“My lord, what can you mean by this?”
“I mean to taste you like a succulent morsel.”
Ugh!The man was touched in the knob, at least when it came to females and food.
“Let me pass,” Delia insisted, only then becoming fearful.
“First, a kiss.” He laid his hand upon her arm.
She ought to have searched for Frances before venturing outside.What a ninny!
“You heard the lady, Crenshaw. Let her pass.”
Another person had joined their little drama. It had grown darker, but Delia recognized the voice.
Her tormentor merely chuckled, still touching her. Then he quipped, “She has neither hooves nor mane, Perish, so you cannot possibly be interested.”
“I shall not mince words with you,” Lord Perish continued. “Release her.”
“The lady and I came to an understanding while dining,” Lord Crenshaw insisted.
Delia yanked her arm free. “We did no such thing.”
“Don’t be shy now, my lady. Why else did you nod in my direction and come out here directly, fast as a fox?”
She hesitated. Both men were awaiting her response.
“To examine the plants,” she said at last. “And I most assuredly did not nod at you.”
Lord Crenshaw started to laugh again, but Lord Perish did not. She wished she could see his expression properly to know if he believed her.
“She came out here to meet me,” Lord Crenshaw insisted again, “and you ruined our interlude.”
Delia sighed, no longer afraid, but as her father would say, “Fed up to the back teeth.”
“I have no wish for an assignation,” she said.
“Then you really are the so-called Lady Dahlia, the flower female? The lily lady? The shrubbery shrew?”
Wishing he would stop, she held up her hands to ward off his insults.
“I think we get your point,” Lord Perish said, sounding amused nonetheless.
Delia might as well depart in the morning. Obviously, her reputation had followed her.
“Why, I believe she prefers plants over people as much as you do your horses,” Lord Crenshaw added. “I’ll leave you two to your peculiarities.”
“And I thank you for that,” Delia said loudly as he departed. The churl might have trod upon one or two rose bushes, but she wouldn’t know until the morning.Poor things!
There was a moment’s awkward silence. Then Lord Perish spoke.
“Shrubbery shrew?”
“I hadn’t heard that one,” she admitted. “I thought I was much less creatively called only ‘the plant lady.’”
Her mortification lessened when he started to laugh. In fact, she found herself joining in.
“I guess we’ve learned why Crenshaw needs help making a match,” Lord Perish said. “He thinks himself quite a rum swell, so full of his own conceit he mistook your disdain for interest.”
