Lady Amelia’s head swiveled toward him, allowing him to see the flush of pink that colored her cheeks and the slight embarrassment painting her eyes. “I’m not.” She immediately averted her gaze once more. “It was a trying experience, but at least it was somewhat relieved by the pleasant excursion we had yesterday to Kew Gardens.”
“Oh?”
“Mr. Lowell and Mr. Burton escorted my sister and I.”
Thomas bristled. So she’d spent an entire afternoon with these men whose interest in her had been most apparent when he’d seen them fawning over her earlier in the week. The idea did not sit well with him in the least, though it ought to do so since both would be excellent matches for her. Still... Mr. Burton’s presence and that adoring way in which he kept looking at her just grated.
“How good of them,” he muttered.
“Lady Everly was there, as well,” Mr. Burton said. “As chaperone.”
“And where is her ladyship now?” Thomas asked. Perhaps he ought to have a word with her about accompanying Lady Amelia about when she went on walks with a gentleman. All things considered, they couldn’t be too careful when it came to her reputation, no matter how respectable Mr. Burton might be or how appropriate it was for a young lady to walk with a gentleman unescorted when out in public.
“She is at home,” Lady Amelia said, and Thomas noted that the statement was slightly clipped.
He decided to drop the matter for now in favor of addressing Mr. Burton. “So tell me, sir, how is your farm doing these days?”
The question achieved its purpose by getting Mr. Burton to launch into a long explanation about sheep and agriculture, preventing Thomas from having to say another word for the remainder of the walk, which in turn allowed him to simply enjoy Lady Amelia’s closeness. There was also the added benefit that she might realize how dull a life with Mr. Burton would be, and thus refrain from showing any further interest in the man.
“Well,” Mr. Burton said when they arrived at the entrance to Hyde Park. He turned an expectant gaze on Lady Amelia before glancing briefly at Thomas.
Lady Amelia smiled. She, too, looked at Thomas as if expecting him to take his leave. He refused, looking back at them instead as if he couldn’t imagine what they might be thinking.
Eventually, Mr. Burton asked, “Shall I escort you back to Huntley House, my lady?”
“No need,” Thomas said before she could manage a response. Mr. Burton’s eyes widened. A frown appeared on his forehead, and then he took a hasty step back.
Whatever he’d seen in Thomas’s expression, it had prompted him to retreat, which he did with an elegant bow and a quick, “Very well then.” He tipped his hat toward Lady Amelia. “It has been a pleasure. I shall look forward to our next encounter.” His eyes met Thomas’s once more, and all joy seemed to drain from his face. “Good day, Your Grace.”
“Good day, Mr. Burton.”
And then he was gone, hurrying away as though he couldn’t escape their company fast enough. Thomas turned to Lady Amelia and found her glaring at him. “Whatwas that about?”
“What do you mean?” he asked as innocently as he could manage.
She planted her hands on her hips in a stance that did not look very ladylike at all. Her features hardened, and she was suddenly as foreboding as the fiery vision she’d presented twice before when she’d been angry with him. Just as on those previous occasions, he found the experience incredibly arousing and could only hope to God she wouldn’t notice the state he was suddenly in because of her fiery gaze.
“Do not pretend innocence, Coventry. You have been antagonistic toward Mr. Burton since the moment you chose to join us for a private walk to which you were not invited.”
“You didn’t tell me to go away.”
“Of course not. I was happy to see you.”
The admittance burned straight through him. She was happy to see him. Warmth fanned out in the confines of his chest. “So then?”
“But you obviously have an issue with him, in which case you probably should have considered avoiding us or riding off again after a brief greeting. Instead, you ruined what was actually a perfectly nice walk.”
Sighing, he determined to make an attempt at an apology. “I am sorry. That was not my intention. But you cannot possibly be enamored with him, in which case—”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because he talks about nothing but sheep!”
She actually stomped her foot in response to that remark. “Only because you encouraged him to do so. Until you arrived, we were actually having a riveting discussion about hothouse roses.”
He couldn’t help but stop for a second. “You have an interest in that?”
“No. Of course not. He brought me a bouquet, and my enthusiasm with it sort of led to the subject in a roundabout way.”
