Page 42 of The Bridal Quest

She could not quite meet Gideon's eyes, and she turned quickly back to Francesca. "If you do not mind, perhaps we might continue this tomorrow?"

"Of course." Francesca smiled and waved a hand. "I feel sure that Lord Radbourne will be more than pleased to escape our clutches for an afternoon. I shall just go along and discuss the plans for the party with Lady Odelia."

"Thank you." Irene gave her a small smile and, without another look at Gideon, fled the room.

Once she was safely in her own room, she flung herself into the chair by the window and spent the next few minutes castigating herself for being such a coward. Whatever was she doing, hiding up here? It was yet more evidence of how unlike herself she had been behaving.

She was not the sort of woman to engage in the socially acceptable deception of a headache that she had just used in the music room. She did not flee from men because she could not handle them. Far less did she flee because she could not trust herself!

Irene drummed her fingers upon the arm of the chair. She did not understand why this one man affected her in this way. But she could not allow it to continue. She must return to her old self.

She should go for a long walk, she decided—the sort of ramble she was wont to take when they were at home in the country. A little fresh air and healthy exercise would restore her, make her see things more clearly.

Determined, she stood up and pulled on the sturdy boots she had brought for walking and a chip straw hat with a wide brim to shade her face. She ought, she knew, to change into an older dress to avoid getting dirt on the hem of the new one she had on, but she could not undo all the buttons of this dress by herself, and she did not want to ring for the maid to help her. She would just as soon not advertise that she was going out for a walk after she had just pleaded weariness and a headache.

She slipped down the backstairs and out the rear door into the garden. She did not linger along the tended walkways there, however, taking instead the shortest way through toward the meadow beyond.

It was not long before she came upon one of the small pathways that wound their way through so much of the English countryside. She was not sure which way it ran, but she turned in the direction that seemed least likely to bring her back in sight of the house and struck off.

The path led along a small ridge and offered a fair prospect of the countryside. Below her she could see the meadow stretching off to farms and, in the distance, the Cotswold hills. To her right were trees and then another slight slope, on the top of which stood an old square gray stone tower and partial walls of the same stone.

It must be the ruins of the old Norman tower that the butler had told them about when they first arrived. Irene thought it might be worth some exploration later. She stopped for a moment and shaded her eyes to look at it.

Suddenly she heard the jingle of a bridle on the pathway behind her and the sound of a horse's hooves. She turned to look and saw a man riding toward her on a large bay gelding. Her stomach dropped.

Lord Radbourne was the man on the horse's back. And she was well and truly caught in her little white lie.

Chapter Ten

Irene thought for a single harried instant of turning and running, but she firmly clamped down on that impulse. Had she not just resolved to be strong, to return to her accustomed ways? She would meet this problem as she always had: straight on.

She stiffened her spine and watched Gideon approach. She recalled that Lady Odelia had told Francesca that Gideon was a poor rider, but Irene could not help but think that he showed quite well on horseback. He might not have the excellent form of many of her male acquaintances, who had ridden from childhood, but that fact did not detract from the picture of power he presented, with his wide shoulders squared and his large, leather-gloved hands holding the reins, his muscular thighs clamped against the horse's sides.

Irene swallowed and straightened even more.

"Why, Lady Irene," Gideon said as he drew near, laughter lurking in his voice, as he swept off his hat to her. "What a surprise to find you here."

"Indeed. I am equally surprised to meet you," she retorted. "Did you follow me?"

"No, I thought you ensconced in your bedchamber with a headache, if you will remember," he responded and swung down from his horse. He took the reins in his hand and led the horse closer to her. "I decided to take a look at one or two of my farms, as the rest of my day was suddenly free."

Feeling that some explanation was in order, Irene told him, "I thought perhaps a turn in the fresh air would relieve my headache."

"Ah, I see." He nodded. "Then I shall just walk with you ... unless, of course, you prefer not to have company."

The roguish gleam in his eyes was too much of a challenge for Irene to resist. "Of course not," she replied. "Indeed, my lord, I believe that there are a few things that we need to discuss."

"Really? Points about my manners? Or my dancing skills? And I thought we had agreed that you would call me Gideon."

"Gideon," she said, deciding that she would give in on that small point. "Though, of course, it would not be proper to address you so when we are in company."

"Oh, no, indeed. Then I must definitely be Radbourne to you."

"I know this all seems a joke to you," Irene told him stiffly. "But these are the rules by which we live, and it does a lady little good to be seen breaking them. I am considered odd enough as it is. I do not wish to add any questions about my honor to the gossip."

He frowned. "Indeed, I cannot imagine that anyone would dare question your honor."

"I hope to give them no cause to do so," she countered.