dignified walk. Growling impatiently, Robert strode to meet him, asking, “Where are they?”
“If you are referring to Miss Lisa and her guests, I believe they have gone to the park so that Lord Findlay and Lord Pembroke could prove who had the faster phaeton,” the man answered calmly.
Robert stared at him silently for a moment with disbelief, and then whirled on his heel and headed for the front door. His mind wasn’t silent however. It was having a good old rant. Here he was giving up his bed for a guest room in the Radnor townhouse to look after her, and what did she do? She rushed off to the park with a gaggle of lords, any one of whom could be the mysterious suitor who had planned to kidnap and have his way with her.
Had she gone mad? Because the Lisa Madison he knew and had grown up being chased about by would never be this stupid and reckless. Did she want to be kidnapped and ravished? Was she so devastated by his seeing her as only a little sister that she would risk herself this way? He would wring her beautiful little neck when he found her.
“B ravo!” Lisa yelled, jumping up and clapping her hands as the phaeton she rode in left the open path and was first to the agreed-upon finishing line. They had won the race. Well, Charles had, she acknowledged with a laugh. She had just been lucky enough to ride along for the race, Lisa supposed, and turned to grin down at the man at the reins.
Findlay chuckled at her enthusiasm, but switched the reins to one hand and raised his other to catch her arm and steady her. “While I am happy you are happy, Miss Madison, you should really sit down. I would not want you to catapult out of the carriage when we slow down.”
“Call me Lisa,” she said on a laugh, dropping back to sit beside him. She then hugged him excitedly. “You showed Pembroke, Lord Findlay. Beat him by at least three carriage lengths. Well done, my lord!”
“Call me Charles,” he murmured by her ear, his arm slipping around her waist to prolong what she’d intended to be a quick congratulatory hug.
Lisa hesitated, very aware that they were now on a much more secluded path leading through the woods. She eased back and smiled up at him crookedly. “Charles, then. But we should turn back. The others will wonder where we have got to.”
She glanced over his shoulder then, wondering where Pembroke’s carriage was. He had been three lengths behind them when Charles had raced the phaeton into the trees, the end point for this race. But his phaeton was nowhere to be seen now. Actually, there was no one on the path. They were quite alone, she realized as he began to slow the phaeton.
“I will turn around at the first opportunity,” Charles assured her, removing his arm as she eased from his embrace to sit beside him more properly. “There is a small turnaround ahead on the right that we can use.”
Lisa nodded, trying not to look nervous. Surely Findlay wasn’t the suitor. He was far too handsome and refined to need to kidnap young women. Besides, even if he was, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to simply ride off with her now. Everyone would know he had taken her. Bet, Lord Pembroke, Lord Tibald and two other gentlemen all knew where she was, or at least who she was with.
“Here we are,” Charles murmured, distracting her from her thoughts and she glanced around to see that he was turning them into a small roundabout in a clearing.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” Lisa cried, her gaze sliding over the small field of purple flowers bordering the roundabout.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed, slowing to a halt halfway around.
“What kind of flowers do you think they are?” she asked leaning to the side to get a better look.
“I have no idea. I’m afraid I have little to no knowledge of flowers,” he said apologetically shifting behind her to look as well. He was close enough his breath brushed her cheek as he added, “But they are lovely. They match your gown. Would you like some?”
Lisa
“If you are referring to Miss Lisa and her guests, I believe they have gone to the park so that Lord Findlay and Lord Pembroke could prove who had the faster phaeton,” the man answered calmly.
Robert stared at him silently for a moment with disbelief, and then whirled on his heel and headed for the front door. His mind wasn’t silent however. It was having a good old rant. Here he was giving up his bed for a guest room in the Radnor townhouse to look after her, and what did she do? She rushed off to the park with a gaggle of lords, any one of whom could be the mysterious suitor who had planned to kidnap and have his way with her.
Had she gone mad? Because the Lisa Madison he knew and had grown up being chased about by would never be this stupid and reckless. Did she want to be kidnapped and ravished? Was she so devastated by his seeing her as only a little sister that she would risk herself this way? He would wring her beautiful little neck when he found her.
“B ravo!” Lisa yelled, jumping up and clapping her hands as the phaeton she rode in left the open path and was first to the agreed-upon finishing line. They had won the race. Well, Charles had, she acknowledged with a laugh. She had just been lucky enough to ride along for the race, Lisa supposed, and turned to grin down at the man at the reins.
Findlay chuckled at her enthusiasm, but switched the reins to one hand and raised his other to catch her arm and steady her. “While I am happy you are happy, Miss Madison, you should really sit down. I would not want you to catapult out of the carriage when we slow down.”
“Call me Lisa,” she said on a laugh, dropping back to sit beside him. She then hugged him excitedly. “You showed Pembroke, Lord Findlay. Beat him by at least three carriage lengths. Well done, my lord!”
“Call me Charles,” he murmured by her ear, his arm slipping around her waist to prolong what she’d intended to be a quick congratulatory hug.
Lisa hesitated, very aware that they were now on a much more secluded path leading through the woods. She eased back and smiled up at him crookedly. “Charles, then. But we should turn back. The others will wonder where we have got to.”
She glanced over his shoulder then, wondering where Pembroke’s carriage was. He had been three lengths behind them when Charles had raced the phaeton into the trees, the end point for this race. But his phaeton was nowhere to be seen now. Actually, there was no one on the path. They were quite alone, she realized as he began to slow the phaeton.
“I will turn around at the first opportunity,” Charles assured her, removing his arm as she eased from his embrace to sit beside him more properly. “There is a small turnaround ahead on the right that we can use.”
Lisa nodded, trying not to look nervous. Surely Findlay wasn’t the suitor. He was far too handsome and refined to need to kidnap young women. Besides, even if he was, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to simply ride off with her now. Everyone would know he had taken her. Bet, Lord Pembroke, Lord Tibald and two other gentlemen all knew where she was, or at least who she was with.
“Here we are,” Charles murmured, distracting her from her thoughts and she glanced around to see that he was turning them into a small roundabout in a clearing.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” Lisa cried, her gaze sliding over the small field of purple flowers bordering the roundabout.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed, slowing to a halt halfway around.
“What kind of flowers do you think they are?” she asked leaning to the side to get a better look.
“I have no idea. I’m afraid I have little to no knowledge of flowers,” he said apologetically shifting behind her to look as well. He was close enough his breath brushed her cheek as he added, “But they are lovely. They match your gown. Would you like some?”
Lisa
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