The young lady lingered on the portico of his house, half behind one of the brick pillars. She peered out, her eyes wide with dismay. Her shocking red hair coiled about her pale face, and her cloak swung about her.
A sign she had run up the steps to escape the beast before her.
“Did you just try to kill me?” he bellowed.
“Your Grace”—her chin lifted in the most delightful of manners—“not on purpose.”
He propped himself up on the damp ground. “You admit, then, that you could have been complicit in my murder?”
“Indeed,” she confessed. “My apologies.”
“It is heartening to know you’d feel remorse,” he said drily.
Her lips twitched. “I did not say that.”
Chase fought a laugh. He liked her.
He murmured a few comforting words to his stallion, who dropped his head and nuzzled him. “Go on, then. Go on, then, you great beast,” he urged.
Knowing exactly what he was supposed to do, the stallion let out a whicker and walked a few steps away to munch upon the grass that grew alongside the drive.
“Since my state, at your own admission, is largely your fault, come and assist me.”
Her face paled. And she eyed the stallion.
“Don’t worry. He’s not going to trample you for nearly killing his master.”
“He’s quite large,” she pointed out.
His lips twitched. “Yes, he is. But he’s also as gentle as a lamb. It’s why he tossed me when he saw you.”
“He’s frightened?” she asked, skeptical.
“Oh yes. Rabbits terrify him.”
“Rabbits?” she echoed.
He nodded, his hip throbbing. He could stand, of course. Pain was something he was familiar with. But some inner devil wanted to see if she’d help him. “Now, come here, if you will.”
She hesitated.
He cocked his head to the side. “I did not think that you were easily frightened.”
That did the trick. Her shoulders straightened, and she took the steps carefully. Her eyes never quite left the stallion, though.
And then finally, when the tips of her boots nearly skimmed his breech-clad thigh, she swung her gaze to him.
Their eyes met.
Once again, he felt that strange sensation at being in her presence. She was the perfect match for him. He knew that. She wasn’t desirable. She wasn’t what men thought they were supposed to want in a woman.
Yes…she was perfect for him. He should have felt at ease, knowing he’d never wish to bed her.
But he didn’t. She made him curious in other ways.
Still, he was pleased that she had come. Finally, society would leave him alone. And marriage to Victoria would ensure he’d not betray the vow he’d made to his father that infamous day.
“Come,” he said softly, doing his best to appear unthreatening. “Give me your hand and pull me up.”