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He startled at his thought and looked away. “No, it’s still there.”

She again attempted to wipe it clean, this time with the palm of her gloved hand. “Now?”

“No, you’ve missed it again.” This would be much easier if he could simply reach out and stroke—wipe it off for her.

She huffed out a sigh and scrubbed harder, finally removing the mess.

“There you are.”

“Thank you,” she said with that appreciative smile she was so quick to give.

He pulled his lips in and nodded. Most women would be horrified to be seen in such a manner, but Miss Coventry had seemed entirely unaffected. “So, I take it you paint before riding every day?”

“I do, always at eleven o’clock,” she replied, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about her behavior.

He supposed there wasn’t, really. But it was rather strange that she so religiously followed her schedule. Was she avoiding something? Beholden to a routine because of her father? Perhaps Mr. Coventry was not as respectable as Edward previously thought.

“Well, I shan’t keep you from your work any longer, Mr. Steele. Good day.”

She curtsied then headed for the stables once again.

“Good day, Miss Coventry.”

Before he could ascend the steps to the house, she spun around, her brow furrowed. “What did you call me?”

He hesitated. What had he called her? “Miss…Miss Coventry?” That was her name, was it not?

Her frown did not ease. “I am Miss Marianne. My older sister is Miss Coventry.”

Was that the first time he’d said her name aloud? How could that be so? He looked around them. “But…is your sister here now?”

“No.”

“Then are you not Miss Coventry?”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable.

“I apologize if I’ve caused offense,” he said. Though he had no idea how he could have done so. “I will refer to you as Miss Marianne, if you prefer.”

She shook her head, still staring at him. “No, that is all right. You are correct, of course. I simply don’t believe I’ve ever been called that before.”

He tried not to gawp. “Never?”

She shook her head, still appearing in a daze.

How could that be? Surely, she’d been out without her sister before. She could not always be in her presence during balls and dinner parties.

“Are you well?” he asked when she remained silent.

Her eyes continued to study him before her features softened. “Of course. But I believe it really is time for me to let you depart. Good day.”

Then she curtsied and with a growing smile left for the stables.

Thank goodness he was free to continue with his work. When next he saw her—that is, if he saw her, he would be certain to leave before any more time could be usurped from his carving.

Just so long as there was no green paint to distract him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN