“You did.”
“You must have misheard me,” she said, waving her hand.
“No, on that count I am quite sure of myself.”
She chewed her lip, watching as a duck flipped over, burying its head beneath the surface. If only she could be so lucky. “Very well,” she said, bringing her gaze back to him. “What is it you wish to ask concerning my remark?”
He regarded her carefully, and she felt trapped in his gaze. “I hate to even think it, but what other purpose would a lady have in doing such a thing other than attempting to trap a man into marriage?”
Hannah scoffed, then dipped her chin as she lowered her voice. “Fine. I admit I did it intentionally. But not for the reason you suppose.” How forward he must think her. How brazen and unladylike. “I was trying to help you.”
“Help me?” His eyes bulged, making him appear quite the madman when paired with his hair. Hannah could feel the urge to laugh bubbling up in her chest, but she did her best to push it down.
“Yes,” she continued, swallowing the tickle in her throat. “You were about to go after that young woman.”
“And?” He twirled his hand in the air, beckoning her to explain further.
“And I knew that would be a mistake, so my feet compelled me forward. And—into you,” she ended pitifully.
“Mistake—” He propped his hands on his hips, rolling his head. “Miss Gibbons, in what way did that help anyone?”
“I stopped you, clearly.”
His mouth fell open, and he pulled his head back slightly. “Please excuse me if I do not think it was your place to interfere. If I had gotten to her and she had heard me out, perhaps—”
“Nothing would have changed.”
He shook his head, running a hand over his face before bringing it back to his hip. “You do not know that. Perhaps if I’d had a chance to talk to her, we could have understood one another better.”
“And has she spoken to you since then? Responded to any of the letters you have sent?”
He leaned forward. “How did you know I wrote to her?”
Hannah forced her eyes not to roll. “That is not the point. The point is that I did what I did—”
“Ran into me—”
“Tohelpyou.”
Lord Noah looked off at the pond, his chest rising at a steady rhythm.
“Please,” Hannah continued. “I have not explained myself well, but trust that my actions—though unconventional—were done with the intention to save you from further embarrassment or heartache.”
At this, he peered at her from the corner of his eye. “You seem convinced she would not have changed her mind.”
“I know women like her,” Hannah added. “I do not think your pleas would have proven fruitful.”
Silence descended between them, and they let the sounds of their surroundings fill the void. Birds chirped above, wind whistled through the reeds in the pond and leaves in the trees. And the sound that hurt Hannah’s heart—the lightly ragged breath of the man before her.
“Well,” Lord Noah finally said, his voice rough. “I suppose I should thank you.” Just as Hannah opened her mouth to refute him, he continued. “Though perhaps you could have chosen a less violent method.”
Her lip twitched. “What else was I to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps go back inside and dance? I feel as if charging like a bull toward a man with a broken heart was not the correct choice.” If he was frustrated, the slight curve of his lip defied it.
“I am a bit impulsive, but that is my biggest flaw, Lord Noah.” She crossed her arms. “I do not go about trapping innocent men into marriage. In fact, I have no need for such drastic measures. I am a wealthy heiress.” Goodness, how conceited she sounded. And the words were not completely true. For while she was a wealthy heiress, no man had stuck around long enough to make her an actual proposal. At twenty years old, she was not worried over such things just yet, though her parents certainly seemed to be.
Lord Noah sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I apologize, Miss Gibbons. I do not normally jump to such conclusions, but with the nature of the evening, I did not know quite what to think.” He turned, striking a hand out to her. “Shall we call a truce and be friends?”
