never heard of bastard children?
The men exchanged harsh words—Phillip was notably aggravated—then he stomped away. Edward appeared lost and bewildered, and he lingered, then he too walked on.
For many minutes, she glared at the spot where they’d been, then she slammed her papers into her portfolio, tied the string, and in a huff, marched to the house.
How dare he ignore her! How dare he act as if she were invisible! How dare he carry on, unaffected by what had passed between them.
She rushed up the stairs to her room, and rang for a maid, who aided her in donning her riding outfit.
If Phillip wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him.
Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have fussed with her hair or attire, but she was resolved to be as fetching as possible during the pending confrontation, so she strutted and twirled before the mirror until every aspect was perfect. Then she waltzed downstairs and outside, her heart beating frantically.
Could she pull it off?
She flounced into the stable, and a boy greeted her, his awe apparent.
“I would speak with the stablemaster,” she haughtily intoned.
The lad scurried off, and he returned with Phillip. When Phillip saw her, he shielded any reaction.
So he
worked
in the stable, did he? The lying bounder! She was so irate she could have chewed nails in half! “
You
are the stablemaster?”
“Aye.” Caught in a lie, he flushed. “May I help you, milady?”
“I should like to ride. I haven’t been in a long while, so I’ll require you to attend me.”
At her arrogant attitude, he bristled, but he replied politely. “I have a very experienced groomsman who will be more than happy to—”
“No. It shall be you.”
“I’m very busy.”
“Really?” she queried. “Too busy to accompany
me
? I’m the earl’s
special
guest, and I implore your personal assistance. Do you refuse to provide it?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. There were a thousand scathing retorts he was burning to hurl, a hundred ways he’d like to bring her down a peg, but the stableboy was dawdling next to him, so he couldn’t unleash his wrath.
He bowed, acknowledging defeat. “At your service,
milady
.”
The boy escorted her to the mounting block where she waited. Shortly, Phillip emerged, leading two horses. Aloof and efficient, he lifted her up, but the instant she was seated, he jumped away.
Without glancing at him, she spurred her horse forward, and she knew he’d follow. He couldn’t let her traipse off unchaperoned. Soon, a second pair of hooves trailed along behind. Rage at her autocratic manner billowed off him in waves and, she had to confess, she was a tad shocked herself. She never flung her position or status at others, and the sole rationale she could devise for exhibiting such snobbery was that he mattered to her, and she was determined to be with him.
She hated having him watch her. While he was an equestrian expert,
she
was a novice. It had been years since she’d ridden, and she hoped she hadn’t forgotten how, that she wouldn’t embarrass herself by losing her balance and falling on her rear. What a jolly laugh he’d have at her expense!
The mare had a smooth gait, so she adapted and did her best to feign skill. Without delay, they were away from the yard, alone, and on a quiet lane, shaded by trees. She glowered over her shoulder and accused, “You haven’t come to the library.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t believe you.”
He shrugged, as if he couldn’t care less. Considering how thrilled she’d been at meeting him, and how their secret assignations had absorbed her every waking moment, his detachment infuriated her.
“You’re his son, aren’t you?” she blurted, wanting to jolt a response out of him.
“Whose?” he casually inquired.
“Lord Salisbury’s.”
He shrugged again.
“At least have the decency to admit it to me!” she shouted.
“Yes, I am Lord Salisbury’s son. Phillip Paxton. Is that what you’re dying
The men exchanged harsh words—Phillip was notably aggravated—then he stomped away. Edward appeared lost and bewildered, and he lingered, then he too walked on.
For many minutes, she glared at the spot where they’d been, then she slammed her papers into her portfolio, tied the string, and in a huff, marched to the house.
How dare he ignore her! How dare he act as if she were invisible! How dare he carry on, unaffected by what had passed between them.
She rushed up the stairs to her room, and rang for a maid, who aided her in donning her riding outfit.
If Phillip wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him.
Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have fussed with her hair or attire, but she was resolved to be as fetching as possible during the pending confrontation, so she strutted and twirled before the mirror until every aspect was perfect. Then she waltzed downstairs and outside, her heart beating frantically.
Could she pull it off?
She flounced into the stable, and a boy greeted her, his awe apparent.
“I would speak with the stablemaster,” she haughtily intoned.
The lad scurried off, and he returned with Phillip. When Phillip saw her, he shielded any reaction.
So he
worked
in the stable, did he? The lying bounder! She was so irate she could have chewed nails in half! “
You
are the stablemaster?”
“Aye.” Caught in a lie, he flushed. “May I help you, milady?”
“I should like to ride. I haven’t been in a long while, so I’ll require you to attend me.”
At her arrogant attitude, he bristled, but he replied politely. “I have a very experienced groomsman who will be more than happy to—”
“No. It shall be you.”
“I’m very busy.”
“Really?” she queried. “Too busy to accompany
me
? I’m the earl’s
special
guest, and I implore your personal assistance. Do you refuse to provide it?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. There were a thousand scathing retorts he was burning to hurl, a hundred ways he’d like to bring her down a peg, but the stableboy was dawdling next to him, so he couldn’t unleash his wrath.
He bowed, acknowledging defeat. “At your service,
milady
.”
The boy escorted her to the mounting block where she waited. Shortly, Phillip emerged, leading two horses. Aloof and efficient, he lifted her up, but the instant she was seated, he jumped away.
Without glancing at him, she spurred her horse forward, and she knew he’d follow. He couldn’t let her traipse off unchaperoned. Soon, a second pair of hooves trailed along behind. Rage at her autocratic manner billowed off him in waves and, she had to confess, she was a tad shocked herself. She never flung her position or status at others, and the sole rationale she could devise for exhibiting such snobbery was that he mattered to her, and she was determined to be with him.
She hated having him watch her. While he was an equestrian expert,
she
was a novice. It had been years since she’d ridden, and she hoped she hadn’t forgotten how, that she wouldn’t embarrass herself by losing her balance and falling on her rear. What a jolly laugh he’d have at her expense!
The mare had a smooth gait, so she adapted and did her best to feign skill. Without delay, they were away from the yard, alone, and on a quiet lane, shaded by trees. She glowered over her shoulder and accused, “You haven’t come to the library.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t believe you.”
He shrugged, as if he couldn’t care less. Considering how thrilled she’d been at meeting him, and how their secret assignations had absorbed her every waking moment, his detachment infuriated her.
“You’re his son, aren’t you?” she blurted, wanting to jolt a response out of him.
“Whose?” he casually inquired.
“Lord Salisbury’s.”
He shrugged again.
“At least have the decency to admit it to me!” she shouted.
“Yes, I am Lord Salisbury’s son. Phillip Paxton. Is that what you’re dying
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