Read Online Nicola and the Viscount by Meg Cabot - Free Book Online Page A

“These are some spirited animals, and sometimes it’s all I can do to keep ’em from bolting.”
    Nicola, annoyed by this, because she was quite certain it was perfectly untrue, unless of course the Milksop rode his horses with such a heavy hand that they had occasionally to rebel, snapped, “Well, then you had better sell them at once and purchase a pair you’re better capable of handling.”
    This was apparently not the response the Milksop had been looking for, as he appeared quite disappointed. Nicola supposed, with some disgust, that he’d been hoping she’d cry, “Oh, Harold! Protect me!” and fling her hands around his arm. As if it had been she, and not he, who’d been too scared to try the Catch Me Who Can !
    Looking irritated, Harold chirruped to the horses. As Nicola had expected they would, the fine animals broke into a steady trot without any sudden lurches, being well-trained and intelligent creatures…far more intelligent, she was certain, than their owner.
    â€œI was quite surprised to see you at Euston Square the other day,” the Milksop began as they entered the park. “I did not know you were fond of trains.”
    â€œOh,” Nicola said airily, keeping a steady eye on the carriages about them, and hoping that no one she knew would see her with a man who’d willingly wear such an ugly color. “I’m not particularly. But Lord Farelly adores them. And really, I found the whole thing quite diverting. It was thrilling to go so quickly.” She darted a sly look in his direction. “Didn’t you think so?”
    Harold, as she’d known he would, looked embarrassed. “Well, I didn’t actually ride the thing. Looked a bit dangerous to me.”
    Nicola, recalling how Harold had run from her anytime she’d happened to dig up a worm to show him during his occasional visits to Beckwell Abbey, was not at all surprised to hear that so fainthearted an individual would find Mr. Trevithick’s invention threatening.
    â€œWhat a shame,” she said, secretly thinking it quite typical of him. “It was terribly amusing.”
    â€œI suppose,” the Milksop said. “Still, it was hardly the sort of thing I’d ever expected to see you take part in, Nicola.”
    â€œMe?” Genuinely surprised, she turned to look at him. “Really?”
    â€œWell, you must admit”—the Milksop kept his attention on the reins, though the horses seemed hardly to need any direction, having taken to the track quite as if they did so several times a day, which, Nicola was certain, they most likely did—“it wasn’t the sort of thing one would hope to see a lady of one’s own acquaintance doing. I mean, cavorting aback a ridiculous contraption such as that.”
    Stung, Nicola retorted, “For your information, Lady Farelly approved of my riding on it. Lord Farelly paid my way, for that matter. He says that one day, people—ladies as well as gentlemen—will think nothing of hopping onto a train and going miles and miles away from home.”
    â€œThat may be,” the Milksop said, “but I didn’t notice Lady Farelly riding the Catch Me Who Can . Or her daughter, for that matter. You were the only lady aboard, if I recall.”
    Really, but this was just too much! It was quite one thing for the Milksop to pester her into going for a ride with him. But then to spend that ride rebuking her for taking part in something she’d had her host and hostess’s permission to do! It was too much. If Lady Honoria was correct, and Harold was in love with her, he certainly had a strange way of showing it.
    â€œI’ve had enough of riding today, Harold,” Nicola said with barely veiled anger. “I think you had better take me back to the Bartholomews’.”
    The Milksop astounded her by looking genuinely shocked to hear this.
    â€œGood Lord,” he said,