Unmasked by Nicola Cornick Page B

would not wish to delay you further.”
    Nick allowed himself a smile at this blatant piece of falsehood. “How thoughtful of you, ma’am. But I was going nowhere in particular, merely enjoying a morning walk.”
    She looked at him sideways from under those deliciously long lashes. “You are up early for the morning after a ball.”
    “So are you.”
    She unhooked the horse’s reins from the gate and looped them over her arm. Her back was turned to him. She did not reply. Nick was impressed. In his experience, very few people let silences hang. Mostly they rushed to fill them. It took nerves of steel to resist that urge, particularly if one were hiding something.
    “Perhaps,” he continued, “you do not sleep well?”
    She flashed him a look that would have withered a cactus. “Perhaps you should keep your impertinent observations to yourself, Major Falconer.”
    He grinned. “I see. You will not give me an insight into your sleeping habits?”
    “Certainly not!”
    “But you have no guilty conscience to keep you awake?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “I get up early because I enjoy the summer morning, that is all.”
    She gestured to a small purse that was attached to her waist. “This is the best time to collect the plants I use for my herbal remedies.”
    Nick raised his brows. “I see you are the modern equivalent of the village witch, Mrs. Osborne. Who would have thought it?”
    “It is medicine, not witchcraft,” she said. Her face was flushed now, her brows arched in genuine disdain. “You do not strike me as a superstitious man, Major Falconer. To consider herbal remedies magic not science is willful ignorance.”
    She opened the purse to check that the contents were not damaged and the sweet scent of mint hung for a moment on the air. Apparently satisfied, she clipped the purse more firmly to her waist and then guided the horse back through the gate. When she turned to close it behind her, Nick caught it in one hand and held it open to pass through. Mari’s brows immediately snapped down in an intimidating frown.
    “Why are you accompanying me, Major Falconer?” she demanded. “There is absolutely no need and I have already expressed a disinclination for your company.”
    “I do believe that my road back is the same as yours,” Nick said pleasantly. “It will reassure me to accompany you so that I can ensure you take no further hurt.”
    There was no doubt that she was irritated by his insistence, but the only sign she gave was to bite her rather luscious lower lip very firmly between her teeth as though repressing some sharp retort. Nick retrieved her saucy little hat from the grass and handed it to her.
    “This is yours, I believe.” He turned it over in his hands. “A curious choice, if I may say so, Mrs. Osborne, for a woman who presents herself as an irreproachably respectable widow.”
    Mari frowned as she took it from him. “Whatever can you mean, Major Falconer? There is nothing remotely disreputable about this hat!”
    Nick gave her a wicked smile. “It is very provocative, Mrs. Osborne. Just like you. You are what you wear.” His smile grew. “Or what you do not wear.”
    Mari took the hat and crammed it down fiercely on her head, squashing it slightly in the process.
    “You are scandalous, Major Falconer,” she said, with arctic cold.
    “Not I,” Nick said. “You are the one whose behavior is outrageous, Mrs. Osborne, and it surprises me that no one in Peacock Oak has yet realized it.”
    She gave him a look of searing scorn. “Whereas you, Major Falconer, have been here all of a day and think yourself so perceptive that you know me already. I assure you that you know nothing!”
    “What I do not know,” Nick said, “I intend to find out.”
    She looked at him and the challenge flashed between them, along with a sensation so hot and primitive that Nick felt it rip through his body. He held himself still through sheer willpower and held her gaze, and Mari was the first to