“Good afternoon, Miss Hyacinth! Have you come for your punishment?”
It was an unusually clear day for London in January, and Hyacinth had ventured into the gardens hoping for a quiet ramble to calm her nerves before the dreaded confrontation with Lachlan Ramsey, but she whirled at the sound of her name, and saw Isla and Ciaran Ramsey wandering toward her along one of the gravel pathways.
Ciaran snatched his hat off and waved it over his head, beckoning to her. “Come walk with us!”
Hyacinth blinked in surprise at the warm greeting, given that just two nights ago she’d falsely accused their brother of murder, but she made her way down the pathway, and caught up to them at the fountain in the center, where the walkways converged.
“Good afternoon, Miss Hyacinth. See, Isla? I told you she’d come. One can’t hide from family forever, no matter how much they might wish to.”
“Oh, no. I wasn’t hiding, Mr. Ramsey. I was just, ah…well…”
She trailed off, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of course, shehadbeen hiding. Judging by the teasing glint in Ciaran Ramsey’s eyes, he knew it.
“You’re a terrible liar, Miss Hyacinth. But come now, there’s no need for such a furious blush. I’m only teasing. You looked so serious and earnest as you approached us, I couldn’t resist.”
“Oh.” Hyacinth gave him a shy glance. Ciaran Ramsey was nearly as big as his brother, and the bruises still visible on his face made him look a bit sinister, but it was difficult to be afraid of a man with such a playful grin. “Well, then. I’m come to beg your pardon for my behavior the other night, and to take my punishment.”
Ciaran’s brow quirked with surprise. “Well, how gratifying to be administering a punishment at last, instead of receiving one. All right then, Miss Hyacinth, what would you like for your punishment?”
Hyacinth smiled. “If it’s something I like, then it’s not a punishment at all, is it?”
“Oh, right. Well, you see I’m not very good at this. Perhaps we’ll just forego the punishment entirely, and simply start fresh, as if none of it happened.”
Hyacinth curtsied. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”
Isla Ramsey’s dark eyes twinkled with humor as she linked arms with Hyacinth. “I warn you, Miss Somerset, not to let down your guard. Ciaran can be charming when he wishes, but he’s also a merciless tease.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure Mr. Ramsey can’t be so wicked as that.”
Isla let out a short laugh. “Indeed he is. You don’t have brothers, Miss Somerset, but you may trust me when I say they’re all horrid, teasing things.”
“All of them? Even your eldest brother?” Lachlan Ramsey hadn’t struck Hyacinth as a carefree, lighthearted tease, but then she’d been wrong about him being a murderer. Perhaps she was wrong about this, too.
“Lachlan? Oh, Good Lord, no.” Ciaran was loping along behind them, swinging his hat by the brim. “You see, Miss Somerset, teasing leads to smiling, and even—heaven forbid—laughter, and Lachlan doesn’t do either of those things. He’s more the grim, menacing sort of brother.”
Menacing?Hyacinth choked back a surge of panic. She owed Lachlan Ramsey an apology, and she’d give him one, no matter that the thought of facing that black scowl made her quake in her slippers. “Is he…is Mr. Lachlan Ramsey about? I must offer my apologies to him, as well.”
“Apologize, to Lachlan?” Ciaran gave a low whistle. “There’s your punishment.”
Hyacinth bit her lip. In truth, the only thing she wanted to offer Lachlan Ramsey was a wide berth, but she’d publically accused the man of a murder he didn’t commit. It wasn’t the sort of thing one could pretend hadn’t happened. “It’s not such a daunting task as that, is it?”
“No, no. Of course not.” Miss Ramsey frowned at Ciaran. “Lachlan went riding, but he may be back by now. You could check the stables.”
“Yes. I will. Thank you.”
Hyacinth wandered off in the direction of the stables, her feet dragging with every step. Why did it have to be the stables? No one would hear her scream fromthere, and weren’t there pitchforks in the stables?
“Good luck!”
Hyacinth turned back to see them waving gaily at her, but she couldn’t help but notice Isla’s brow was furrowed with concern, and Ciaran was fingering his black eye, as if he’d just recalled what Lachlan was capable of.
Hyacinth slipped as quietly as she could into the cool, dim interior of the stables. She’d far rather catch Lachlan by surprise than the other way around, but aside from the dust motes floating in the weak sunlight, the stables were empty.
Perhaps he’d already come and gone, or given up the idea of riding altogether. Well, it was an awful pity, but shehaddone her best to find him. She could always beg his pardon later, in the drawing room after dinner this evening, perhaps, when there were witnesses present—
“Riding out, Miss Somerset?”
Hyacinth was halfway through the stable door, mere feet away from a timely escape, but she whirled around at once to face the owner of that low, mocking voice. It had to be Lachlan—no one but a giant had a voice that deep—and the last thing she wanted was a giant sneaking up behind her in a dark barn.
