They were now walking side-by-side but with him at a distance from her that could raise no eyebrows or cause a scandal.
'Why must we adjust our behaviour in case someone happens to be looking out of window in your own home? You're the Earl of Avon; you told me in no uncertain terms that you can do as you like. That you don't give a fig for anybody's opinion but your own.'
He chuckled. 'Did I say that? How remiss of me to have given you entirely the wrong impression of how things work. Having lived an entirely isolated life I don't suppose you know that gossip spreads faster via servants than it does by their masters.'
She was still puzzled and couldn't see how this related to them. 'Balderdash, sir, is what you're speaking. You've just dismissed most of your staff and those that remain you assured me earlier wouldn't mention my hideous riding habit. You cannot have it both ways.'
For some reason he glanced at the house and then looked at her strangely, he had that disconcerting glint in his eye. She wished she'd never started this confusing conversation. The shock of almost being trampled a few minutes ago must have addled her wits otherwise she'd never have got into this verbal tangle.
'Now, let me get this straight. If you're saying that you're happy to parade around the place with my arm about your waist for everybody to see, then I've absolutely no objection to that.'
He closed the gap between them with one sideways step and replaced his arm but this time it was different somehow, more intimate, and definitely not something he should be doing.
'Lord Brotherton, unless you intend to make me an offer right here, right now, I suggest you remove your arm and behave yourself. I might not wish to join the marriage mart but I have no wish to lose my reputation.'
To her horror he spun her around, clasped both her hands in his and dropped to one knee in a dramatic fashion. Her heart all but stopped.
'Dearest Sofia, would you do me the honour of becoming my countess?'
