He rushed out onto the ice in his boots, instantly slipping and landing sprawled out on his stomach across the ice. The ice burned his cheek, and he was certain he would have a bruise on his jaw from the way he landed.
“I came to assist you,” he mumbled, reluctantly pushing up to his knees.
“It appears as if you are the one who needs assisting, my lord.”
Just as suddenly, she was on her back staring up at the sky and mumbling under her breath. “Oh, drat.”
“Perhaps we both need help.”
“It’s unnatural for humans to be on ice. That is what the matter is.”
“I believe you are wearing skates, are you not?”
“Pfft, would you care to try them?”
Henry inched across the ice and stood above her with a small grin tugging at his lips. “Mrs. Craven is well asleep for the afternoon. Can you trust me enough to skate with me for a few minutes?”
“How are you certain?”
“Because I watched her insist on a second claret jug be produced at luncheon, then finish it while spewing the most ridiculous diatribe regarding the current wallflowers of London. She had many opinions. We have become meal companions, it seems.”
A beautiful smile teased at her lips. He had foolishly thought she was beautiful with her mask the first night they met, but now?
Well, he wasn’t certain how he had been knocked over by the most beautiful woman he had ever seen but sure enough, that was just his luck. And he had never considered himself lucky. Hard-working, yes? Confident, well he more often toed the line of arrogant. He didn’t care much for semantics right now.
Not when she reached up and grasped his gloved hand with hers, and he helped her to stand.
“My lord, I mean this in the most respectful way possible. Please leave me alone.”
He blinked hard. She was a puzzle.
“Have I offended you?”
“No, you have been kind and earnest. And I will admit, I am still recovering from the shock of discovering you here after searching for you in London. I knew it was you instantly, and I appreciate you not letting on.”
Something within his chest shifted. As if his heart was preparing to make room. Which was a problem. If only he could care at the moment, but he couldn’t look away.
“You searched for me?”
“I…” she glanced toward the sky and puffed out her cheeks in frustration. It was a cute quirk of hers that made her long graceful nose bunch. “I wished to inquire after your head. It was a nasty fall.”
“My head is fine, thank you.”
She clasped her hands in front of her and swung her skirts from left and right. She had done the same that night. “I am glad to hear it.”
“Will you tell me what you are so afraid of?”
“I am not afraid, my lord.”
“I wish you would stop calling me that.”
“I will not. I cannot afford to lend any appearance of familiarity with you when we never had a proper introduction. I will not invite a scandal into my life. I cannot be around you for fear…”
Henry shifted his feet, instantly regretting it as his boots slipped. He pulled what he feared was an unattractive face as he struggled to regain his center of balance. At least he didn’t fall again.
“I can assure you that my life is free of scandal. I only recently inherited an earldom and a crumbling estate. When we met that evening, I was simply Henry Davies.”
He liked that name best anyhow.
Henry Davies once had a rosier outlook on life, before his father died and he was sent to live with his strict uncle instead of being sent to sea as an apprentice to follow in his father’s footsteps. He had dreamed of doing so since being a young boy, so his disappointment was sharp when he was sent to London instead. His mother once confessed he was made for books and arguments, whereas his younger brother, Rafe, was to become a sailor. And after bravely fighting the French for years, Henry was actively discussing his brother’s possible promotion to captain with anyone who would spare him a few minutes.
“I can’t imagine being simply anyone any longer. I am Matilda Brennan to all of London.”
“That sounds exhausting, living up to the expectations of others constantly.”
With a soft, jaded laugh, she brushed back a piece of hair from her face. “As you likely know.”
How she knew, he didn’t know. But there was no denying it. Perhaps it was a universal experience to feel that crushing pressure to do as expected.
“What should I call you?”
She gazed down at the ice before darting a glance toward him. “Tilly will do when it’s you and me,” she said, before she pushed off and attempted another go around the pond. “And when we are with everyone else, I am Miss Brennan. But we should strive not to be alone.”
He stood in the middle of the pond beneath the milky cloudy day, clasping his hands in front of him. He was thankful for the wool gloves the footman lent him. He watched her wobble across the ice and flail her arms, and all the while, he had a grin on his face.
It was the strangest thing.
And might have been the longest he had ever caught himself smiling.
