“Another Kean,” Devlin remarked to Julian, who was lightly stroking Cannon’s neck. He had one eye on Sophie, and it wasn’t a fond eye, Roxanne saw.
Devlin said, “I am the one who is fatigued, my dear. Julian and I both walked here, since some foul individual stole his horse, and he was, as I said, already fatigued from walking so quickly.”
“Where did you go?” Sophie asked Julian.
Julian gave her a harassed look. “Nowhere, only a walk in the home wood to think about things.”
He was lying, Sophie knew it to her stockinged feet. Did anyone else?
How can she know I’m lying? I know she does, I can see it in her eyes. Julian had brooded, albeit in his cave, not in the home wood. It had taken him a goodly amount of time to walk from Hardcross Manor to his cave by the river. He hadn’t ridden Cannon, he could be seen, his presence wondered at. No, he wanted no one to know where he’d gone. He’d had to see if his boyhood cave would be an acceptable hideout for smuggled-in goods. It was perfect. He had sat on the sandy floor, leaned back against a wall, and planned out his next and last smuggling run. Time to end it all.
It was a pity.
Devlin said, “I could not very well ride with him walking beside me, now, could I? So demeaning to Lord Julian.”
Julian strode up to Sophie, grabbed her arms, and shook her hard. “You stole my horse, damn you, after Bicker told you not to. You could have been thrown; you could have your damned neck broken.”
“I knew I could ride him, Julian, really, there was no danger. Stop looking at me like you want to drown me. And his whinny, it smote me. I felt sorry for him. He nearly begged me to give him some proper exercise. Really, we dealt very well together.”
“You twit, Cannon is my horse, not yours. What’s more, he’s mean as a drunken cutpurse. You deserve to be pulverized for this, Sophie.”
She saw the pulse pounding in his throat. Oh, dear, he was very angry with her indeed. She supposed she deserved it, but still, she was a fine horsewoman. He should have trusted her; he should have—oh, dear, she had been a twit. She realized he was more scared for her than angry, scared she could have been seriously hurt. She lightly laid her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Julian, truly, it—it wasn’t well done of me. I won’t do it again. Will you forgive me? Will you not pulverize me?”
He eyed her, said slowly, “You think I’m being unreasonable? I’m not, it’s just that—very well. You’re forgiven.”
He lightly touched his fingertips to her cheek. She was all right, thank the good Lord. He said, “As for that other one, Devlin, standing there looking all angelic, I fancy she wants to stake you out beneath a bright sun, to see what will happen.”
Sophie rounded on him. “However would you hear such a thing, sir? It is absurd.”
“I have a working brain, Sophie. Also, your plan at the Marksbury garden party set up quite a fine spate of gossip, which reached my ears very quickly.”
“How odd,” Devlin said, frowning, “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“I suppose that means more people than Sophie and I wish to see what would happen if your bare chest was exposed to the sun,” Roxanne said.
Devlin said, “I should not like that at all. Sun is the enemy.”
Roxanne said, “Nonsense. The warmth of the sun is delicious. Oh, dear, are you certain you must hide away from that glorious sun, Devlin? Let’s just see about that,” and she grabbed the black hat off Devlin’s head and raced back toward the home wood, her laughter wafting behind her.
Devlin sighed. “What do you think, Julian? Should I teach her some manners?”
“She will bring you low, Devlin, pay heed,” Sophie said.
Devlin ran toward the home wood.
“He is fleet of foot, isn’t he? Now,” Julian said, “we’re alone. Do you know, I thought Bicker would burst into tears when he saw me, swore to me he’d tried to talk you out of it, but she’s ‘a headstrong little bickel, more stubborn than me long-sainted ma,’ I believe he said.”
“So, this means you still haven’t forgiven me. But it’s true, Julian, Cannon was gentle as a lamb. He quite likes me.”
Julian handed her a carrot from his pocket. “Feed him, see if he bites off your fingers.”
Without hesitation, Sophie held out the carrot to Cannon, who licked it off her palm. She rubbed her hand on her skirt. “Ah, Julian, perhaps you could ride along beside me and give me pointers if Cannon goes into a snit?”
He placed both his hands around her throat. “No, I will not give you pointers. You will leave Cannon to me.”
“But—”
“You may not even lead Cannon about on a rope. I have decided you are brazen, ma’am, a baggage, and you want taming.”