Free Rhyme and Reason by Jo Ann Ferguson Page A

have guessed you find such gatherings boring,” she said.
    “I have little interest in the travesties of the Season, that is true. Riding in the Park is boring. Plying the dowagers and the young misses with court-promises suits me as a saddle suits a sow. Trying to avoid covetous mamas with marriageable daughters is tiresome. I would as lief retire to the card table.” He sat on the edge of the planter and smiled. “Do you play cards, Miss Talcott?”
    “I leave that to Papa.” She started to add more, but her eyes were captured by his that were even with hers for the first time. Hastily, she lowered her eyes. Her heart thumped against her chest as if she had raced from Hanover Square to Hyde Park.
    “That is much the pity.”
    His even voice irritated her, although she was being want-witted. He was not going to apologize for lying to her, so she should put an end to this conversation.
    “That is your opinion, my lord. Now I must ask you, again, to excuse me.” She folded her hands behind her back. “I must see to Miriam.”
    “Another of your duties. Which ideal man has your sister chosen to ensnare before the end of the Season?”
    “Really, my lord, you ask such inappropriate questions.”
    He laughed. “And you avoid answering every one. I doff my cap to you, Miss Talcott, and give you warning. You should not play cards, for your countenance betrays every sentimental sentiment within you.” He stood. “Mayhap you should try your hand at rewriting the marquis’s drivel. Surely you could do no worse.”
    “I leave poetry to the poets.”
    He held out his hand, and she was sure her heart had stopped. Her breath caught in her throat, but her thoughts were alive with anticipation of his broad fingers touching her once more. Knowing such fantasies were unseemly, she was unable to dampen them … She did not want to dampen them.
    She swallowed her gasp as Lord Wentworth reached past her and lifted the sagging branch of an azalea. “Lady Fanning could use your skill with her garden. This is hard to kill, but it appears she has managed that.”
    Emily blinked. She had been a cabbage-head to think he was intrigued with her. Closing her eyes, she sighed. She was lucky he intended to be a gentleman this evening, for her thoughts were constantly wandering off in a most unladylike direction.
    “Valeria tries very diligently to improve her garden,” she whispered. When he gave her an odd glance, she added in a more casual tone, “I have offered her what advice I can.”
    Shaking his head, he looked down into the garden where the plants showed as little life as the stone statues. “If you want my opinion, you should suggest that Lady Fanning leave the gardening to someone with your gentle touch.” He squatted and peered under the bush. “The soil here is too dry and tasteless for this plant.”
    Emily faltered, astonished anew by his obvious interest in plants. When he glanced at her, she hurried to say, “The plants get little light and rain here.”
    Standing, he wiped his hands to loosen any dirt. “Something we can agree upon. Mayhap there is hope for salvaging our nascent friendship.”
    “I expect my friends to be honest with me.”
    He smiled as he offered his arm. There was a challenge in his voice when he said, “As I shall be from now on.”

Chapter Six
    Emily tried to concentrate on the reading, but Lord Wentworth’s words intruded into her thoughts. She could not force them from her mind. Why was he intending to be a part of her life?
    Or was it Papa’s life he planned to play a part in? She wanted to warn him to stay far from her father, but that would be useless. As she had told Miriam, she had no say in Papa’s choice of companions.
    She found it impossible to listen to Valeria. Her friend was reading a sonnet Emily particularly disliked, especially when she thought of how many hours she had labored to make the words fit together. She winced as Valeria stumbled on a word. It was not