by Merry Farmer
“You asked my brother for my hand?” Hattie turned an indignant look on Adrian and slipped her hand out of his.
“Of course.” Adrian shrugged. “No respectable suitor asks a lady to marry him without first consulting with one of her male relatives.”
“And when did you ask?” Hattie crossed her arms, looking like a slender, female version of her brother.
“That morning when he brought you back from your carriage wreck,” Trent answered.
“You asked my brother for my hand within hours of meeting me?” Hattie arched one eyebrow.
“I knew what I wanted from the moment your bruised and dusty head popped up from that ruined carriage,” Adrian answered, enjoying the spectacle he was making more and more by the minute. The McGovern clan watched as though they were being treated to a particularly comical stage performance.
“And I told him he was wasting his time and that you would never consent to matrimony,” Trent added.
Hattie turned to her brother with a look as indignant as the one she’d pierced Adrian with. “That’s what you think of me? That I would turn down a perfectly good offer of marriage?”
“So you’re accepting my suit, then?” Adrian asked, hope welling within him.
“Of course not,” Hattie snapped. “But I should be the one to tell you that, not my brother.”
Adrian couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He loved Hattie so much it was unreasonable. He would do whatever it took to win her. “Fine, then,” he said, pulling himself to his full, imperious height and staring down his nose at her. “I’m giving you one last chance, in front of your cousins, to spare both of us the embarrassment that is to come.”
Hattie pursed her lips and arched one eyebrow at him.
“Lady Hattie McGovern,” Adrian went on. “Will you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage.”
Hattie opened her mouth to reply, but Adrian held up a hand to stop her.
“I don’t want you to answer me in words,” he said. “Instead, answer me with actions.”
She cocked her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean this.” He twisted to glance at the children—who had gathered around and were whispering to each other in Italian, likely wondering what the crazy Englishman was saying. “I challenge you to a hoop race.”
“A hoop race?” Hattie blinked. “How is that an answer to a proposal of marriage?”
“Whoever wins earns the right to decide whether we will marry or not,” Adrian answered.
Hattie’s eyes narrowed further. “So if I win, the choice is up to me?”
“Correct.” Adrian nodded. “And I will not dispute whatever choice you make. But if I win, my prize is the right to choose without you naysaying me. And I warn you right now, I will choose for us to be married.”
Hattie chewed her lip in silence. Adrian could practically see the gears turning in her head. He held his breath, hoping beyond hope that his gamble would pay off. Underneath it all, he knew, with every fiber of his being, that the two of them belonged together, and that Hattie knew it too. She might not accept his proposal outright, but he was giving her a chance to accept and save face at the same time.
“All right,” she said at last, her pondering look turning into a mischievous grin. “I accept your terms. We race, and whoever wins decides the marriage question.”
Her cousins burst into applause and began rushing about.
“We can make the starting line here,” Lady Briarwood said, dragging her heel across the dirt of the path to create a line.
“That can be the finish line as well,” Lady Evangeline added.
“What course do you propose the race take?” Trent asked, shaking his head as he strode forward to join the madness.
“These paths crisscross the entire estate and surrounding area,” Lady Briarwood said. “You could race to that gazebo in Villa Angelina’s garden and back.”
“It doesn’t seem quite fair,” Thomas McGovern said, striding up to join the rest of them. “Surely, Lord Whitemarsh can run ten times faster than our Hattie.”
“I beg your pardon.” Hattie clapped a hand to her chest in offense.
“It won’t strictly be a running race,” Adrian said. He jogged to the group of children and asked to borrow their hoops and sticks in stilted Italian. The children were more than happy to hand them over. Adrian returned with the toys, handing a hoop and stick to Hattie. “This ought to level the odds a bit.”
Hattie’s gorgeous mouth twitched into a grin as she set her hoop on the ground and rested her stick on top. “So we roll these hoops along the path to the gazebo, navigating every obstacle we find along the way, then roll them back here. And whoever crosses that line first determines whether or not we marry?”
