The Lady Confesses. Carole Mortimer

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      ‘Introduce the two of us, Osbourne,’ the other man instructed curtly.

      ‘Betsy Thompson. Sir Rufus Tennant.’ The earl’s terseness was evidence of his irritation at the other man’s high-handedness.

      ‘Miss Thompson.’ Sir Rufus Tennant sketched her a bow. ‘Do I have your permission to call upon you tomorrow?’

      Elizabeth was rendered momentarily speechless for the second time in the past few minutes. That Sir Rufus believed her to be a guest at Mrs Wilson’s home was obvious. That she was not was made glaringly obvious to Elizabeth as Nathaniel answered the other man.

      ‘Miss Thompson is my aunt’s companion, and will no doubt be busy about her duties if you should decide to call tomorrow,’ he bit out harshly. ‘But I am sure Mrs Wilson will be only too pleased to receive you.’

      Elizabeth, although aware that Sir Rufus’s searching gaze was still fixed firmly upon her, remained stoically and uncomfortably silent, having been reminded all too forcibly that companions to wealthy ladies did not receive visits from titled gentlemen.

      ‘Are you going to remain silent for the whole of our walk back to Hepworth Manor, too?’ Nathaniel snapped, his ribs now aching abominably from the force necessary to quieten Tennant’s mount, an ache not helped in the least by the quickness of the pace Elizabeth had set for the both of them. No doubt in her hurry to be free of his company!

      ‘I had thought you would prefer it, my lord,’ she responded. ‘I am sure that the tedious chattering of a mere lady’s companion would grate upon a gentleman’s nerves!’ she obviously could not resist adding waspishly.

      Once again Nathaniel was alerted to the contradictions that surrounded this young woman. That Tennant had also believed her to be a lady of quality from the mere sound of her voice had been obvious from his request to call upon her tomorrow—a request Nathaniel had found not in the least pleasing! Any more than Elizabeth had obviously found the sharpness of his reply to Tennant to her liking.

      ‘I do not find the chattering of this particular lady’s companion in the least tedious,’ Nathaniel admitted.

      Glittering blue eyes were turned to him in the darkness. ‘I find that very hard to believe, my lord!’

      ‘Why is that, Elizabeth?’

      ‘I have told you not to—’

      ‘And I have told you that when we are alone I have every intention of addressing you as Elizabeth.’

      She gave him an exasperated glance. ‘And as I am employed by your aunt I am to have no say in the matter?’

      He gave a shrug. ‘Do you prefer the name of Betsy?’

      She gave an inelegant snort. ‘Of course I do not.’

      ‘Then why object to my calling you Elizabeth?’

      ‘Because you did not ask, my lord, you told.’ There was the heat of anger in her voice.

      ‘Very well.’ Nathaniel gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘May I address you as Elizabeth when we are alone?’

      ‘No!’ she obviously took great delight in denying him.

      ‘Now you are just being deliberately difficult,’ he rasped impatiently. ‘Is all this indignation because I told Tennant that you are employed by my aunt?’

      Elizabeth stiffened. ‘Why should I be in the least concerned at your having stated the truth?’

      ‘I have no idea, I only know that—damn it to hell!’ Nathaniel had turned to take a firm grasp of Elizabeth’s arms, only to then draw his breath in sharply as the agony in his chest caused him to abruptly release her and fight back the urge to double over with the pain.

      ‘My lord?’ Elizabeth was full of concern as she turned to him in the darkness.

      ‘I apologise for my language,’ Nathaniel grated through clenched teeth as he slowly straightened.

      ‘Never mind that now.’ She gave an agitated shake of her head, dark curls bouncing beneath her bonnet. ‘You have hurt yourself again—’

      ‘I have merely exacerbated the original injury,’ he corrected, jaw tightly clamped to ward off the pain. ‘Owing, no doubt, to the fact that I had to step in and save you from your own recklessness!’

      Her indignation returned. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I expected at any moment to see you trampled to death beneath the horse’s hooves.’ Nathaniel glared down at her accusingly. ‘What on earth did you think you were about, leaping into the fray in that way?’

      ‘I assure you I knew exactly what I was doing.’

      ‘Indeed?’ Nathaniel scorned.

      ‘I was put upon my first horse at the age of—’ She broke off abruptly, lips closing firmly together as she realised she had said too much.

      Or not enough, Nathaniel thought with considerable frustration. If it should turn out that Elizabeth Thompson was the daughter of some minor and impoverished gentleman, as he was seriously beginning to believe she might be, then his behaviour towards her earlier could place him in a very awkward position. A very awkward position, indeed …

      ‘Yes, you were saying?’ he encouraged persuasively.

      Elizabeth straightened. ‘Let me help you back to the house, my lord.’

      ‘I am in pain, Elizabeth, not crippled!’ Nathaniel gave a wince at the excess of aggression in his tone as she attempted to take his arm.

      Her hand fell back to her side. ‘Then perhaps, sir, you should look to your own actions before criticising my own.’

      ‘How so?’ Nathaniel frowned.

      She gave a curt nod. ‘If you had not become involved in a drunken brawl, then you would not have received the injuries from which you now suffer.’

      ‘And if I received these injuries in the defence of a lady?’ he offered drily, the waves of pain starting to recede now.

      She raised sceptical brows. ‘I find that very hard to believe. A lady of quality would never have placed herself in the position of needing such a defence,’ she added as Nathaniel looked enquiringly at her.

      That might well be true. Although, as Nathaniel’s friend Lord Dominic Vaughn, Earl of Blackstone, had stated that he intended making the lady in question his wife as soon as was possible, it would perhaps be prudent on Nathaniel’s part to keep that opinion to himself! ‘I am sure that you would never place yourself in such a position,’ he drawled instead.

      Elizabeth frowned, obviously suspecting that he was mocking her. ‘I am a lady’s companion, my lord, not a lady,’ she informed him haughtily as she resumed her walk back to Hepworth Manor.

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