“I shouldn’t have left you,” Mr. Grey said.
Anne waved it aside. “Nonsense, Mr. Grey. You had no idea Lord Manning would attempt something so ridiculous.”
“I will escort Miss Weatherby back,” the grump said.
“We can’t leave Mr. Grey and Miranda alone.” Anne peered over her shoulder and glowered at the dolt. Really, what was he thinking?
“Well, we certainly can’t continue the ridewith Anne on Lord Manning’s lap,” Miranda said, her lips twitching upward. “We shouldallreturn to the house.”
Mr. Grey lifted a hand, indicating Miranda should lead, then followed behind her.
Waiting by the stables, a groom held Dolly’s reins. The recalcitrant beast had the nerve to whinny at Anne as they approached.
Mr. Grey dismounted and approached, assisting Anne off Lord Grump’s lap. Anne had never been so glad to have her feet back on solid ground, and she threaded her arm through Mr. Grey’s. “Well, that was horrible.”
He chuckled softly. “I’m glad you weren’t injured in your fall.”
She glared at Lord Moody-Manning. “No thanks to Lord Manning.”
The object of her ire slid from his horse with more liquid grace than she wanted to admit. “I’ve told you I didn’t know the horse was nappy.”
“Well, you should have realized it.”
“Fine. Blame me.”
She jerked her chin at him. “I will.”
The four of them walked in silence toward Hartridge House, and Anne tried in vain not to look at Lord Grump’s broad shoulders as he strode before her. Relief flooded her when the house came into view. She would find another way to occupy herself that didn’t involve the mercurial man.
Squeals of girlish laughter drifted toward them. A group formed a circle around something that had fully captured the attention of all the children present, even little Lady Kitty and Lady Nora, who both toddled around on chubby legs, with Nora promptly falling on her cloth-padded bottom. Honoria held little Henry—or rather Lord Langford, as the nine-month-old infant held the courtesy title of Marquess of Langford—who squirmed and made grabby hands toward whatever held everyone in such fascination.
How Honoria managed to stay so vibrant and happy, Anne had no idea. The girls were barely fourteen months apart, and Henry had been born only sixteen months after Nora.
Anne’s own mama had often stated having Andrew and Arthur two years apart had nearly been the death of her. Perhaps remaining unmarried wasn’t such a bad thing.
A man Anne didn’t recognize stood to the side, his hands on his hips. Older than the other men present, he gazed up from the center of attraction, then said something to Honoria.
“Oh, Miranda, Anne, Colin, Mr. Grey, come see what Mr. Ford has brought Drake!” Honoria said as they approached.
Cassie and Ellie raced toward their father. “Oh, Papa, he’s adorable,” Cassie said as she grasped the grump’s hand and pulled him forward.
Ellie took his other hand and evened out the tugging. “Cassie and I want one.”
“What do you suppose it is?” Anne asked Mr. Grey.
A high-pitched bark answered her question before Mr. Grey had a chance, and the circle of people parted to reveal a spaniel puppy who frolicked from person to person.
Oh, but Cassie was right; itwasadorable. Anne quickened her pace, careful to keep it from being a full-on run. No doubt if she did, Lord Manning would throw her to the ground again, claiming she was about to cause injury to the crowd.
“He’s a gift from Mr. Ford for Drake’s birthday,” Honoria said as Anne crouched down to pet the puppy.
Tiny paws clawed at her skirts, and she stooped down farther. “Aren’t you precious.” Using its pink tongue, the pup covered her face with little dog kisses. Giggles erupted spontaneously, and she forgot her frustrating ride on Dolly and her previously sour mood.
Squatting beside her, Ellie gave the puppy’s head a gentle pat. “What are you going to name him, Uncle Drake?”
Anne gazed up at Burwood.
“Well, if it wouldn’t bring back too many uncomfortable memories, Mother, I was thinking I would call him Flash.”
