A muscle flexed in Damon's jaw. “Indeed. And you could have been hurt as well, since you were clinging to his arm. But no, I did not cause his fall,” he stated, fixing her with a stern look.
Eleanor's frown deepened. “It seems strange that the prince is beset by mishaps whenever you are around.”
Damon emitted a low, incredulous laugh. “You don't honestly believe I had anything to do with this one?”
“Why not? His troubles did not begin until you returned to London. And you have been present for all three incidents thus far.”
“As have you,” Damon pointed out coolly. “You could have orchestrated his misadventures yourself so that you could come to his rescue and prove your resourcefulness and compassion. Isn't that what your book tells you to do?”
“No,” Eleanor snapped, longing to set him back on his heels. “In fact it advises just the opposite. I am supposed to appear helpless whenever possible.”
His mouth curling, Damon glanced down at the injured man. “Lazzara is the one who seems helpless just now.”
“A state that you obviously relish.”
His jaw hardened. “So you think I sabotaged his carriage and risked your safety-even your very life- the day you drove with him in the park?”
Judging from his tone, she had obviously roused his ire with her accusations, but Eleanor didn't back down since her own ire had escalated. “Perhaps you did. You seem determined to interfere in our court ship.”
“What of yesterday? I was nowhere near Lazzara when he was pushed into the street.”
“You could have hired a pickpocket to assault him. And you were in a prime position just now to cause his fall.”
Damon returned the dagger-eyed look she was giving him with steel in his own. “There is only one problem, sweeting. I had nothing to do with any of his mishaps. You will have to look elsewhere for the culprit.”
Eleanor could see that he was angry. But she was furious herself to think Damon might be so set on spoiling her courtship that he'd deliberately endangered the prince.
“Of course you would deny it,” she returned in a fierce undertone, “even if you are guilty.”
When Damon pinned her with his gaze, she could feel the air crackling between them.
“Are you actually questioning my word?” he asked in a dangerous voice.
Realizing they were attracting attention from various bystanders, Eleanor lowered her own voice. “I don't know if I am or not. But clearly I cannot trust you to tell me the truth.”
“Eleanor,” her aunt suddenly interrupted. “Come, my dear, we should be going home.”
Damon was still regarding Eleanor with smoldering eyes. “This is not the place to be arguing,” he bit out. “We should continue this discussion in private.”
“We should not be speaking at all!” Eleanor practically hissed in return. She stepped away from him just as Mr. Geary concluded his examination.
“I do not believe any bones are broken, your highness,” the physician announced, “but you require care since you appear to have badly sprained your knee. You should be taken home at once and put to bed. I shall attend you if you wish.”
Lady Beldon spoke up immediately. “I will send for my own physician, Mr. Geary. You need not trouble yourself any further.”
The physician looked dubious, but he nodded. “You would do well to put cold compresses on your knee, your highness. And of course you must keep it immobile for a time.”
“We will see to his welfare, Mr. Geary,” Lady Bel-don insisted.
Signor Vecchi helped the prince to rise then and lent his shoulder for support. Still in severe pain, the injured nobleman limped onward with the aid of his relative.
“You came in Prince Lazzara's carriage, did you not?” Damon said tersely to Eleanor. “If need be, I will take you and your aunt home.”
She glanced sharply at him. “It is not necessary, my lord. You have done more than enough this evening. Indeed, I would be quite pleased if you would keep away from us all for the distant future.”
With that, Eleanor turned and followed the injured prince, feeling Damon's eyes boring into her back all the while.
Her frustration with Damon did not abate as she entered the prince's carriage with her aunt, although by the time the barouche had carried them to Port-man Place and deposited them on their doorstep, Eleanor's anger had calmed the slightest measure.