“So, Edmund,” Lilly teased her older brother. “Did you see the ghost of the White Woman at Crescent Barrows?”
Edmund shook his head in the negative, but before he could reply Mr. Harrow answered in his place. “I did, Miss Jenkins.” Taking Lilly’s arm Gregory moved with the party. “I beheld the phantom myself last night as she railed and hissed.”
The girl gave him a playful look. “And how did you subdue her?”
“I pulled her into my arms.”
Lilly prodded for more. “And?’
“What if I told you I convinced the White Woman that in place of cursing me, she should kiss me instead?”
The party of women began to giggle, all but Arabella who was mortified. “You did no such thing!”
Cocking a brow, Gregory deigned to ask, “Didn’t I?”
Emerald eyes flashed over red cheeks, Arabella countering, “No... you did not.”
“Ahh,” Lilly cooed. “To tame a woman with a kiss. How roguish you are, Mr. Harrow—a regular highwayman.”
Thinking back to when they were joined, when he plunged himself inside her, Arabella recalled that his lips had always stayed close to hers, their breath intermingling, but he had not kissed her mouth... not once.
Black eyes held green, Harrow agreeing with her silent debate. “You win, Lady Iliffe. I did not kiss the White Woman.” Mr. Harrow turned his attention to the girl on his arm, Lilly in her white gown. “Not yet, at least.”
Arabella felt as if a horse’s hoof had landed in her gut.
Tea passed quickly, but Lizzy was unwilling to let her retreat, pulling Arabella to the seat with the best light so they might peruse a hefty tome on India.
“Look at them,” Lilly snorted over the chessboard between her and Mr. Harrow, annoyed with their incessant chatter. “How bookish they are.”
In an age where women were expected to read, write, and do just enough arithmetic to count to ten, it was an easy slander. Her sister’s taunt embarrassed Lizzy, and inspired Arabella to defend the girl. “You would do well to take it upon yourself to improve your mind as your sister does, Miss Jenkins. It is good to be a well-read woman with a sense of the world.”
“It is a husband’s duty—”
Interrupting, bringing the weight of her emerald eyes to the snippy girl, Arabella harshly corrected her. “Husbands die.”
It was the type of thing that just was not said. The room went silent, none knowing quite how to respond.
Pressing a kiss to Lizzy’s forehead, Arabella stood and smiled as if all were well. “Thank you for tea. Now I must return home.”
“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Jenkins rose. “Thank you, your ladyship, for calling.”
“Checkmate.” Mr. Harrow, looking utterly bored, captured the white king from Lilly. “I too must away.” He did not thank his hosts or smile at a one. He only stood and left.
Delivering her bonnet and gloves, Edmund grinned, his eyes glancing outside the window to where Mr. Harrow ordered their horses.
“Lady Iliffe, Friday next there will be another gathering at the assembly rooms. May I claim the first dance, the minuet you absorbed so well yesterday?”
“I ahh...” Cornered, and unsure how to properly decline, she lowered her voice to a whisper, “I lack the skill. I would embarrass myself.”
“No, your ladyship.” He smiled, his golden hair gently bobbing forward as he leaned down to whisper back, “For your first time you were exquisite... and we can practice here while Lilly plays. Come the assembly, you will be the finest dancer in attendance.”
He looked so earnest, so unassuming and eager, that she felt incapable of denying him. “I suppose so...”
“Do not fret, I would never allow you to be disgraced. Besides, Lizzy needs a kindred spirit here. She has bloomed since she met you.”
Nodding and uncomfortable, Arabella passed through the portal.
Mamioro was waiting. Rough hands came to her waist and she was tossed atop the black mountain. “You might as well just toss your leg over now, your ladyship.” Mr. Harrow eyed her unbalanced posture with contempt. “Mr. Jenkins has already witnessed your indecent style of riding.”