She nodded and returned to her task, shaking the offending pebble onto the grass then slipping her shoe back onto her foot.
“May I be of assistance?” The voice was cultured and deep and—possibly—containing a slight edge of amusement.
“No thank you.” Charis retied the lace, being careful to keep her skirts modestly pulled down over her ankles.
“Lovely day for a walk.”
“Yes. Isn’t it.”
“Going far?”
Charis stood and straightened her cloak. “Maybe.”
“Chatty little thing, aren’t you?”
Charis grasped her valise and squared her shoulders. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, sir. It’s most improper of you to address me so familiarly.” She turned sharply on her heel and stepped out onto the road to resume her journey. “Good day to you.”
Instead of ending the conversation, however, Charis’ set-down was met with a muffled chuckle. “Easily remedied.” The curricle drew level with Charis and the horses matched her pace, held in check by a firm hand. “I’m St. John Randall. And you are?”
“Going to ignore you.” Charis gritted her teeth and marched on, refusing to be distracted by the fine pair of horses beside her.
“Oh come now. It’s a lovely day, the birds are singing, we’re basking in the sunshine—what’s the harm in telling me your name?”
Oh good grief. Charis closed her eyes and briefly counted to ten. Then she turned to look at him. “The harm, sir, is that should you use my name without an introduction, you’d be doing us both a disservice. And God knows I don’t need any more fuss and bother around me, thank you. And another thing…”
What the other thing might have been was left hanging in the air as Charis got her first real glimpse of Mr St. John Randall. He was smiling at her with eyes the color of rich clover honey, brown and gold in the sunshine. His hair was almost the same shade, dappled here and there with lighter streaks and pulled back casually to the nape of his neck. His teeth were white, his attire neat to a pin—and he took Charis’ breath away.
For about thirty seconds.
She cleared her throat. “And-and-another thing…”Damnation. What was the other thing?“Oh yes. I don’t talk to strange men.”
“I’m not strange. Actually I’m rather boring. Dull even. Ask my friends, they’ll tell you.Frightfully boring fellow, that Sinjun. Straight as an arrow.”
Charis managed to stop the tiny smile that wanted to curl her lips. “Well, this has been a delightful interlude, Mr Randall. However, I’m sure you want to be on your boring way, so…” She waved her hand down the road in a dismissive motion.
“Can’t do it.” He shook his head. “Can’t leave a lovely young lady alone in the wilds of Hampshire. Never know what sort of cad may be lurking behind the hedgerows, you know.”
Charis rolled her eyes. “I doubt there’s a cad within ten miles. Unless you lied about being boring.” She lifted an eyebrow at him, noticing his quick grin at her words.
“Come now. Tell me your name, then I can move on to phase two of my morning’s activities.”
Curious, Charis couldn’t help herself. “Phase two?”
“Getting you up here with me and taking you wherever it is you’re going.” He patted the cushioned seat next to him. “It’s my first time out in this curricle, you know. It won’t be half so much fun if I don’t get to show it off to somebody.”
Charis sighed as she looked at the gorgeous grays harnessed to the shining vehicle. “That is asplendidpair of matched tits.”
Using the stable term unconsciously, she never noticed Sinjun’s gaze drift to her breasts. “Yes, they are, aren’t they?”
“Sweet goers, too, probably?”
“Indubitably. Under the right touch, of course.”
“Yours, I presume?”
“I’m beginning to think so, yes.”
Charis blinked, wondering if the conversation had gone off track somewhat. Riding behind these beauties in this lovely curricle was a really strong inducement. And it would put a lot more distance between her and Aunt Margaret, which would be important. As long as she started to watch for gypsy signs once she reached Lark’s Cross…
“Oh well. You win.” She held out her hand for Sinjun to help her into the curricle. “If you can take me as far as Lark’s Cross, I’ll be very grateful.”
“Happy to.” He smiled and flicked the reins. “And your name?”
“Charis.”
“Mmm. I like that. It meansgracein Greek, you know.”
“So I’ve been told. Sadly, I never quite managed to live up to it.” She leaned back with a sigh and removed her bonnet, letting her cloak drop to the seat as the horses picked up speed. “By God, I knew it. Those are trulyawesometits.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
