“Nothing anyone can prove, I assure you, sweet lady.” And then to Anthony he turned a challenging grin. “Where are your manners, dear boy? Introduce us.”
Anthony gritted his teeth. “My brother, James Malory.” Without the slightest change in tone, he added, “And that youngun about to run us down is his son, Jeremy.”
Jeremy drew up at the last second, exhilarated from the ride and the near disaster. He was just in time to hear Roslynn’s comment to James. “Your son? Now why didn’t I guess that?” There was such irony in her voice that no one doubted for a moment that she didn’t believe a word of it.
Jeremy began laughing hilariously. James was rather amused himself. But Anthony was getting angrier by the second. He had known this would happen, but why did it have to happen for the first time with her? And with the young scamp laughing his head off over the misassumption, there was no point in trying to correct it at present.
Roslynn was surrounded by Malorys now and quite wishing she had not been so cavalier in dismissing Timmy’s groom this morning. For a simple ride in the park, she had thought it unnecessary to have a man along for protection. It was something she never did at home. But London was not home.
Anthony seemed to connect with her thoughts. “Have you lost your groom?”
Six-year-old Timmy piped up here. “Ros is my groom and I’m hers. She said all we needed was each other.”
“And who might you be?”
“Lord Grenfell,” Timmy said importantly.
With George Amherst’s blond hair and gray eyes staring up at him, Anthony blundered with a “Know—that is to say, knew your father very well. But the next time Lady Ros thinks to be your groom, you must tell her—”
“I’ve already concluded that the park is not as safe as I had supposed, Sir Anthony,” Roslynn cut in meaningfully. “I assure you I’ll not assume the role again.”
“Glad to hear it, but in the meantime, I’ll escort you home.”
James delighted in pointing out, “I hate to remind you, brother, but you already have one charge to look after. I, on the other hand, am available to see the lady home.”
“The hell you will!” Anthony shot back.
Regina had held back, enjoying this little encounter without being noticed. But since it was about to get out of hand, she finally nudged her horse forward.
“Before you two come to blows, I think it prudent to point out that Jeremy is also available and will do nicely as an escort for such a short distance. And since I was meaning to call on Lady Frances, I think I’ll join them, Tony, so I’ll thank you now for indulging me this morning.” And to Roslynn, belatedly, “Does that meet with your approval?”
Roslynn sighed in relief, for she hadn’t been able to think how to politely refuse either Malory brother after she had already admitted her mistake in riding without an escort. “It does indeed, Lady Eden.”
“Please, m’dear, none of that. You’ll call me Reggie.” She grinned at James before adding, “As most everyone does.”
The remark seemed to improve Anthony’s humor. He was smiling now as he gazed at Roslynn, and what a smile. She had to force herself not to look at him again even as they exchanged words in departure. She had been wise last night to conclude that it would do her no good to see the man again. This encounter, so innocent yet disconcerting, simply reinforced that conclusion.
Anthony, watching the foursome ride away, was quietly contemplating turning Reggie over his knee next time he saw her. “She’s become unbearably bossy since she married Eden.”
“Do you think so?” James chuckled. “Perhaps you just never paid any mind to it before, since it was never you she was bossing around.”
Rubbed raw by James’ humor, Anthony glared at him. “And you—”
James didn’t give him a chance to work up a righteous anger. “Now don’t be tedious, dear boy. After seeing the way she reacted to you, I can see I haven’t much chance of stealing her away.” He turned his horse around, then added with a devilish grin just before he put spurs to him, “But bad odds have never stopped me before.”
Chapter Nine
“You’re being no help a-tall, Frances,” Roslynn complained, mimicking, “‘Go if you like.’ What kind of answer is that, I’d like to be knowing?”
Frances stopped short on the busy walkway fronting the shops on Oxford Street, bringing Nettie plowing into her back for not paying attention. Two packages dropped out of Nettie’s hands, one round hatbox rolling toward the curb. Anne, Frances’ abigail, made a frantic dash for it before it continued into the street. Frances didn’t even notice.
“What’s got into you, Ros? If you’re having such trouble over a simple decision like this, I shudder to think what agonies you’ll go through when it’s time to choose your husband. Either you want to go to the Eden party or you don’t. Yes or no, either or; how much simpler can it be?”
Roslynn grimaced. Frances was right, of course, at least as far as she knew. But then Roslynn hadn’t told her about meeting Anthony Malory at the Crandals’ ball. She had intended to, only their conversation on the way home that night had started by her asking if Lady Eden’s husband had been a rake before they were married.
“He was indeed.”
That answer had been said with such disgust, Roslynn had asked only one more question. “Are they happy together?”
