Regency Innocents: The Earl's Untouched Bride / Captain Fawley's Innocent Bride. ANNIE BURROWS

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      ‘I thought you scoffed at people who disliked falling from horses. I seem to remember you saying—’

      ‘Yes, I remember very well what I said. If the horse had been trotting, or even walking, it might not have been so humiliating. But the horrid creature was standing perfectly still when I fell off. If I can fall off a stationary horse, which is being held at the head by a groom, I cannot think how much worse it will be should the brute try to move.’

      ‘Are you badly hurt?’ Charles frowned, suddenly wondering whether her tears and her evident discomfort might stem from more than wounded pride. ‘Should I send for a doctor?’

      So, after a perfunctory check, he was going to palm her off on another person? If they had the relationship a husband and wife ought to have, he would be running his hands over her bruises right now, assuring himself that nothing important was damaged. Instead of which he had handed her a drink, with a mocking smile twisting his lips.

      ‘I don’t need a doctor.’ She sighed. I need a husband. A husband who would put his arms round me and tell me everything is all right, that he is not ashamed of his stupid little wife, or disappointed in her failure to help poor Robert.

      Mutinously, she went to the bellrope and tugged on it viciously. ‘I wish to change out of these clothes now,’ she informed him. And take a bath. Unless there is anything else you wish to say to me?’

      Charles bowed politely, remarking, ‘Only that I hope, when your temper has cooled a little, you will endeavour to mend fences with Robert. I have invited him to dine with us this evening. It is the first time that he has agreed to do so. I would not wish it to be his last.’

      Heloise glared at the door through which he departed. Not a word of thanks for her efforts, abortive though they had been. Only a stern warning to watch her behaviour at dinner this evening, so as not to offend his precious brother any further. He had not even bothered to find out what the boor had said to upset her!

      Nothing she ever did would please him.

      Very well, then, she would start pleasing herself. She tore at the silver buttons of her riding habit with trembling fingers. She would dismiss the horrible dresser who looked down her nose at her. As a pair of housemaids came in, carrying towels and cans of hot water, she eyed them speculatively. Her husband seemed to employ dozens of staff. If she could not find one amongst them with whom she could strike up a tolerable relationship, then she would advertise for an experienced lady’s maid and begin to conduct interviews. If nothing else, it would give her something to fill the endless monotony of her days.

      And as for tonight … Oh, Lord! She sank into the steaming fragrant water of her bath and bowed her head over her raised knees. Charles would be watching her like a hawk. Robert would resent her for being the catalyst that had forced the two men to eat at the same table. She would be like a raw steak being fought over by two butcher’s dogs.

      By the time she entered the little salon Robert and Charles were already there, sitting on either side of the fireplace, sipping their drinks in a silence fraught with tension. Both, to her surprise, looked relieved to see her.

      ‘I believe I owe you an apology,’ Robert said, struggling to his feet.

      She merely raised one eyebrow as she perched on the edge of the third chair which had been set before the hearth.

      All right, dash it! I know I owe you an apology. I should never have used such language to a female …’

      ‘Not even a French female?’ she replied archly, accepting the drink the footman handed to her. ‘Who is not even of noble birth, is an enemy of your country, and most probably a spy to boot?’

      Flushing darkly, Robert muttered, ‘If I said any of those things to you this morning …’

      ‘If?’

      ‘All right. I admit I said a lot more besides the swearing I have reason to apologise for! But don’t you think it is pretty disgusting behaviour to laugh at a cripple?’

      ‘Oh, I was not laughing at you, Robert.’ Heloise reached a hand towards him impulsively, her eyes filling with tears. ‘No wonder you got so cross, if that was what you thought. It would indeed have been the most unforgivable behaviour if that was so!’

      ‘But you were laughing …’

      ‘It was the horse! When you went to climb onto him from the right side it looked so surprised. I have never seen such an expression on an animal’s face before.’ A smile twitched her lips at the memory. And it turned to stare at you, and it tried to turn round to place you on what it thought was the correct side, and the groom was dodging about under its head, and you were clutching onto the saddle to stop from falling off the mounting block …’

      ‘I suppose it must have looked pretty funny from where you were sitting,’ Robert grudgingly admitted. ‘Only you have no idea how I felt—too damned clumsy to mount a slug like that, when I’ve always been accounted a natural in the saddle.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Robert. But you have to admit I received just punishment for my thoughtlessness.’

      He barked out a harsh laugh. Aye. You should have seen her, Walton. Laughed herself right out of the saddle. Lost her balance and landed on the cobbles at my feet …’

      ‘With you swearing down at me while I was struggling to untangle all those yards of riding habit from my legs …’

      And the grooms not knowing where to look, or how to keep their faces straight …’

      ‘It sounds better than the pantomime,’ Charles put in dryly. ‘Ah, Giddings, it is good to see you back with us. I take it your presence indicates that our dinner is ready?’

      Charles had tactfully arranged for the meal to be brought to a small round table set in the alcove formed by the bay windows, so that Robert had very little walking to do.

      Linney took a position behind Robert’s chair. When Charles’ footman approached him with a tureen of soup, the man took it from him, ladling a portion into a bowl for his master himself. For the first time it occurred to Heloise just how difficult it must be to eat a meal with only one arm, and how demeaning it must be for a man in his prime to have to rely on someone else to cut up his food for him. How he must hate having others watching the proof of his disability.

      Desperate to introduce some topic of conversation—anything to break the strained silence which reigned at the table—she asked Giddings, ‘Did I not meet you in Paris?’

      Although he was somewhat surprised to be addressed, the butler regally inclined his head in the affirmative.

      ‘How was your trip back to England? I hope your crossing was smooth?’

      ‘Indeed, once I was at sea I felt heartily relieved, my lady,’ he unbent enough to admit.

      ‘Did you dislike France so much?’

      The butler looked to his lordship for a cue as to how he should answer. Instead, Charles answered for him.

      ‘You have evidently not heard the news, my lady. Bonaparte has escaped from Elba. On the very eve of our marriage, he landed at Cannes with a thousand men and began his march on Paris.’

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