“For you,” he said as he handed her the impromptu bouquet. “With my sincerest apologies.”
She took his offering, staring down at the flowers for a few seconds before glancing back at him. Then to his amazement, she burst out laughing.
“What is so funny?” he asked as he took up the reins. “Is something wrong with them?” He glanced over at the blossoms now clutched in her hand. They looked perfectly fine to him. Certainly not one of the faultless orchids his father grew, but they’d been offered sincerely.
“Nothing,” she finally said. “They’re perfect.”
How perfect, he just didn’t realize.
Amanda stared down at the flowers and wondered at the irony of his offering. Forget-me-nots. He’d given her a bouquet of forget-me-nots, while he’d forgotten her.
Utterly and completely.
But she hadn’t forgotten him. Not once in all these years had a day passed that she hadn’t thought of the only man who deigned to dance with her during her first and only miserable Season.
And now he was the one stealing her away from her dire fate. Oh, the absurdity of it plucked at her heart.
Why, he’d even tried to kiss her. She cursed her years at Miss Emery’s school, lessons drilled into her that had prompted her (quite against her wishes) to dodge his attempt. Now she might never have another opportunity.
He tapped the reins, and the horse started off, ambling down the pleasant country drive. When they came to the main road, instead of turning onto it, he crossed it and set off across a barely used track.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He nodded at the grassy lane before them. “This way is less traveled. Though it will take longer, we’re not as likely to run into the magistrate or the constable. Can you imagine the scandal if we were to be tossed into jail together?”
Amanda glanced over at him. His mouth was set in a serious line, but there was a teasing light in his eyes that shocked her. He was flirting with her.
In her entire life, no man had ever flirted with her. Especially not one as rakish as Jemmy Reyburn. She wasn’t too sure what she should do.
Flirt back, a mischievous voice clamored over her straitlaced thoughts.
No, I shouldn’t, she told herself, resorting to the same fears and admonitions that had ruled her life for five and twenty years.
No, she couldn’t think like that anymore. This was her adventure, her chance to live the life she’d always fancied…
She laughed aloud at the irony of all of it.
“What is so funny now?” he asked.
“All of this.” She waved her hand at the cart and the countryside. “I’m fleeing a matchmaker.”
“You won’t be laughing if we get caught,” he reminded her.
She glanced up at him. “I assume, Mr. Reyburn, given your rather scandalous reputation, you will endeavor not to be caught. Besides, I suspect you could charm your way past a hangman’s noose, as well as this magistrate who inspires such terror.”
“You hold me in high esteem for someone who purports not to know me.” His brows arched and he paused, as if waiting for her to enlighten him.
Amanda wasn’t about to have him discover the truth, so she said, “You look rather capable.”
“Hardly that. I can’t even climb into a pony cart without a lady’s assistance.Apony cart, mind you.”
“Oh, bother that,” she told him quite emphatically. “There is more to a man’s measure than the carriage he chooses or how he gets into it—or out of it, as the case may be. What makes you admirable is that you’re helping me, despite the obvious risk.” For good measure, she winked at him, as he had done to her earlier.
“I have to admit this is entirely more enjoyable than listening to my mother prattle on all day about heirs and duty.” He tipped his hat back and grinned. “In truth, I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
“And why is that?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine the Jemmy Reyburn she remembered not living a day of his life that wasn’t filled with some great series of amusements or lively jests.
“I don’t go to Town anymore, and we don’t have too many visitors out here.”