She adjusted the brim of her outdated bonnet; her cheeks flushed a vivid pink.
Langdon’s racing heart skipped a beat as he met her rattled stare. Why she would have this kind of effect on him was unnerving. Mrs. Adare wasn’t fashionable or sophisticated like Maria had been, but captured his attention.
The rider of the horse came limping toward them, his once fashionable attire ruined beyond repair by the manure that had saved his life. “Thank you for capturing my horse, I . . .” He spied Elizabeth and halted. His broad, reddened face hardened, and he pointed an accusing finger at her. “You! This is all your fault. If you had watched where you were going, none of this would have happened.”
All color drained from her face at the harsh words. She lifted her stubborn chin.
“None of this would have happened if you could control this animal.” Langdon shielded her with his taller frame, his admiration for her growing. “Given the extent of the damage he caused, I would advise two things, the first being you think twice before riding such a high-strung beast through the busy streets of London, and the second that you take your horse and leave before the two angry men coming this way get here.”
The man cast a quick look behind him to see the truth of his statement, and blanched under the grime covering his face. After one last disgusted look at Elizabeth, he followed Langdon’s advice, and, taking his horse, fled.
Langdon grasped her elbow to lead her down the street and away from the scene of chaos she’d caused. “Mrs. Adare, I am sorry you had to be subjected to that.”
“To what?” Confusion creased her brow under the bland bonnet. A stray curl had come loose from its mooring and looped around her ear. Raven black, it was in direct contrast with the paleness of her skin.
“To his rude behavior.” He had a mad urge to tuck the hair back into place. Hands resting on his hips, he wrenched his attention away from her and scanned the still chaotic street. The dray wagon had since moved on and the liveried driver returned to his perch, his thin lips pinched.
“It was nothing,” she murmured and added in an even lower voice, which was filled with shame, “The whole incident was my fault.”
How could one small woman cause such chaos? His sense of the ridiculous warred with his earlier fury over the man’s callous conduct. “His behavior was inexcusable, and now that I think on it, I shouldn’t have warned him of the impending disaster.”
“I think being thrown face first into a dung cart is ample punishment for the insult.” Elizabeth raised mischievous eyes the color of a newly unfurled leaf to him, causing an unexplained hitch in his breath. The smile which followed melted even more of his resolve to remain detached from her appealing countenance.
“I would have to agree, Mrs. Adare.” He returned the smile; his mood lightened by her impish humor.
Thick lashes blocked her eyes from his view.
Langdon stared down at her bare foot and cringed at the shape of her wool stocking soiled by the muddy street. He cleared his throat and pointed to the shoe she still clutched in her hand. “Mrs. Adare, perhaps it would be best if you put on your shoe before we went any further.”
“Yes, that would be wise, wouldn’t it?”
He held out his arm, and she lay her gloved hand on it for balance.
She dropped the abused walking shoe on the cobblestone and slipped it on, wincing as she did so. “I seem to have developed a blister.”
“You’re hurt. Let me hail a hackney.” He glanced around, looking for one of the many equipages that were available for hire. With all the drama of the last few minutes, she might appreciate the relative quiet of a carriage.
“Not for me, thank you.” She shook her head, a panicked look passing across her features. “My uncle’s house is only a few blocks away. A hackney would be a waste of time.”
Most of the ladies in his acquaintance didn’t walk in the city for various reasons. London could be dangerous for the innocent and unwary. Mrs. Adare was an enigma and from what he’d observed so far, fearless. “Then let us be off.”
“Us?” Tiny lines appeared between her eyes as she removed her hand from his arm. “While I appreciate your earlier help, my lord, there is no need for you to accompany me further.”
It was his turn to frown at her vehement refusal of his offer. “But there is. We, Mrs. Adare, have much to discuss.”
“Discuss? What more do we possibly have to discuss?” She shot the down the street before he could plan a reply, purpose in her stride.
“The situation at Upper Waverley, perhaps?” He was forced to lengthen his pace to keep up with her. What a contradiction she was proving to be. One moment, she was clearly shaken by events, the next she espoused a bit of dry humor at the absurdity of the circumstances.
For a tiny thing, she had a brisk walk full of purpose. “Stanton refused to help me,” she said.
“He said he told your cousin. Maybe you should ask Farnsworth to assist.” Langdon was acquainted with Farnsworth and socialized in the same circles, but they weren’t close friends. They had worked together to bring down a spy and he would consider it an honor to work with him again if the situation warranted.
She waved a dismissive hand, a scowl twisting her lips. “It is none of his affair.”
“But he is the heir to the property.” Brow wrinkled, he stepped around a pile of discarded leaves and tried to maintain his even pace with her.
The more agitated she became, the faster she walked. She pressed her lips together and released an unladylike snort. It was more than obvious there was no love lost between the cousins. “So everyone keeps reminding me. Besides, what can Farnsworth do to resolve the issue? I need the full resources of the home department.”
