“And you are,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping down her face. “You have already helped me with many things.”
Her brows rose. “Doubtful.”
He chuckled softly. “I want to take you for a ride. In a carriage this time. It seems the former earl recently had a well-sprung curricle built. I’ve taken it out a couple of times. The horses are well-matched and handle it with uncommon ease. It’s warmed since our last outing and the afternoon is pleasant.”
Brina hesitated. Not because she wouldn’t adore a relaxing afternoon ride in one of the parks or about Town. She would. The day was beautiful. It was the idea of sitting next to him on a carriage seat, feeling the warmth of his body so close, and watching him smile at her that worried her. She hesitated, folded her arms together behind her back, and pretended to study on his invitation, trying hard not to look so eager to go with him.
But she was.
“My uncles, solicitor, and accountants have had me cooped up in my book room for three days. I needed to get out and you were the one I wanted to see. Come with me,” he encouraged.
“We can sit in the garden if you don’t want to go for a ride, or if you have other plans, we’ll do it another time.”
He was daring her to allow him to leave. And she should. But, just as when he’d brought horses for them to ride, she couldn’t send him away. “No. Of course, I’ll go, but a lady needs a proper invitation. I’m not dressed for an outing. I’ll need to change my clothing and shoes, and get a—” He was shaking his head. The top of his hair fluttered attractively in the vagrant breeze and his smile was so charming she couldn’t finish her sentence.
He stepped closer to her. “You are beautiful as you are. What you’re wearing is perfectly acceptable for a ride with me.”
His compliment made her feel as if she were glowing. She looked down at her simple day dress. The neckline of the bodice was a respectable height for a widow, but she wore no collar, no jewelry, and no frills of any kind.
Yet, he said she looked beautiful.
“Once you put on your cape,” he added, “no one will know if you are wearing a morning dress, carriage dress, or evening dress, will they?”
“I suppose not,” she conceded quickly. “I’ll get my things and meet you out front.” Brina turned and rushed inside.
Less than five minutes later, wearing a black cape, bonnet, and soft cotton gloves, she took the earl’s hand so he could help her step into the curricle.
“I have a blanket if you think you need it,” he offered, settling his body beside hers.
“Not right now.” She knew from their last ride that being next to him would make her warm.
He nodded, and with a light tap of the ribbons on the horses’ rumps, a slight jerk, and a familiar rattle of harness, the carriage started rolling down the street lined with cozy houses and perfectly kept lawns. There was something comforting about the familiar sounds of thewheels and harness, the smell of new and old leather, and horses lingering in the air, and there was something infinitely satisfying about sitting beside a man. No, she corrected her thought, sitting besidethisman.
Mr. Inwood’s attention had made her even more aware of how different she felt when she was with the earl. Like it or not, he was the one she was attracted to.
They rode in silence for a few moments before Blacknight looked over at her and asked, “What do you think?”
“Smooth as a hand gliding across silk,” she said with a smile. “Your uncle had an excellent carriage built, my lord.” Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, they hit a bump that startled her. She laughed and added, “If only the roads were as even as the wheels.”
He laughed, too, as the horses clopped along. “I am getting used to being calledmy lord, but I’m not sure I’ll ever like it.”
“I would assume most peers appreciate the respect it shows.”
“The problem is that I’m finding it hard to give up a name I’ve used for close to thirty years.”
“Yes,” she said. “I know exactly how you feel. Women do it when they marry and take their husband’s last name.”
He glanced at her and grinned. “I didn’t think about it that way, but you’re right. However, women don’t change their first names and I don’t want to change mine. It’s difficult that it’s not my choice, but I will comply. I will bemy lordor Blacknight to family, peers, and to the ton, but I want you to call me Zane.”
Brina blinked rapidly as she contemplated what that meant, and she felt as if a shield suddenly protected her. She would be giving up some of the distance Society had put between them if she agreed to his suggestion. She didn’t need to be that close to him. It was an intimate endearment to call a man by his first name unless he was a family member or childhood friend.
“I couldn’t possibly do that. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Not always,” he said in casual tone. “Only when we’re alone together.” He glanced back to the road as they passed a carriage on the other side. “To others, you will continue to be Mrs. Feld. I’ll call you Brina and you call me Zane.”
The set of his strong jaw told her he was serious, but how could she possibly agree to something that simply wasn’t done? Once a man gained a title, his first name was all but forgotten.
“You go too far, my lord. That would make us too familiar with each other.”
