Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman by Julia Justiss Page B

manager. Every interaction he observed between Miss Neville and the farmers demonstrated just how much a man of birth like Lord Bronning enhanced, rather than diminished, his stature and the respect in which he washeld by intimately involving himself in the life of his land and tenants.
    A fact the perceptiveness honed by his months aboard the Illustrious now made seem completely obvious.
    What an opportunity he had wasted at Blenhem Hill! Not for the first time, he wished he might have the last three years back to live over again.
    He wasn’t sure when or how he would make amends to the tenants his ignorance had harmed or the cousin whose trust he’d abused. But some day, after he obtained his release from the Navy and built a new career, he intended to do so.
    â€˜Is your shoulder paining you, Mr Anders?’
    Miss Holton’s enquiry interrupted his reflections. Realising he must have been frowning, Greville replied, ‘Not at all, Miss Holton. Just concentrating a bit too much on the road. Forgive me.’
    â€˜Around this next curve is the Trimmer farm, which has quite an extensive orchard,’ Miss Neville said. ‘We can rest the horses—and probably beg a mug of their excellent cider.’
    â€˜A mug of cider would be most welcome,’ Greville said, dismissing the last of his lingering regrets and turning his attention back to his companions.

Chapter Six
    S everal hours later, after cider at the farmhouse drunk under the still-bare branches of the apple trees, stops at several other farms and a visit with the lace-maker Mrs Ender, they left Ashton Grove land and began the descent to Salters Bay. Conversation languished as the narrow, twisting lane and the steep grade forced him to focus all his concentration on driving.
    Though Greville didn’t mind the slow pace. He was in no hurry to get to their final destination and exchange the company of the glorious Miss Neville for that of a passel of crusty sailors. Though perhaps he ought to be.
    In the camaraderie of admiring farms and fields, it had been all too easy to forget he had intended to keep his distance. Rather than tease and antagonise her, with each engaging conversation he moved closer to falling into an easy friendship with the beguiling Miss Neville, whose tantalising proximity made him yearn for the more intimate relationship that both honour and common sense forbade.
    A good part of the effect she had on him, he reassured himself, doubtless arose from his being so long without attractivefeminine company. The eager anticipation with which he’d awaited each of these day-long outings, the way it seemed as though the spring sun emerged after the chill clouds of winter when she smiled—all stemmed from a temporary fascination that would fade, as former fascinations had, once he could freely avail himself of the intimate contact he had lacked for so long.
    Though he acknowledged, regretfully, such contact would probably not be possible until he was free of the naval service and residing in a metropolis large enough that one’s neighbour didn’t know about one’s every indiscretion.
    Suddenly a carriage careened around the corner, headed right for them. Returning to his duties with a start, Greville hauled back hard on the reins, pain searing his recovering shoulder as he struggled to control the rearing, plunging horses.
    The other carriage was doing the same, and after a few moments of chaos, with the ladies crying out and hanging on to rails, the groom from the other vehicle ran to the horses’ heads while two men jumped down and hurried over.
    â€˜Miss Neville, Miss Holton, are you both unharmed? I fear, while showing off my new curricle for my guest, I took that last corner far too swiftly.’
    â€˜Althea and I are quite safe, Mr Williams,’ Miss Neville assured the newcomer.
    â€˜My thanks to the gentleman handling your reins for avoiding a collision! Had he not reacted so