Chapter Seven
Anne frowned as she bounced her gaze between the two men. Where Benedict was possessed of dark hair and a shorter, more fit frame, Lord Randolph had golden hair with a tall, lean body. His clothing was meticulously tailored, almost as if he’d landed in Beau Brummell’s parlor, while Benedict wore his with a devil-may-care nonchalance to let his personality shine through. Originally, she’d sought Benedict out in the event he wished to try again for a second kiss, but what she found instead was unsettling.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand. As I approached this room, I heard you discussing my ballooning skills.” Irritation flared within her chest. “Why?” It wasn’t like the viscount to gossip—she assumed, since she didn’t know him well.
“All good things, I assure you,” he replied with the grin that she was beginning to understand meant he was amused. Then he crossed the room and yanked on a navy brocade bell pull. “Perhaps it’s better explained over tea.”
Lord Randolph came close. He took possession of her hand and brought it to his lips, where he lingered for a fraction of a second too long. “Charmed. I’ve been hoping to make your acquaintance for a while.”
“Whyever for?” She snatched her hand away and put it behind her back. “Most people only want to meet me to further the gossip or to openly gawk.” Surely Benedict wasn’t as cruel as that to invite a friend here to perpetuate such behavior.
“Set your mind at ease, Lady Anne.” He ushered her over to a low sofa, and when she settled, he sat beside her. “I’m not one of those. I have only respect and admiration for you.”
From behind her, Benedict snorted. Once he’d ordered tea when the butler appeared, he took a spot in a chair to the side of her location. “How’s that, Randolph?” He frowned, but it wasn’t directed at her. Did he not like his friend sitting so close?
How interesting.
The man waved off Benedict’s comment. “It’s no crime to benefit from the lady’s skill, especially if the end result accomplishes many tasks.”
She met Benedict’s eyes. “Perhaps you should explain.”
“Indeed.” He rested an ankle on a knee, the perfect image of a man at leisure while pushing his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose. “By week’s end, a traveling fair will occupy part of my land. I give them permission to camp there each year because I believe everyone should have a chance to make a life however way they see fit.”
“I understand that.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “But what does that have to do with me?”
Hemsley brought in a tea service. He laid it on the low table in front of them, and once he left, both men looked at her with expectation.
“Neanderthals,” she muttered beneath her breath. “I suppose since I’m the only female in the room, you’d like for me to pour out?”
Benedict nodded. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Just this once, but next time, you’ll need to learn the skill for yourself.” She made certain to infuse her voice with teasing, for he had treated her well an as an equal since she’d arrived at Worthington Hall. “Now, tell me about the fair,” she said as she took up a cup and the teapot.
Lord Randolph grinned. “I’m sure you’re familiar with Mr. Davies?”
“Oh, yes.” The sourness of bile came up the back of her throat as she handed a cup of tea to Benedict. “What of him?”
“Besides him being an inflated bastard?” Lord Randolph leaned forward. “Mr. Davies is touting all over London he’s the best balloonist in England.”
“Is that so?” Her eyebrows rose, and her had shook ever so slightly as she poured out another cup of tea for him. “What a twat.”
Both men chuckled with pure masculine contentment. This time Benedict spoke. “What if we invited him to the fair and ask him to go against you in a flight over Cranleigh?”
Her heartbeat accelerated. She gave the other man a cup of tea and quickly, she filled one for herself. “You want me to pilot my balloon over Cranleigh in competition with Mr. Davies?”
“Yes.” The golden-haired Adonis nodded.
“That’s a infant distance and he’d laugh at me. It’s not enough to entice him to come.”
Benedict frowned. “Then what is an appropriate distance?”
Lord Randolph cut into the conversation. “What about from Cranleigh to the first town in the next county over?”
“Can it be done?” Benedict asked her.
Anne took a sip of her tea, so surprised that she hadn’t included cream or sugar in hers. “Oh, there’s no doubt that it can.”
“By you?” Lord Randolph pressed as he leaned forward.