“Exactly,” Adrian said, meeting her saucy grin with one of his own. “And the loser will abide—”
Before he could finish, Hattie struck the top of her hoop with her stick and leapt forward, beginning the race without him.
“You little minx,” he called after her as her cousins leapt to the sides, parting and making a way for her. He positioned his hoop and charged after her, laughing as he went.
It was more of a challenge to keep a hoop rolling along a dirt path than Adrian would have thought. Especially with a cheering, laughing group of McGovern cousins and a gaggle of children following just a few steps behind. Hattie didn’t seem to be having as much of a problem as he was as she tore along the path, tapping her hoop to keep it in motion like an expert. Adrian did everything he could to keep up with her, including pushing his hoop along with his hand when he couldn’t quite get it to do what he wanted with the stick.
“Unfair,” Hattie cried out amidst a peel of laughter as he overtook her. “You’re cheating.”
“And you aren’t?” he asked, sending her a quick glance over his shoulder.
“I’m merely taking advantage of the opportunities,” she said, doubling her efforts and pulling up beside him.
There wasn’t enough space on the path for them to run side by side. Adrian veered slightly to the right, taking up as much space as he could so that she couldn’t pass him. Judging by Hattie’s frustrated growl right behind him, she knew exactly what he was doing.
“You beast,” she huffed, though it sounded more like a laugh to him. “If this is how you conduct yourself in a simple race, it’s no wonder I have no desire to marry you.”
“No desire?” he said, his hoop wobbling a bit as he gave more of his attention to their banter than the race. “That’s not the impression I had when your ankles were up around your ears yesterday.”
Hattie let out an indignant shriek and abandoned her rolling hoop for a moment, rushing forward and lifting her skirts in order to kick his hoop. The flimsy thing went sailing through the air and off the path entirely. Adrian let out an amused cry of protest and left the path to chase his hoop. Behind him, Hattie retrieved her own hoop—which had rolled to a stop and fallen over—and continued the race with a triumphant shout.
Adrian couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much. He retrieved his hoop and dashed ahead to the path, only setting his hoop down and knocking it with the stick again when he was a few yards behind Hattie. The rest of the McGoverns had fallen behind, either returning to the starting line or hurrying across the grass to the gazebo.
“You won’t get away with trickery like that for long,” he called to her, catching up.
“We shall see,” Hattie called back to him.
“Yes, we shall.”
Adrian was close enough to reach for the back of her skirt. He caught a handful of soft fabric and tugged. There was a short rip, Hattie yelped, and her hoop spilled to one side. As she jumped off the path to retrieve it, Adrian surged forward, taking the lead once more.
“You are a rotten scoundrel, Adrian Fairfax,” she shouted as she got her hoop rolling once more. “Cheaters never prosp—”
Before she finis
hed, Adrian stopped suddenly, turning to her, and whisking her into his arms. Both of their hoops rolled on as he brought his mouth crashing over hers for a kiss that was designed to leave her senseless. The trouble was, it had his head spinning as well. They fit together so well. She tasted of heaven and happiness. The sound of need she made as their tongues mated was enough to stiffen his cock and make him wish the rest of the world would disappear.
He was well on his way to deciding to abandon the race altogether and to find a secluded spot of grass to have his way with her when Hattie’s heel came down hard on his foot. He let out a cry of pain and danced away from her.
“Two can play at that game,” she panted as he winced in pain, then rushed ahead to pick up her hoop and carry on.
“Wicked woman,” Adrian growled, pulsing with affection. He hurried to get his hoop and continue the race, well aware that Hattie had gained another advantage. His rebellious cock made it that much harder for him to run effectively.
By the time they reached the gazebo, a small crowd of McGovern cousins was waiting to cheer them on.
“Go, Hattie!” Miss Heather McGovern shouted while her sister, Miss Sage clapped from where she sat on the gazebo’s bench with her broken ankle propped up. “You can beat him!”
