Free Moonflower Madness by Margaret Pemberton

thundered.
    â€˜Does she have to?’ Lord Rendlesham asked pleasantly.
    Zachary Cartwright wheeled on him. ‘Of course she has to. You heard what I said to her a few minutes ago. Unless she’s returned, our personal reputations will be ruined both here and in England. She can’t be a day over seventeen …’
    â€˜Eighteen,’ Gianetta corrected.
    â€˜â€¦ and she’s the Consul’s niece,’ Zachary continued, taking no notice of her interruption. ‘Can you imagine the hue and cry she’s left behind her?’
    â€˜As I am only the Consul’s niece and not his daughter, and as he’s always found me an inconvenience to take care of, he might not much mind that I’ve decided to live an independent life,’ Gianetta said practically.
    A smile quirked the corners of Lord Rendlesham’s well-shaped mouth. ‘I cannot imagine you being an inconvenience to anyone,’ he said gallantly. ‘You are obviously very tired. Don’t let Zac bully you any more. We can discuss your return to Chung King later. For the moment you need a rest and something to eat. We were just about to have some lemon chicken,’ and he took her gently by the arm and led her away from Zachary Cartwright and towards the fire.
    The Chinese, who had been staring wide-eyed at the altercation between the two European gentlemen and the English missy bizarrely garbed in Chinese dress, hurriedly resumed their culinary duties.
    â€˜Thank you very much, Lord Rendlesham,’ Gianetta said, her heart beginning to beat a little less furiously. ‘There really is no need for me to be returned to Chung King. If you would just let me explain …’
    â€˜You can’t keep calling me Lord Rendlesham, out here in the wilds of nowhere,’ he said, smiling down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling attractively. ‘My name is Charles.’
    She found herself smiling back at him. ‘If we are to be so informal, then you must use my Christian name also.’
    â€˜Gianetta is a very pretty name,’ he said, sitting her down in the canvas chair that Zachary Cartwright had been sitting in when she had ridden up to them. ‘Is it Italian?’
    She nodded. ‘Yes, my mother came from Florence, though when I was a child we lived further north. On the shores of Lake Garda.’
    â€˜And are your parents still there?’ he enquired, fetching another collapsible chair and setting it down alongside hers.
    â€˜No,’ she said, looking with interest at the plant-collecting box that lay on the ground at the side of her chair and the notebook, covered with strong, bold handwriting, that Zachary Cartwright had thrown down on her approach. Lord Rendlesham waited expectantly. ‘They’re both dead,’ she said briefly, and did not see the slight lift of Zachary Cartwright’s brows as he looked across at her, an indefinable expression in his near-black eyes.
    She rose to her feet suddenly. ‘I’m sorry, Lord Rendlesham … Charles. I can’t sit down and eat yet. Ben will be tired, too, and I haven’t seen to him yet.’
    â€˜Ben?’ He stood up with her, looking puzzled. ‘I thought you had ridden here alone?’
    â€˜My pony,’ she said with a tired smile. ‘I don’t know what his real name is, but I’ve christened him Ben and he’s quite, quite wonderful.’
    She walked out of the circle of firelight and across to where Ben was standing, still saddled and patient.
    â€˜There’s nice grass for you, and fresh water,’ she said, patting him lovingly. ‘And tonight we’ll both have some company. It won’t be as frightening as last night was.’
    â€˜I’ll take his saddle off for you,’ Zachary Cartwright’s deep, dark voice said from behind her. ‘Those miao-tse saddles are heavy.’
    She whipped her head round, hoping that he hadn’t overheard