“I’m afraid the club is open only to men.”
“I was talking about the folly,” she said as they made their way onto a path that would take them toward the lake. “You sound so passionate about it, I think it might be a good place to start.”
“Start what?”
“Getting to know you.”
Dear God, he was an idiot. Getting to know each other was what he’d hoped to avoid. He didn’t want her getting close, bonding with him and sharing interests. He wanted distance and solitude - no cause for affection.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said on the heels of all that thinking. “I want you as my wife, not as my friend or confidante.”
She speared him with a scowl. “In that case we’ve little else to discuss. Good day, Your Grace.”
She veered right at an increased pace.
Damn.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She was meant to see reason and tell him she’d reconsidered his offer. Instead she’d turned him down yet again without him even getting to the point of another proposal.
He should have insisted they stay in the parlor. No good ever came from walking. As evidenced by the blister starting to form on his right foot.
Irritated, he strode after Miss Townsbridge while cursing himself for selecting her. If it weren’t for the fact that the Season was almost over, he might consider resuming his search for the perfect bride. Except of course he’d already pondered every available woman. In the end, Miss Townsbridge was the only viable option not only for the obvious reasons, but because none of the others would have turned him down.
The fact that she had, made him want her even more. This - whatever this was - had turned into a challenge. One he meant to win even if he had to agree to show her the damn folly.
Christ almighty, she was fast!
He quickened his pace, cursing the blister with each step he took. “Miss Townsbridge. Please wait a moment.”
She drew to a halt and turned to face him. “There is no need for you to continue escorting me. In fact, I’m sure you’d rather not.”
Good God.
He wondered if she was always this merciless or if she’d just decided to give him some sort of special treatment. Considering this was a quality he’d not noticed during his observations, she most likely had.
“On the contrary,” he said, deciding it might be time to change his tactic, “I would enjoy nothing more.”
She actually groaned and muttered something beneath her breath, at which point he simply had to smile. Again. How unexpected. And yet, there was something wonderfully amusing about teasing this woman. It lifted his spirits and reminded him of the mischievous streak he’d had as a child. Before the darkness had swept in and drowned out his joy.
He deliberately blocked the memory by focusing his full attention on Miss Townsbridge. “I’ve reconsidered regarding the folly. I’d be happy to show it to you. Perhaps tomorrow if you’re not otherwise engaged?”
“Oh.” Her eyes had widened with surprise and he had to stifle a laugh. “What time?”
“Would three o’ clock in the afternoon suit you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” They stared at each other a moment,not in awkward silence exactly, but with a sense of uncertainty. Until she suddenly said, “Let’s go fishing.”
“Fishing?” Where the devil had that idea come from? It sounded spontaneous and more or less exactly like yet another thing he probably ought to avoid. The list kept growing while he continued ignoring every item on it. At least when it came to this, he had a good reason to dissuade her. “Last I checked, fishing required a bit of equipment. We, however, don’t have any rods or bait or–”
“Not to worry. Everything we need can be rented right over there.”
Blast
“Would it make any difference to you if I told you I’d rather not?”
“No.” A devilish gleam appeared in her eyes. “In fact, I think that would only make me want to do it more. Especially since Lord Penwood did offer to take me until you ruined everything with your proposal.”
Accepting his fate - for now - Matthew puffed out a breath and followed Miss Townsbridge over to the shed where all the necessary paraphernalia could be found.