“Huzzah for Lord Whitemarsh,” Lord Thomas called out, laughing when Miss Heather and Miss Sage shot him dirty looks.
Adrian appreciated the vote of confidence from Lord Thomas, but he was more interested in getting around the gazebo and continuing on the second leg of the race. Especially since Hattie had gotten the jump on him once more.
“You can’t fool me,” he called out to her as they rushed away from the gazebo and toward an olive grove that stretched across the hillside they needed to round in order to get back to the finish line. “You want me to win because, in your heart of hearts, you want to marry me.”
“I never said I didn’t want to,” she called back to him with a mischievous grin, “only that I won’t.”
“You are the most vexing creature I’ve ever come across,” Adrian laughed.
He hit his hoop harder as they dashed into the midst of the olive trees. There was more debris on the path through the orchard, which forced them both to slow down and concentrate. Adrian contemplated the idea of abandoning the race to sweep Hattie into his arms again for another kiss. She certainly did look good enough to devour, pink from exertion and smiling as she was.
No sooner did he have those thoughts when Hattie stopped with a gasp. Adrian nearly barreled into her before stopping as well to see what had startled her. There, several yards ahead of them, holding an antique spyglass to her eye and staring out across the grove, was the dark lady.
“Hey!” Adrian shouted. “You there!”
Hattie hissed at him, grabbing his arm and slapping a hand over his mouth. She still held her stick in that hand, and the impact against his mouth stung. A second later, he tasted blood.
“Sorry,” Hattie squeaked.
The dark lady jerked the spyglass away from her eye and snapped to face them. Her expression widened to surprise for a moment before she collapsed the spyglass, picked up her black skirts, and ran.
“You there!” Adrian called. “Stop!”
Hattie, on the other hand, raced for her hoop, picking it up and setting it on the path once more.
“You cannot be serious,” Adrian shouted at her. “The dark lady is getting away, and you take that as an opportunity to continue with this ridiculousness?”
“The dark lady has already gotten away,” Hattie called back to him with all seriousness. “She’s gotten away twice before. But we’ve seen her face clearly this time. If we make it back to the others, we can alert them and they can send a whole party to search for her.”
Adrian clenched his jaw, then rubbed a hand over his face in irritation. His hand came away with a tiny bit of blood on it from his split lip. Hattie was right, though. They would have more luck racing to tell the others than chasing the unknown woman through an olive grove.
“Fine,” he said, running to retrieve his hoop. “But I see no reason to continue our race.”
“Why?” Hattie asked, picking up her hoop with one hand and her skirts with the other, a flash of mischief in her eyes in spite of everything. “Do you think you will lose?”
“Of course not,” Adrian answered with a grin of challenge.
Hattie leapt forward, running surprisingly fast for a woman in long skirts, carrying a hoop. Adrian could have outpaced her easily, but he found that he would much rather run just a few paces behind her, where he could watch her lithe form as she exerted herself. She didn’t have enough hands to hold her hat in place, and as soon as a breeze blew up, her hat flew off her head, dragging several strands of her silky hair loose from its style as it went. From there, the rest of her style came undone, and by the time they reached the end of the olive grove, her hair spilled in messy waves across her shoulders and back. The sight was almost enough to make him forget about the dark lady entirely.
It was a whole different sight that brought both him and Hattie up short as they dashed past the last few trees and around the gentle hill, though. There, prone in the grass, were none other than Miss Sewett and Gianni. Somehow, his friend had managed to get the battle axe of a woman on her back. She clung to him as he kissed her as passionately as any classical lover.
“Oh, good God,” Hattie yelped, reeling back and knocking hard into Adrian. “My eyes are burning.”
Adrian laughed and clasped an arm around her to keep both of them from tumbling over. He had to admit, the sight of Gianni in that sort of embrace with Miss Sewett was one he would never be able to scrub from his eyes.
The unlikely pair noticed them a heartbeat later, and Miss Sewett screamed. Her scream came just as another pack of McGovern cousins, led by Lady Briarwood and Trent, came tearing up from the path.
