I’m no fool. However, as I was not raised with all the nuances your way clings to, and being from America where one is judged by what one does, not by one’s birth, I find it hard to swallow.”
“Ah yes, the American method. Anyone of ability may rise to the top.”
Merry drew her shoulders back. “And a fine system it is
.”
He grinned. “As you say.”
God, how he loved baiting her. She was all spit and fire. Right now her eyes flashed and two bright red spots appeared on her cheeks. Her chest heaved, bringing his attention once again to those delectable breasts. If he didn’t get himself under control soon, the ride would be a tad uncomfortable.
All the women of his acquaintance, including the young misses of the Marriage Mart he stopped visiting a few years ago, fell at his feet and agreed with everything he said. He was used to tittering, flirting, adoration, and admiring glances cast above silk fans. Merry Chambers did none of that, and he found the change refreshing. Frustrating as the devil, though. The woman did not know her place.
“Shall we give the horses their head?” Merry asked, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
He swept his arm out. “Lead on.”
