Chapter Eight
ROBERT COULDN’T SHAKE HISdark mood. He was being a poor companion, but how could he be otherwise? The knowledge of Dunreid’s gift to Miss Glasbarr, and seeing the way she ogled his expensive curricle, had put him in a terrible frame of mind. He’d thought her better, that she would not be so easily swayed by a show of wealth.
Then, they’d reached the park and he could read her envy. She wished for gowns, hats and jewels, just as any other young Miss did. Her sigh belied her talk of art and music. Her avarice soured him. She wasn’t the woman he’d thought.
She spoke not of envy, but of fear she fell short compared to the ladies about them, but that was absurd. Surely, closeted in a school of young women, she had ample opportunity to compare herself and realize her beauty. Dressed to the height of fashion or in a secondhand frock, not a one of them could equal Miss Glasbarr. For her to be unaware of that was impossible.
Robert worked to ease the tension in his jaw. She also denied keeping Dunreid’s present, more a payment for future sins than a gift, as she must know. Could he believe her? He would not see another woman plucked from him by Dunreid.
He flicked the reins to increase their pace.
Plucked not fromhim. From hiscare. He wasn’t courting her, he was her chaperone. Why had he permitted Stirling to talk him into such a ridiculous task? Robert knew nothing about finding a match for a young woman. He couldn’t even find a match for himself.
“You wish to take the turn at a faster pace?” Miss Glasbarr asked. “I feel that’s contrary to what most do.”
On top of fortune hunting, she would criticize how he handled his team? “Would you care to drive?”
She turned wide eyes on him, bright with surprise and…eagerness? “You would permit me? Only, they’re such a fine team. I’ve never had the opportunity to handle Cleveland Bays.”
By God, she did wish to drive. Eyebrows raised, he proffered the reins. Hopefully, doing so wasn’t the most foolish decision of his life.
Her happy smile as she accepted the reins was an instant reward, and sapped some of his ire. Her hazel eyes, which reflected the colors of park and sky, were utterly guileless. Hands sure, she guided his bays. In moments, he garnered her competence.
Free of the duty of manning his spirited team, he studied the young woman beside him. Golden curls bounced in concert with the movement of the curricle. Straight backed, she perched on the edge of the seat, excitement at being permitted to drive clear, though she kept her hands soft on the reins. She looked like a child who’d just been handed a longed-for kitten. Eager, but gentle.
Robert rubbed the back of his neck, in attempt to ease the tension there. He was being a fool. He’d let Cinthia and her wiles snake into his thoughts and make him see treachery and avarice where none existed. Miss Glasbarr, in her obviously second-hand gown, stitched over to resemble city fashion, was quite young. He knew enough about women and their insecurities to believe she feared being overlooked.
Rather than dwell in that dark place where Cinthia’s conniving heart lived, he should attempt to improve Miss Glasbarr’s confidence. Convince her that she would never be out shown. Only a fool wouldn’t recognize her sweetness and beauty. Of course, most young men qualified as fools.
Reminded of his duty, Robert looked about him at the other gentlemen in the park. Quite a few eyed Miss Glasbarr in appreciation, while others were obviously incredulous to see her with the reins. A glance showed her oblivious. Expression cheerful, she guided his team along the park avenues nearly as well as he would.
“There’s Mister Campbell,” Robert said. “You danced with him. Perhaps we should say hello?”
Miss Glasbarr turned her head toward Campbell and frowned. Robert wondered if she wasn’t as sure with his team as she seemed. To bring the bays around and then merge back into the parade, coming up alongside Campbell’s gilded cabriolet, would be tricky.
“I think I should rather keep going the way we are,” she said. “Would that be ungrateful of me, after you went to the trouble of introducing us?”
“I can bring the curricle around, if that’s your worry,” Robert offered.
She shot him a surprised look. “Oh, no, that isn’t the trouble. It’s his horse.”
“You don’t care for him?” She definitely hadn’t ogled his team if she couldn’t see how fine Campbell’s horseflesh was.
“He’s splendid, but a Thoroughbred stallion hitched to a cabriolet for a ride in the park? That’s criminal. That horse was born to race and jump. I can’t possibly become engaged to a man who would hook him to a glorified, gold-encrusted cart.”
Robert laughed. She cast him a wide-eyed glance. Her cheeks reddened, but still he laughed. She was so clearly offended. Twin lines appeared on her brow. Her outrage was adorable. His desire to contain his amusement was difficult as her words mirrored his opinion.
“It isnae funny,” Miss Glasbarr said. “If he could handle the creature, hooking that stallion to a cart might be somewhat excused, but he’s obviously a danger to everyone around him.”
Robert laughed harder. Tears blurred his vision. He was aware of scandalized looks from anyone near enough to hear, but he couldn’t stop. How long since he’d laughed? Barring the occasional chuckle, years, he was certain.
“I’m glad you find the impending rampage of a Thoroughbred through Edinburgh’s gentry amusing.” Her tone was light. She offered him a tentative smile.
Robert replied with one of his own, still chuckling. “Drive on then, dear lady, and we’ll see if we meet a gentleman whose team, gig and skills meet with your approval.”
“Very well, then.” She flicked the reins lightly. His bays picked up their pace.
The remainder of their afternoon proceeded in a more cheerful vein. Robert found the country-bred Miss Glasbarr did know her horseflesh, and was more than willing to discuss the teams of their peers. First, she offered the information that her etiquette instructor had forbade them from conversing on such topics with gentlemen unless greatly pressed, but Robert brushed that aside. He was enjoying himself too much to worry over silly proprieties.
