Free An Extraordinary Flirtation by Maggie MacKeever

nothing that would advance his suit. “I know you a little too well to stand on ceremony with you. Won’t you tell me what’s amiss?”
    Cara plucked an especially frothy dandelion. She understood that Paul was feeling outmaneuvered, which made him cross and out of charity with her. However, were she to reveal family problems, then Beau would be cross and out of sorts.
    Beau was already cross and out of sorts, and Cara felt in need of a confidante. “You’ve come a considerable distance to become embroiled in our difficulties. I warn you that you’d be better advised to return home.”
    Paul might have grasped her hands, were they not so grubby. He settled for a smile. “What fustian you are talking. You know I consider myself part of your family. What can I do to help?” He looked critically around him. “Perhaps arrange to have some bat guano brought to town?”
    Cara sighed. “If I had some bat guano with me, I’d put it in my niece’s bed. Zoe has been spoilt all her life, and expects admiration from all the world, which for the most part she receives, for she is truly lovely as well as impetuous, spontaneous and gay.” She gave the dandelion an absentminded puff, scattering it to the wind. “Now Zoe has taken a fancy to a gentleman of whom her father can’t approve. At least he couldn’t approve yesterday! I can’t help but wonder if any gentleman will prove worthy enough to satisfy Beau, not that it will make the slightest difference when my niece falls madly and passionately in love.”
    If only Cara would fall madly and passionately in love with him. Paul reached out and plucked a piece of vegetation from her hair, which led Cara to wonder if the squire felt freer in Beau’s wilderness of a garden than he did at Norwood House, and why; and if he would try and kiss her now, and if she wished him to.
    “So there it is!” she said brightly, and stepped away a little farther, lest the squire decide he felt freer than she liked. “My trouble is Zoe, and I don’t see how you can help with that.”
    Zoe sounded like a typical Loversall. Thank God Cara didn’t fit the mold. Surely it wouldn’t be difficult to find the chit a husband if she was the nonpareil that Cara claimed. And then Cara would return to the country where she belonged.
    Before he could comment, footsteps sounded on the gravel path, accompanied by a volley of wild barking, and female voices raised in argument. For all the privacy afforded her in this ruined jungle of a garden, Cara reflected, she might as well have been at the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew.
    Zoe tripped into view, looking especially enchanting in a muslin dress with full sleeves and a high neck and a hem of colored ribbon headed by a broad lace border, its low neck filled in with a blond fichu. She eyed Paul with frank interest. “Widdle said you were here with a gentleman, Aunt Cara. Now we know why you didn’t come shopping with us, you sly thing! Barrow picked out the nicest gown for you, not that I would wish to wear purple, but it should do quite nicely for a person of your age. We have come to act as your chaperones, because you know it isn’t proper for you to be out here alone.”
    Zoe knew how to make her presence felt. As well as how to make her aunt feel so ancient that it was miraculous she could get around without a cane. Cara performed introductions, reluctantly.
    “Charmed,” said Paul, insincerely. This young woman was no more charming than an ill-mannered pup. Interpreting his expression as one of admiration—after all, what else could it be?—Zoe went on to entertain him with a description of a dinner dress that was being made for her, with a worked muslin body, half-high, and a sarcenet skirt trimmed with patent net and ribbon disposed in draperies.
    How Paul must dislike this chatter, thought Cara. To have to listen to it served him right. Another time he would perhaps think twice before he burst uninvited in on her. And perhaps he wouldn’t,