“Oh, dear heavens!” Lady Briarwood exclaimed. “What in the name of all that is good and holy is going on here?”
Chapter 10
“Unhand me at once,” Miss Sewett shouted, though she wasn’t entirely convincing. She struggled out of Mr. Rossi’s arms, pushing herself to a sitting position, then standing clumsily. She would have fallen over if Mr. Rossi hadn’t leapt to his feet and clasped his arms around her, holding her up.
“We have been discovered, mia bella,” he said, grinning at Miss Sewett as though they’d been the very best of friends all along.
“Nothing has been discovered,” Miss Sewett insisted while twisting and turning in the man’s arms and doing her best to appear as proper and priggish as always. “I…I merely fell over and you…you came along to help me up. Yes, that was what happened.”
Hattie didn’t believe the story for a second. At the same time, she could only gape at Mr. Rossi and Miss Sewett. The sight of the two of them kissing in the grass had brought her mind to a screeching stop. She knew there were more important things she should have been worried about in that moment, but it was as though her brain had fallen into a bucket of paste and couldn’t form a thought.
“Now, now, Miss Sewett,” Roselyn said, beaming as though she’d been treated to Christmas pudding. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a little dalliance while on holiday.”
“I was not—” Miss Sewett sputtered. “I would never—” She made a frustrated sound and wrenched herself out of Mr. Rossi’s grasp at last. “How could you even think I would be amenable to such bad behavior?” she demanded, turning on him with a furious scowl.
“But, mia bella, you were the one who pursued me,” Mr. Rossi said, his smile as wide as the horizon. “How could I resist the advances of a woman as formidable as yourself?”
“You chased after Mr. Rossi?” Evangeline asked, her cheeks pink with amusement, just like the rest of the audience of McGovern cousins who had descended onto the scene.
“I did not,” Miss Sewett insisted, growing redder and more agitated by the moment. “I would never do such a thing.
And with a man like Mr. Rossi?” She betrayed her true feelings when the glance she threw at Mr. Rossi—one that was likely intended to be scolding and harsh—turned maudlin and moony.
“There’s no harm in falling in love,” Trent said, enjoying the spectacle as much as any of the female cousins. “I wouldn’t mind doing it myself.”
“There, there, Trent.” Roselyn stepped over to Trent’s side, patting his arm. “Your time will come. If Miss Sewett can find a lover, so can you.”
“Mr. Rossi is not—” Miss Sewett balled her hands into fists and huffed. “I refuse to be the subject of these insinuations for another moment. You are all wicked, ungrateful reprobates.” She sent a final, scathing look to the McGovern cousins before turning to Mr. Rossi with narrowed eyes. “I am through with you, sir,” she said. With that, she tilted up her chin, gathered what remaining dignity she had, and marched back through the olive grove on a path that would take her to the house.
“Mia bella,” Mr. Rossi called after her, taking a few steps as if to follow.
“You’d better not,” Trent said, catching the man’s arm. “I’ve seen her in this sort of mood before. She needs to cool off before you’ll have a chance of speaking with her.”
“He’s your friend,” Hattie said to Adrian. “You should—”
When she turned to face Adrian, she was surprised to find that he wasn’t there. Her mouth dropped open, and she glanced around, wondering where he had gone or which cousin he was hiding behind. But the more she looked, the more she realized he had disappeared entirely. So had his hoop.
“Blast,” she hissed, grabbing her own hoop and dashing back to the path. The wily devil had taken advantage of the distraction to continue with the race.
She didn’t bother rolling her hoop the way she was supposed to. She doubted Adrian had obeyed the rules on that score. She picked up her hoop and her skirts and ran down the path as fast as her fashionable shoes would carry her.
By the time she rounded the bend and came within sight of the finish line, it was too late. Adrian already stood with his arms crossed, a cocky grin on his face, just on the other side of the line. At the first sight of him, Hattie hissed a string of oaths that were much stronger than a simple “Blast.”