“Miss Redfield will be fine.” The dimwitted damsel. She’d likely intended for Rhoda to rip her hem.
Lord Carlisle’s attention turned back to Rhoda. “We need to get you out of that dress.” His ears flushed red. “I mean, you can hardly remain at the gathering looking like that.” He tugged at his cravat. “Allow me, if you will, to escort you to your carriage?”
“Oh, but my mother is here… somewhere.” As a breeze kicked up, she shivered.
“I’ll locate her for you.” He took her by the arm and began walking her to where the carriages waited. “As soon as I get you warmed up.” He completely ignored the fact that he, too, was dripping wet.
“You aren’t cold?” she couldn’t help asking. He was just always so veryniceto her.
She didn’t deserve it.
“I’m fine.” He patted her arm. She felt warmer with him beside her. And since he’d attached himself to her side, the anxiety she’d experienced earlier disappeared. Likely, he’d ignored whatever gossip had caused today’s insults. Or perhaps no one had had the gall to gossip maliciously to the former vicar. He somehow didn’t seem the type to allow society to dictate his actions.
Refreshing.
And yet, his attention seemed suspect somehow.
Was she his current project? But he was no longer a vicar. His vocation no longer dictated that he take pity on the wretched. Something cold curdled around her heart.
He would be at Eden’s Court next week. Although she appreciated his protection, she did not appreciate his pity. She stiffened beside him.
He ought not to waste his time on her. Angelic creatures such as himself deserved to yoke themselves to somebody sweet, pure, and innocent.
Somebody like Emily.
Justin couldn’t believe he’d pulled Miss Mossant into the water after him. He’d tried releasing her hand, but she’d tightened her grip at the exact moment he’d lost his balance.
Had she been trying to save him from falling in? Good heavens. He was likely twice her weight.
Her lovely gown, the one Miss Redfield had envied so, had turned completely transparent. And although she obviously wore other garments beneath it, Justin ought not to have ever seen her… details… so vividly.
As much as he fought the urge, his gaze persisted in drinking her in.
Something about this woman seduced him.
The thought brought him up short. Did he think of her in such terms because of the rumors? He ought not.
No, that wasn’t it.
The woman herself brought the notion to mind. He’d never known another lady like her. Although yet a young miss, foisted, like all the others, onto the marriage mart, her sensual essence contrasted strikingly.
She stiffened beneath his touch, as though reading his mind. She’d been standing alone when he’d located her earlier. And Miss Redfield’s mother had instructed the girl to steer clear.
Likely, the other guests had been snubbing her.
Which gave him another characteristic to admire. Any other chit likely would have run away in tears.
Not Miss Mossant.
He glanced at her sideways. Even after having been dipped unceremoniously into a frigid lake, her looks moved him.
Perhaps more so, for her perfect features took prominence with her hair dripping wet and slicked down her neck and shoulders.
By now, they’d reached the drive. One of the footmen approached quickly. “Have the Mossants’ carriage brought ’round, will you, sir?”
The uniformed man nodded and took off at a run.
Not often, Justin supposed, that his employer’s guests departed dripping wet.
