Free Our Wicked Mistake by Emma Wildes

than Mar cus Aurelius.
    Now it was a bit less innocent.
    Silver eyes with a hint of disdain regarded him from under the rim of a parasol that exactly matched her moss green gown, and the richness of her hair was even more vivid in the sunshine. For whatever reason, both Elizabeth and her companion were blushing, and as they’d just spotted him, it must have to do with the conversation they had been absorbed in before he stepped into their path. He said, as pleasantly as pos sible, “May I say you are both extraordinarily lovely this afternoon?”
    “And you are very gallant, Mr. Hawthorne.” Amelia St. James was undeniably one of society’s loveliest jewels, and her recent marriage to the Duke of Berkeley’s in famous youngest son was still referred to in scandalized whispers. Personally, Miles didn’t blame St. James in the least for her seduction and the elopement, whatever the order of occurrence. The young lady was breathtaking.
    Elizabeth made a small, derisive noise over the allu sion to his possible gallantry, which he ignored.
    “Mind if I join you?”
    “If I said yes, I do mind, would it stop you?” Eliza beth asked, her tone lofty, but there was a hint of a smile in her eyes.
    At least she is glad to see me. It is something, if I can’t have anything else. Always we are aware of each other . Will she ever realize it?
    “Stop me? Probably not,” he responded with an ir reverent grin.
    “That is exactly what I thought, so I suppose we have little choice. Do we?”
    Lady Amelia looked amused at the byplay. “I, for one, am delighted at your arrival, Mr. Hawthorne, because I think I see my husband coming this way. He is develop ing a tendency to hover, which I assume will pass as soon as he adjusts to the situation. In the meantime, however, I think my walk is being cut short. At least Elizabeth can continue.”
    Sure enough, Alex St. James was walking toward them with long strides. “Lady Elizabeth, good after noon. Hawthorne.” Bareheaded, his dark hair and eyes a contrast to his wife’s delicate fairness, he took Lady Amelia’s hand, touched it to his mouth, and announced, “I’ve decided we’re going to Berkeley Hall. The country air will be pleasant.”
    “Now?” The lady looked bemused.
    “Your maid is packing for you.” He smiled in apology at Miles and Elizabeth. “I’m afraid I am going to steal her away from you. Will you excuse us?”
    They watched as he steered Lady Amelia immedi ately toward a waiting curricle.
    Mystified, Miles turned to Elizabeth. “What situa tion?”
    “Oh, please, Miles, think about it for a minute.” His cousin didn’t take his proffered arm, but she did fall into step next to him. “Why would he want to whisk her off for some fresh country air?”
    He dropped the arm with an inner resignation and frowned. “She’s newly married, of course.”
    “Precisely.” Elizabeth looked at him, the corner of her mouth lifting.
    He was a man, after all, and the first topic on his mind was not the specific results of the act of procreation, though the process of it did consume a lot of his attention. He caught on quickly enough, more from her high color than anything else. “Oh, I see. Good for St. James.”
    “ That is your reaction?” She made what could only be described as a snort of disgust. “I cannot see why he gets the credit for the conception.”
    “I certainly hope the credit goes to him, as she is his wife.”
    “You are deliberately missing my point.”
    “If it is on the end of your barbed tongue, I’ve been cut by it often enough, thank you.”
    “Miles.” She blew out a breath in a huff of outrage, but it was also a half laugh.
    Was it perverse of him to love the way she said his name, especially when he’d needled her into that certain tone? Elizabeth was delectable when angry. Actually, to his frustrated misfortune, she was delectable all the time.
    He elevated his brows. “I doubt we should be discussing this indelicate