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Authors: Dorothy McFalls
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residence. It was the only summer home she’d ever really known. Excitement rather than fear bubbled in her gut.
In a few moments, he would help her sneak in the back door. Soon she would be tucked safely in her bed and no one would be the wiser. And wasn’t that, after all, the allure of any adventure?
Danger—whether to her safety, her virtue, or of discovery—was an integral ingredient to the thrill she’d been experiencing. If it had been otherwise, her late-night swim in the King’s Bath wouldn’t have been any more exciting than a stroll through Sydney Gardens.
And it was this surge of danger she definitely wished to experience again—and soon. How and when would she get a chance to taste such a delicious thrill again? She would simply have to convince Lord Nathan that she needed another lesson.
But how?
Her racing heart slammed to an abrupt stop.
She was getting ahead of herself. Before planning any future escapades, she’d have to survive this night first. Iona blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing—or her rotten luck.
Two grooms were guiding her father’s ducal carriage into the rubble-stone coaching house.
“My parents came home early,” she whispered, a lump in her throat.
“So it appears,” Lord Nathan replied.
“Without me…”
The kernel of excitement she’d been relishing flared into a very real throb of panic.
“They returned home without me.” She turned in the seat just as he pulled the curricle to a stop at the gate. “Whatever shall I tell them?”
He heaved a deep sigh before setting the reins on the seat. Stepping over her, he jumped down. His boots sloshed as he landed on the ground. He then reached up to hand her down.
“You will tell them nothing. I shall come inside with you and speak to your father,” he said as his hands settled around her waist, “and do my best to explain.”
“And propose marriage?” she asked, resisting his attempts to help her down from his curricle.
“If necessary… Please, let’s not have this conversation with you shouting down at me. Let me help you to the ground.”
“No,” she said. “I am firm on my decision. I do not agree that you need to offer your hand in marriage over this. Nothing that shocking happened. Besides, despite your reputation, I consider you my friend…and nothing more.”
He winced at the wording but she plodded on. “You are simply a friend who has given me quite a lesson this evening. I’ll not reward you by looping the matrimonial noose around your neck.”
Again, she fended off his attempts to lift her down from his curricle. She’d rather tower over him while having this conversation. He was too tall and too headstrong for her to wage battle on equal footing.
And she hadn’t been shouting. In fact, she never shouted. A forced whisper, a little louder than necessary, was how she’d describe her tone.
“I could run away,” she suggested, lowering her voice even further. “Never return home.”
“Family banishment is never much of an option, Lady Iona.”
“No, I suppose not,” she said and chewed on the inside of her cheek. “You may as well lift me down now.”
Without another word, he lifted her down to the pavement and then led her through the neighboring garden and helped her climb over a small brick wall. Thanks to his keen eye, they made it to the back entrance without attracting any of the servants’ notice.
She supposed she should be pleased that he went along with her charade. She might still be able to pull the wool over her family’s eyes about her evening’s adventure. Yet, the likelihood of her actually doing so was dimming at an alarming speed.
Several lights glowed through the windows of the first floor rooms. Iona tried not to imagine what might be taking place in the parlor or her father’s study, both appeared to be brightly lit. Was her father pacing the study floor? Were his hands locked behind his back in a stance he often took when he wished to
In a few moments, he would help her sneak in the back door. Soon she would be tucked safely in her bed and no one would be the wiser. And wasn’t that, after all, the allure of any adventure?
Danger—whether to her safety, her virtue, or of discovery—was an integral ingredient to the thrill she’d been experiencing. If it had been otherwise, her late-night swim in the King’s Bath wouldn’t have been any more exciting than a stroll through Sydney Gardens.
And it was this surge of danger she definitely wished to experience again—and soon. How and when would she get a chance to taste such a delicious thrill again? She would simply have to convince Lord Nathan that she needed another lesson.
But how?
Her racing heart slammed to an abrupt stop.
She was getting ahead of herself. Before planning any future escapades, she’d have to survive this night first. Iona blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing—or her rotten luck.
Two grooms were guiding her father’s ducal carriage into the rubble-stone coaching house.
“My parents came home early,” she whispered, a lump in her throat.
“So it appears,” Lord Nathan replied.
“Without me…”
The kernel of excitement she’d been relishing flared into a very real throb of panic.
“They returned home without me.” She turned in the seat just as he pulled the curricle to a stop at the gate. “Whatever shall I tell them?”
He heaved a deep sigh before setting the reins on the seat. Stepping over her, he jumped down. His boots sloshed as he landed on the ground. He then reached up to hand her down.
“You will tell them nothing. I shall come inside with you and speak to your father,” he said as his hands settled around her waist, “and do my best to explain.”
“And propose marriage?” she asked, resisting his attempts to help her down from his curricle.
“If necessary… Please, let’s not have this conversation with you shouting down at me. Let me help you to the ground.”
“No,” she said. “I am firm on my decision. I do not agree that you need to offer your hand in marriage over this. Nothing that shocking happened. Besides, despite your reputation, I consider you my friend…and nothing more.”
He winced at the wording but she plodded on. “You are simply a friend who has given me quite a lesson this evening. I’ll not reward you by looping the matrimonial noose around your neck.”
Again, she fended off his attempts to lift her down from his curricle. She’d rather tower over him while having this conversation. He was too tall and too headstrong for her to wage battle on equal footing.
And she hadn’t been shouting. In fact, she never shouted. A forced whisper, a little louder than necessary, was how she’d describe her tone.
“I could run away,” she suggested, lowering her voice even further. “Never return home.”
“Family banishment is never much of an option, Lady Iona.”
“No, I suppose not,” she said and chewed on the inside of her cheek. “You may as well lift me down now.”
Without another word, he lifted her down to the pavement and then led her through the neighboring garden and helped her climb over a small brick wall. Thanks to his keen eye, they made it to the back entrance without attracting any of the servants’ notice.
She supposed she should be pleased that he went along with her charade. She might still be able to pull the wool over her family’s eyes about her evening’s adventure. Yet, the likelihood of her actually doing so was dimming at an alarming speed.
Several lights glowed through the windows of the first floor rooms. Iona tried not to imagine what might be taking place in the parlor or her father’s study, both appeared to be brightly lit. Was her father pacing the study floor? Were his hands locked behind his back in a stance he often took when he wished to
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