The Discerning Gentleman's Guide. Virginia Heath

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       Chapter Five

      A woman is like a delicate flower. It is your duty to protect her...

      ‘Miss Mansfield?’

      With no other option available to her, Amelia stopped dead and gave him a weak smile. It would have been innocent-looking if her face had not been frozen solid by the wind. ‘Oh, hello.’

      Stupid, stupid girl! She had promised Lovett faithfully that she would be back at Aveley House by four o’clock. Of course, then, she had only intended to help out at the soup kitchen. But Seven Dials had been positively buzzing with political rumour and outrage. Clearly, the plight of the poor had worsened in her absence.

      When she had found out that there was going to be a clandestine meeting of factory workers in Ludgate, to discuss the dangers of working with the new machines, she had thought that she would be able to attend, hail a hackney and be back in plenty of time. Unfortunately, the awful crush of people travelling had forced her to walk. Now she was horrifically late and completely chilled to the bone. She had been certain that the butler was going to kill her; now, it seemed, he would have no need. She was already doomed.

      ‘What are you doing here, all alone?’ he snapped, peering down at her from atop his horse. The animal’s hot breath formed puffy clouds in the frigid air and Amelia was sorely tempted to huddle beneath the beast’s nostrils in the hope that it might warm her a bit. ‘The London streets are dangerous for a woman alone once it gets dark!’

      ‘I l-l-lost track of t-t-time.’ Now her teeth were chattering as well. How splendid.

      ‘You are cold,’ he said, stating the obvious, and then he looked up and down the street as if he was searching for something. After a few seconds his face hardened and he glared at her imperiously. ‘There are no cabs.’

      ‘I am aware of that fact. H-h-hence I am walking home.’

      ‘My aunt will never forgive me if you catch a chill.’

      ‘Never mind, I am made of stern stuff. If I walk briskly, then I will soon warm up.’ Amelia began to walk, keen to be away from him and having to explain where she had been.

      ‘You cannot walk home alone.’

      His horse was trotting alongside her at a snail’s pace and appeared to be quite irritated about it. It glared at her accusingly as throngs of people began to swarm around them. ‘I shall be quite all right, I assure you. B-B-Berkeley Square is less than a m-m-mile away.’

      ‘Then I shall walk alongside you.’ To her horror he made to slide off his horse. Amelia held up her hand to stop him.

      ‘Really, there is no need. Your poor horse is already becoming agitated in this crowd. Take him home; I will not be far behind.’

      It took her a moment to realise that one of his gloved hands was outstretched. Surely His Royal Highness, the Duke of Pomposity, was not suggesting that she should ride on the horse with him? Just the two of them? On one saddle? In the middle of Piccadilly? Her disbelief must have been evident in her expression.

      ‘Come on,’ he said impatiently. ‘This is hardly the moment for you to become all missish. You are the one who decided it was perfectly acceptable to be out here alone. In the dark. Unchaperoned. If I stick to the back alleys, nobody will see us and we will be home in half the time. Besides, I can hardly leave you to fend for yourself, and I have no desire to walk when I have a perfectly good horse.’

      Words truly failed her. She would never have expected him to show such kindness to a lowly being like her. For a moment she considered how improper it would be for her to sit on the same horse as a man, then quickly decided that she did not care. Amelia was too cold to refuse him. If he was prepared to risk the impropriety, so was she.

      She grabbed his hand and found herself hoisted from the ground in one smooth motion, as if her weight was of no consequence, before she was deposited across the saddle and, by default, his lap. At a loss as to what else to do and feeling quite precarious, Amelia was forced to slide one hand about his waist just to balance herself while he guided the horse around the many pedestrians. Within minutes, they had left Piccadilly and entered a dark alleyway, away from the jammed main thoroughfare.

      Wordlessly, he adjusted his position on the saddle to give her more room, then arranged his arms so that they still held the reins but formed a safe cage around her. Another thoughtful gesture for her comfort, she noticed begrudgingly. He felt so warm and so solid it was difficult not to want to snuggle against him. Instead, Amelia tried to make polite conversation, in the hope that it might somehow serve to warm her or make her feel less awkward.

      ‘Thank you. It is very kind. I was not looking forward to walking the last mile home. It has got cold quickly, hasn’t it?’

      ‘It’s winter and it’s dark. What else did you expect?’ He sounded peeved again. Or perhaps that СКАЧАТЬ