“Not a pleasant endeavor for such a beautiful afternoon.”
His voice was closer this time. She glanced over to see him taking the seat beside her. A peculiar tingle raced up her arm where it brushed against his coat. His warm masculine scent filled her nostrils, and she breathed deeply, drawing it in until it enveloped her completely. The coolness of the day was quickly forgotten as his warmth seemed to invade the space between them.
She watched, mesmerized by him, as he drew something from his pocket, and a lock of hair fell over his brow. She turned away, irritated with her preoccupation with the stranger. Unable to resist, however, she chanced another peek from the corner of her eye.
He held a piece of bread in his hand, breaking off several morsels then throwing them out into the water. The swans glided over, quickly devouring the offering. He moved his hand in front of Jillian, holding the bread out to her.
“Would you like to try?”
She smiled and began tossing a few bits to the eager birds. The bread fell shorter than the ones he had thrown, and the swans moved in closer.
They fed the swans the remainder of the bread in silence. Several more joined the group, eager to get a bit to eat, and soon there was a crowd, all vying for the last pieces. When it became apparent that no more bread was forthcoming, the swans waddled up on shore and boldly advanced toward the bench where they were seated.
“I fear we are under attack,” the man said in amusement.
One of them pecked at Jillian’s skirts, and she shooed it away with her hands. Thinking she had more bread to offer, they swarmed her. The man pulled her to her feet and urged her quickly away. They laughed uncontrollably as the swans flocked after them. Increasing their pace, they raced toward the main path, seeking the safety of the hedges lining the walkway.
Once on the other side, they stopped to catch their breath, laughing at their experience.
“I must thank you,” she said, humor still lacing her voice. “You saved me from a most embarrassing situation.”
He smiled back at her, his eyes twinkling in merriment. “I could not call myself a gentleman were I to allow such a beautiful woman to come to harm.”
She looked at him in surprise, her legs becoming suspiciously jelly-like under his smoldering gaze. His face was inches from hers, and her heart did a flip-flop in her chest. Was he going to kiss her? Her heart thundered in her chest and she felt a twinge of fear mixed with something else...was it anticipation?
She could feel his hand gently cupping her cheek, though she had no idea how it got there. Nervously, she licked her lips as he closed the small gap between them. His mouth was nearly over hers when he drew away abruptly, running a hand through his hair in agitation.
“Do accept my apologies for taking such liberties.”
Mortification swept through Jillian. Had she nearly let a complete stranger kiss her in the middle of Hyde Park? She raised a shaky hand to her lips, lips that had almost touched his. “Thank you for your assistance,” she said haltingly. And she turned and hurried away.
“Wait!” he called after her. “I didn’t get your name—”
Justin cursed under his breath as he returned to his horse. To act with such a lack of decorum was bad enough but in a public place? He mounted his steed and cantered down the path from the park, but still, thoughts of the woman he’d met by the pond weighed heavily on him. He hadn't expected to see anyone there. It was a place he frequented when he was in London, liking the seclusion it offered.
He’d been instantly drawn to the woman sitting on the bench, gazing out over the water. There was something wistful about her pose, her chin in her hand, looking like she were anywhere but where she actually was. Not even the most talented artist could have captured her beauty. Her black hair, her emerald green eyes, and her lips, full, sensual lips.Who was she?
She was missing the curls, ribbons and flounces of a girl in her first season. Dressed elegantly, fashionably, her demeanor marked her nobility as surely as the soft cultured tone of her voice. Her eyes reflected a maturity that went beyond her years. She was probably married.
That thought left a sour taste in his mouth. In his preoccupation with her, he had not noticed if she wore a ring. Whether married or not, what was she doing without proper escort? She was fortunate she hadn’t been accosted. A sudden thought hit him. She was out alone, and he’d left her. Well, she’d left him, but still, he should have seen her safely home. What if something happened to her?
Turning his horse around, he urged him back to the spot where she had hurried away. He searched the area but found no sign of her. Reluctantly, he turned back after circling one last time. If she had come to harm, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
He rode back to his stables and dismounted, flipping the reigns to the waiting groom. A quick check of his timepiece told him he was already late for his afternoon appointment with the tailor he had summoned.
He strode into the main house and down the hall to the parlor. A few moments later, he stood impatiently, as the tailor poked and prodded, measured and tucked. His time away from England had resulted in a loss of flesh, particularly around his midsection, and he’d instructed the tailor to take in his breeches and waistcoat. If he was going to attend tonight’s ball, he’d have need of suitable eveningwear.
The elderly gentleman stood solemnly, his lips pursed, studying the line of Justin’s waistcoat. “It only needs minor alterations, your grace. I will start to work immediately and have it delivered to you in a few hours.”
Justin nodded and stood, arms outstretched, as the tailor began the arduous task of unpinning the coat. He closed his eyes and conjured the image of the young woman in the park. Nostrils flaring, he recalled her intoxicating scent and her laughing green eyes.
Something about her struck a chord deep within him. He’d felt the insane urge to draw her into his arms and protect her from whatever wrought such sadness in her. Never before had a woman elicited such an evocative response in him.
If only he hadn’t acted so rashly. He might have learned more about the woman. Her name would’ve been a good start.
Once more, he immersed himself in the memory of the afternoon. The sound of her laughter brought a smile to his face and inspired longing deep within his chest.
“Well now, don’t you look pretty.”
