Page 16 of Winterset

“Please, Miss Holcomb, allow me the opportunity to play the gentleman. My sisters rarely do, so I must inflict myself on our guests.”

Kyria rolled her eyes affectionately at her brother and said, “You might as well give in. Reed is like a dog with a bone—especially when it comes to one’s safety. He is terribly overprotective, but, then, I suppose that is much better than the alternative, is it not? Besides, he really is quite a pleasant companion.”

“I am sure—I did not mean—” Anna stopped, embarrassed. Had her reluctance been so obvious? The last thing she wanted was to stir up any suspicion in Reed’s sister, and she had already seen curiosity in the woman’s gaze earlier at the table. As Rafe had pointed out earlier, Reed was not the only member of the family who was like a dog with a bone when his or her interest was aroused.

So she wound up a few minutes later back in her old walking dress—though Kyria’s efficient maid had sewn up the torn ruffle at the hem and also made a stab at removing the dirt and stains from it—and sitting in the carriage across from Reed. It was a sporty open-air victoria—brand-new, from the shiny looks of it—and the expandable top was pushed to the back, opening it up to the mild summer night.

The moon was full, casting a soft romantic glow over the evening scene. The trees arched over them as they went down the driveway, so that the moon and stars flickered through the branches, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves, caressing Anna’s cheeks.

She looked across the small carriage at Reed. Though they were quite close, his face was only partially visible in the dim light, his eyes dark and unknown, the ridges of his cheekbones highlighted. She could not help but think what a sweet, romantic ride it would have been if he had been sitting beside her…if she had not refused him…if life had turned out differently….

Anna gave herself a mental shake and said brightly, “This is a beautiful carriage.”

“It’s Kyria’s. Rafe gave it to her when they returned to England a few weeks ago. Beautiful and a little impractical—very much like Kyria.” A smile took the sting from his words.

“I can see that you are very fond of your sister.”

Reed nodded. “I am fond of all my family.” He paused. “I want to thank you for what you did for the twins today.”

“How could I not?”

His mouth quirked. “There are a number of women, I think, who would not have helped them carry a wounded dog to a healer. Of course, they really had no business being on your property.”

Anna shrugged. “That is no problem. Kit and I are happy for them to explore.” She frowned, then added quickly, “Of course, they probably should not go farther into the woods—up Craydon Tor, you know. I fear they could easily get lost.”

“They generally take their compass. I imagine they could have found their way back today if you had not come along. But I will speak to them about Craydon Tor—though I fear that, with those two, any word of warning seems to make them only more eager to do something.”

“Typical boys, I think.” Anna smiled. “Kit was always most eager to do whatever had been forbidden. But I do hope you will impress on them not to go alone into those woods. They could fall or—well, there must be some sort of animal, perhaps a wild dog, that inflicted that damage on the dog they found. I have no idea what it was, but the dog’s wounds were severe. I do not like to think of Con and Alex coming upon that fierce a creature.” She brightened. “If they will but come to the Manor, I will send our gamekeeper, Rankin, out with them to explore the woods. He is a very good sort. They will enjoy their outing with him, I assure you.”

“That is very kind. Was the dog as badly injured as the boys said?”

Anna nodded. “Yes. Nick Perkins is a wonderful healer, but I hope Con and Alex will not count too much on his curing the animal.”

Reed studied her for a moment. “You truly liked them, didn’t you? Alex and Con.”

“Why, of course.” Anna cast a startled look at him. “How could I not? They are delightful boys.”

“There are many who do not find them so,” Reed commented wryly.

Anna wrinkled her nose. “Then they must be very stodgy sorts.”

Reed chuckled. “They are, many of them. However, it does seem as though wherever the twins go, things just seem to…happen.”

“Things?”

“Oh, frogs in a tutor’s bed, for instance, or an escaped parrot…or boa constrictor…or rabbit. Then there was the fire in the nursery—that was when they were pretending to be frontiersmen in America, I believe, and using a tinderbox. Or the time they went down an abandoned well after a kitten. Or—”

Anna chuckled, raising a hand in a stopping gesture. “All right, I believe you.”

They smiled at each other across the short space separating them, and suddenly Anna was struck with a shaft of longing—not physical desire, but a yearning for the closeness they had once shared, however briefly, a mental and emotional intimacy, the spark of fun and humor and excitement that had underlain the more urgent physical desire. They had liked each other, had simply enjoyed each other’s company, and Anna realized with a pang how much she had missed that closeness. She wanted to ask him if they could continue like this, if there was any chance that they could be friends after what had happened, but even as the thought was born in her head, she dismissed it.

It was foolish to even think of it, she knew. After what had happened between them, they surely could not be friends. If she had handled things differently from the beginning, perhaps. Or if she had known…But, she had not, and it had happened as it had happened, and she could really hope for nothing except to keep a certain polite distance between them.

Anna dropped her eyes to her lap, and a sudden, awkward silence fell upon them.

“Anna,” he said urgently, leaning forward, closing the short space between them.

Anna looked up at him warily. He was much too close, and it was suddenly difficult for her to breathe.