“But heat is preferable to rain,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
“Oh, absolutely,” she agreed. “But I do think some clouds and some sunshine in equal measure make for the perfect summer day.”
They fell into an easy conversation in which there was not a moment’s silence though nothing of any significance was said. That last fact did not particularly concern him. It was no different from a dozen conversations he held with various people every day. Not all persons could be Miss Martin, after all.
Miss Hunt looked even more lovely out here on the river, the white of her apparel and the delicacy of her complexion in marked contrast with the deep green of the water. He found himself wondering—as he had with Miss Martin—if there was any passion underlying the inbred elegance and refinement of her manner.
He certainly hoped so.
Claudia strode up the sloping lower lawn until the flower gardens and the terrace came into view again. Then she changed direction and headed toward the orchestra. She needed to calm herself before joining her friends. Her body and mind were seething with unfamiliar, and quite unwelcome, emotions and sensations. She felt like a girl again, totally out of control of her own normally tranquil center.
She ought not to have agreed to the boat ride. She actually enjoyed conversing with the Marquess of Attingsborough. He seemed to be an intelligent man, even if hedidlive an essentially idle existence. But he also happened to be easily the most attractive man she had ever encountered—not to mention handsome—and from the start she had been aware of the dangers of his practiced charm. Except that she had been aware of them on Flora and Edna’s behalf during the journey, assuming herself to be immune.
Oh, but shehadenjoyed the boat ride—both the exhilaration of being on the water and actually running her fingers through it and the pleasure of being rowed by a personable man. She had even indulged in a little romantic daydreaming if the truth were known. There she was on a warm summer afternoon boating on the River Thames with a gentleman with whom she had shared laughter both last evening and this morning. She had consciously liked him.
Until he had spoken those words.
…romance does not always have to be sensible.
Sheknewhe had meant nothing by them. Sheknewhe had not been flirting with her. But suddenly fantasy had not remained buried deep in her thoughts but had obviously shown openly on her face for a fraction of a moment—but quite long enough for him to notice.
How horribly, utterly humiliating!
She looked around for a seat on which to relax while listening to the music but, seeing none, she stood on the lawn close to the rose arbor instead.
And if she had not been feeling raw enough with embarrassment—for his silence during the return to shore had clearly indicated that hehadnoticed—there had been that introduction to the Earl and Countess of Sutton and Miss Hunt.
She bristled at the memory. They had behaved justexactlythe way she always expected the aristocracy to behave. Nasty, superior lot! Yet all three of them probably had nothing but fluff between their ears. And money to burn. She despised herself more than she did them for allowing herself to be upset by them.
She applauded politely with a few other guests as the orchestra finished playing one piece and arranged its music for the next.
And then Claudia smiled despite herself. The very ferocity of her indignation amused her. All three of them had appeared to be sniffing the air as if they smelled something nasty. But really they had done her no harm at all. They had done her a favor if anything. They had given her an excuse for getting away from the Marquess of Attingsborough. She had certainly been in need of one. Indeed, she would still be quite happy to dig a hole in the lawn at her feet and stick her head in if someone would just offer her a shovel. Instead, she headed for the rose arbor.
She fervently hoped she would never see the Marquess of Attingsborough ever again.
Some holidaythiswas turning into!
7
“Claudia!”
Even before she reached the rose arbor Claudia heard the sound of her name being called and turned her head to see Susanna hurrying toward her from the direction of the terrace. Peter was some distance behind with Viscount and Viscountess Ravensberg—and Charlie.
“Wherever have you been?” Susanna asked as she came closer. “We have been looking for you. Frances was feeling tired and Lucius has taken her home.”
“Ah. I am sorry to have missed saying farewell to them,” Claudia said. “I have been down by the river.”
“Have you been having a good time?” Susanna asked.
“It is beautiful down there,” Claudia replied. She hesitated. “I have actually beenonthe river. The Marquess of Attingsborough was obliging enough to take me out in one of the boats.”
“How good of him,” Susanna said. “He is an amiable and charming gentleman, is he not? He deserves the very best out of life. I am not sure he will have it with Miss Hunt.”
“Miss Hunt?” Claudia asked, remembering the haughty, beautiful lady dressed all in white who had treated her with such icy civility a short while ago.
Susanna pulled a face.
“She istheMiss Hunt,” she said, and when Claudia looked blankly at her she explained. “MissPortiaHunt. The one Lucius almost married instead of Frances. And now Lauren tells me that Joseph is to marry her. Of course, theydomake a handsome couple.”
