Priscilla rolled her lips together, feeling guilty. It would be the second pair of boots he’d ruined since meeting her.
She’d, quite honestly, been nothing but trouble for him. Allison’s dowry must be massive. Otherwise, she couldn’t imagine why Lord Hardwood would persist in his desire to go through with the betrothal.
Edgeworth was on Hardwood’s opposite side now, and as the three of them would require the entire width of the trail, Priscilla scurried to Chloe’s side so the two of them could lead the way.
Chloe hooked her arm in Priscilla’s with a huff. “What were you thinking?” she whispered.
“It was only a walk.” Priscilla dipped her chin. “I hate this. I hate all of this.”
“I know. And I can only imagine how much this upsets you. Why didn’t you wake me this morning? Oh, Prissy, we’d have been much better off if either I or Addy could have played the part. Primm ought to have realized you’re far too sensitive for this sort of thing.”
“I’m not too sensitive,” Priscilla protested. She hated that her dearest friends had reason to doubt her. Because if she failed, and Allison spread word of the scandal, and if students dropped out of the school, they all stood to lose their positions. And Primm would lose her school. “I’ve refused him multiple times already. I simply need to keep right on refusing him.”
They paused to turn around to see how the gentlemen fared behind them.
Thank heavens his capable friends had arrived when they had. Lord Hardwood’s complexion was so pale it was almost gray, and that was being practically carried up.
“We’re going to go ahead,” Chloe declared, all but dragging Priscilla along. “We’ll have Lady Hardwood send for a doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” Lord Hardwood muttered as she increased her pace to keep up with Chloe.
“Well,” Damien said from beside Hunt as the three of them watched the two women’s swishing skirts disappear ahead of them. “That’s one way to win her over. Make her feel so sorry for you that she hasn’t the heart to reject you again.”
“And dash it all, next time your Miss Meadowbrook makes a break from her chaperone, some advance notice would be appreciated.” Edge groused. “That blasted bluestocking nearly took my head off when she found me in the breakfast room.”
“You looked like a frightened kitten standing there when I walked in.” Damien laughed. “‘I assure you, miss, I had no idea.’” He mimicked Edgeworth’s more resounding voice. “You should have seen him, Hunt. Our fearless captain was shaking in his boots.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Blood,” Edge said.
“Ha!” The three of them took a particularly narrow turn. “Easy now, I’ve not much space over here.”
“I’d rather take that tumble than be cornered by that woman again,” Edge groused.
Even Hunt had to laugh at this.
Ever since his friend had returned from military skirmishes abroad, there hadn’t been a single eligible lady who hadn’t fawned over him.
It didn’t matter that Edgeworth was only second in line to a baron. His dark good looks and military accolades, not to mention the colors he usually wore, had made him irresistible to debutantes, widows, and even a few married ladies.
Edge had been happy to take advantage of that benefit.
And that made Miss Fortune’s no-nonsense manner with him even more entertaining.
“Say, there’s an idea,” Damien said. “Keep the chaperone occupied. Gives Hunt more opportunities to win over Meadowbrook’s daughter.
“Why don’t you occupy her?” Edge asked.
“I don’t have the temperament to go up against that one,” Damien said, and Hunt couldn’t help but agree. No, Damien was a true gentleman. That Miss Fortune woman would undoubtedly roll right over any efforts Damian dared to distract her from protecting Miss Meadowbrook.
“She’s the worst sort of woman. Thinks she knows what’s best—doesn’t make proper conversation. It’s no wonder she teaches. No man in his right mind would want to take her on.” Edgeworth huffed.
Hunt’s friend didn’t usually have strong opinions one way or another regarding most women. Odd, that. Although Edgeworth’s annoyance was understandable since the woman had interrupted his morning coffee.
“Do you think it’s broken?” Damien changed the subject.
Decades ago, Hunt had fallen out of a tree and experienced a similar injury. “Fairly certain it’s only a sprain.”
“Even that limits the more effective courting tactics. Dancing, riding, walking alone with her through the galleries…”
