Madoc's hatred of her served to discourage those who might be interested. Besides, no man would marry her without a dowry, and everyone knew her stepfather had no intention of offering one.
" 'Tis beautiful. Please forgive my bad manners," Keely apologized, feeling churlish. "Your sudden appearance frightened me."
"Then you must forgive me," Richard replied, his voice a soft caress. "Never would I intentionally frighten or hurt you in any way."
His words did nothing to calm her fears. Keely couldn't seem to drag her gaze away from his. A thousand airy butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach, and her hands in her lap trembled.
"I always thought only Englishmen and Madoc behaved rudely," Keely remarked, unaware of the insult she'd leveled on him. "I see that I carry that flaw inside me."
"Who is Madoc?" Richard asked, cocking a brow at her.
"My stepfather." Keely bit her bottom lip for a long moment. "Would you care to sit with me?" she finally invited him.
Richard gave her an easy smile and sat down beside her, so close his thigh teased her gown. The lady was definitely attracted, Richard concluded, but nervous because of her cousins. Somehow, he'd have to get around the fact that those two blockheads robbed him in Shropshire.
What the bloody hell was he thinking? Richard frowned ferociously. He'd been the innocent victim, not the damned perpetrator of that crime!
"Is—is something wrong?" Keely asked in a small voice.
Richard gave himself a mental shake, then took her hand in his and kissed its sensitive palm. "You look especially lovely today, my lady," he complimented her.
Keely blushed and cast him an ambiguous smile.
Was she shy? Richard wondered. Or sly?
His gaze dropped to the gentle swell of her breasts above the low-cut bodice of the gown. When his eyes lifted to hers, she looked disgruntled. A man would have had to be blind to miss the displeasure stamped across her delicate features.
Richard had the good grace to flush, though amusement lit his eyes and made them glitter like emeralds. Never had he met a woman with such modesty. Even the queen's virginal maids-of-honor were less restrained than this beauty.
"I was admiring your dragon pendant," he lied. "A most unusual piece."
Keely's expression cleared. She touched the pendant and said, " 'Tis my mother's legacy to me."
Holding her gaze captive with his own, Richard purposefully pasted his best smoldering look on his face. He knew how effective that particular expression was with women.
Keely felt a melting sensation in the pit of her stomach. Within mere seconds the simmering heat became a raging boil, but her instinct for survival surfaced quickly. Keely tore her gaze from his and remarked, "How lovely the trees dress in autumn, especially the oaks. You know, they're powerful huggers."
"I beg your pardon?" Richard couldn't credit what he'd heard.
"I—I was admiring His Grace's garden," Keely explained, too late realizing what she'd almost revealed about herself.
"You have the most delightful accent," Richard said.
"You're the one with the accent," Keely differed, giving him an unconsciously flirtatious smile.
"We English have a phrase that best describes you Welsh," Richard said, returning her smile. "Daffy taffy."
Keely lost her smile, and one perfectly arched ebony brow shot up in a perfect imitation of his irritating habit. "We Welsh have a term that best describes English halfwits like you— gifted."
Richard shouted with laughter, not only at what she'd said but at her irreverent lack of regard for his august rank. Imagine, insulting the queen's favorite earl!
For her part, Keely could only stare at him. His good humor in the face of what she considered a devastating insult surprised her.
"I'm wounded," Richard said, his eyes sparkling with unmistakable merriment. "Your sharp tongue slices me to pieces."
"What a happy soul you are," Keely replied. "Finding humor in the most unlikely places."
"Dudley should hear
" 'Tis beautiful. Please forgive my bad manners," Keely apologized, feeling churlish. "Your sudden appearance frightened me."
"Then you must forgive me," Richard replied, his voice a soft caress. "Never would I intentionally frighten or hurt you in any way."
His words did nothing to calm her fears. Keely couldn't seem to drag her gaze away from his. A thousand airy butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach, and her hands in her lap trembled.
"I always thought only Englishmen and Madoc behaved rudely," Keely remarked, unaware of the insult she'd leveled on him. "I see that I carry that flaw inside me."
"Who is Madoc?" Richard asked, cocking a brow at her.
"My stepfather." Keely bit her bottom lip for a long moment. "Would you care to sit with me?" she finally invited him.
Richard gave her an easy smile and sat down beside her, so close his thigh teased her gown. The lady was definitely attracted, Richard concluded, but nervous because of her cousins. Somehow, he'd have to get around the fact that those two blockheads robbed him in Shropshire.
What the bloody hell was he thinking? Richard frowned ferociously. He'd been the innocent victim, not the damned perpetrator of that crime!
"Is—is something wrong?" Keely asked in a small voice.
Richard gave himself a mental shake, then took her hand in his and kissed its sensitive palm. "You look especially lovely today, my lady," he complimented her.
Keely blushed and cast him an ambiguous smile.
Was she shy? Richard wondered. Or sly?
His gaze dropped to the gentle swell of her breasts above the low-cut bodice of the gown. When his eyes lifted to hers, she looked disgruntled. A man would have had to be blind to miss the displeasure stamped across her delicate features.
Richard had the good grace to flush, though amusement lit his eyes and made them glitter like emeralds. Never had he met a woman with such modesty. Even the queen's virginal maids-of-honor were less restrained than this beauty.
"I was admiring your dragon pendant," he lied. "A most unusual piece."
Keely's expression cleared. She touched the pendant and said, " 'Tis my mother's legacy to me."
Holding her gaze captive with his own, Richard purposefully pasted his best smoldering look on his face. He knew how effective that particular expression was with women.
Keely felt a melting sensation in the pit of her stomach. Within mere seconds the simmering heat became a raging boil, but her instinct for survival surfaced quickly. Keely tore her gaze from his and remarked, "How lovely the trees dress in autumn, especially the oaks. You know, they're powerful huggers."
"I beg your pardon?" Richard couldn't credit what he'd heard.
"I—I was admiring His Grace's garden," Keely explained, too late realizing what she'd almost revealed about herself.
"You have the most delightful accent," Richard said.
"You're the one with the accent," Keely differed, giving him an unconsciously flirtatious smile.
"We English have a phrase that best describes you Welsh," Richard said, returning her smile. "Daffy taffy."
Keely lost her smile, and one perfectly arched ebony brow shot up in a perfect imitation of his irritating habit. "We Welsh have a term that best describes English halfwits like you— gifted."
Richard shouted with laughter, not only at what she'd said but at her irreverent lack of regard for his august rank. Imagine, insulting the queen's favorite earl!
For her part, Keely could only stare at him. His good humor in the face of what she considered a devastating insult surprised her.
"I'm wounded," Richard said, his eyes sparkling with unmistakable merriment. "Your sharp tongue slices me to pieces."
"What a happy soul you are," Keely replied. "Finding humor in the most unlikely places."
"Dudley should hear
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