‘I’m sure he will, but he certainly won’t be mine.’
‘Strong men don’t have anything to prove, so he’ll treat his lady like a queen, I’m thinking.’
‘I dare say. I’ll dance at his wedding when it comes.’
‘Happen you’ll do it with a heavy heart, then,’ Janet insisted.
‘Nonsense. I’ll wish him very happy.’
‘Aye, and so will I—supposing he weds the right lady,’ Janet agreed, with a significant look at her former mistress.
‘Today, however, I wish him at Jericho. So, unless you have any other plans for the rest of my life to discuss, I’ll take myself off and be in good time for my dinner for once.’
‘Sir Adam has the look of a very determined gentleman,’ Janet observed with some satisfaction.
‘And I’m an equally determined lady,’ Serena declared firmly, hoping that was the last she would hear of the subject. Sir Adam had taken up too much of her day already, and she didn’t care to grant him any more of it.
‘There now—even you admit how well matched you are, Lady Serena. Fate. That’s what it is.’
‘It’s wishful thinking, and next time I come I hope you’re thinking straighter.’
Janet put her head on one side, as if to deliberate better—a sign that a pearl of wisdom was about to fall. ‘With respect, my lady, it’s your thoughts that have got out of the way of running true, and we both know why.’
‘Maybe, but luckily I’m in too much haste to stay and argue with you today, Janet. So, if there is nothing else you want to lecture me about, we can have a really good dispute about it another day.’
Giving her tenacious ex-maid a quick peck on the cheek, Serena hurried out of the neat house on the village green before Janet could regroup. Only twenty minutes had gone by, so she could set out for Windham with impunity. She had never asked Sir Adam to treat her as if she were a young miss just out of the schoolroom, so a few minutes cooling his heels outside Janet’s house might prevent him repeating that particular error.
Chapter Three
One more turn in the village street and Serena would be alone in open country. Or at least she would be, had Sir Adam not been sitting in his curricle, waiting for her to appear, like a rather handsome spider in the midst of a well-spun web. How had the wretched man managed to summon up such a neat equipage at short notice? she wondered crossly.
‘You’re late, Lady Summerton,’ he said, by way of greeting.
‘I’m ten minutes early,’ she was flustered into saying. Then could have kicked herself for making it sound as if their assignation existed anywhere but in his head.
‘On the contrary, you’re at least five minutes after I expected you,’ he argued. ‘If you wanted to confound me, you should have slipped out of your friend’s back door.’
It was quite true; the shortcut across the fields would have got her to Windham much more quickly and he would never have seen her. Whatever had she been thinking of not to use it? Did a secret, rebellious part of her really want his company so badly that quarrelling with him was preferable to not seeing him at all? Next time there was the least chance of avoiding him she must seize it determinedly—if only to prove to herself he meant nothing to her. Maybe then he would take the hint and stop plaguing her.
She was so sunk in gloom at this happy notion that she let him hand her into his curricle before she noticed she was doing as he had planned all along.
‘I haven’t the least wish to ride home with you,’ she protested idiotically, and she didn’t need his amused grin to feel a fool when she was doing such a good job by herself.
‘Your reluctance is duly noted,’ he said solemnly, and set his team in motion.
‘And you fully intend to ignore it?’
‘Precisely. The fact that you’re here speaks for itself.’
‘You are ungallant, Sir Adam.’
‘And you’re in the mood to argue with your own nose today, my lady.’
‘I’m not considered in the least contrary by anyone else I know,’ she told him between clenched teeth.
‘Of course not. You’re far too busy trying to please them all to argue with anybody. Which makes me wonder why you resist my perfectly natural wish to make your life more comfortable so stubbornly.’
‘I have an aversion to being managed, and milk-and-water misses get trampled all over,’ she said with an audible sniff.
‘How would you know?’
‘I have observed it,’ she said, and shivered.
‘Cold, my dear?’
‘No, and I’m not your dear.’
‘Even you can’t police my thoughts, Lady Summerton,’ he said, with that wicked glint back in eyes she had no intention of meeting, despite the shiver of awareness that shot through her at the intriguing idea of reading those thoughts there.
‘Then pray govern your tongue, Sir Adam,’ she said primly, fervently hoping her waspishness would divert him from the silly blush that had stolen over every exposed inch of skin.
‘I’ll endeavour to do so, my lady,’ he said smoothly, sounding not in the least bit chastened as he gave his pair the office to trot.
Something told her their thoughts were in a most embarrassing harmony on the forbidden subject of her finding out just what it might be like to be mercilessly ravished by the handsome, intelligent and uniquely intriguing gentleman who was Sir Adam Langthorne. She felt ridiculously ignorant of such sensual delights, and she was quite certain they would indeed be almost too delightful. He might be arrogant, and far too certain that he knew best, but she suspected he’d be a lover to eclipse all others. Not that she intended taking any more. Appalled at the direction of her own unwary thoughts, she mentally corrected herself. No, she never intended taking any lovers.
Not that he wouldn’t be a magnificent lover, she conceded silently. It was there in his heated appreciation of her, the way his eyes lingered on her slender curves and played over her slightly too generous mouth, as if intent on reassuring her that their pleasure would be absolutely mutual when she finally yielded to him. She believed it emphatically. It had been quite a revelation when she’d first caught the feral gleam in his dark and light eyes, and a warm shudder shook her at the memory of the flowering of heat it had awakened in her wilful body. Considering they could never be more than neighbours, however he might persuade her, such thoughts really were no help in her battle with her baser impulses. And neither was he, she decided militantly, as she once more caught that look of sensual amusement on his far too fascinating mouth, as if he could read her struggle with the ultimate temptation in her stormy eyes.
‘We’re going the wrong way,’ she informed him stiffly.
‘Not if we intend going via Thornfield Churchyard.’
‘Well, I certainly have no wish to visit the wretched place.’
‘It’s not dark, and you have told me many other things I intend to disprove today, my lady, so we might as well start with Thornfield and work our way down the list.’
‘No, let’s go to Windham Dower House instead, so I can take my leave of you, Sir Adam. Once I’m home you can chase ghosts all day and night with my heartfelt blessing. Take half the neighbourhood with you, as long as you leave me out of it.’
‘Shush. We’re nearly there, and you really shouldn’t be so uncivil to your neighbours—myself included.’
‘I won’t hush, and I like being uncivil. I didn’t want to come and