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Her brows knitted but she remained frozen until he slung his coat about her shoulders, and she flinched, and her eyes widened. It swallowed her and if it wasn’t for the way her lips pulled into a grim line of determination, he might be guilty of thinking she looked rather endearing in his coat.

“Perhaps this conversation need not happen at all, Lord Blackthorpe.”

“I only wish to make a proposal.”

A hand to the lapel of his coat, she lifted it off one shoulder, paused, then released it, letting it drape back over her body. He’d half anticipated her throwing it into the mud, but it seemed he could not anticipate a single thing about Lady Lilly Musgrave.

“Well, I have no desire to hear your proposal, Lord Blackthorpe.”

“A moment of your time is all I ask.” He moved closer until they were barely a pace away from each other. He affected his best smile and waited for the harshness to leave her expression.

It remained. Hardened more even. His smile grew genuine, and she lifted her gaze to the skies with a sigh.

“A minute. Nothing more.”

Before he could reply, she stuffed a hand under the coat and fished around before bringing out a gold pocket watch. August could only imagine where she had secreted it and his fingers twitched with the desire to feel the precious metal to see if it was warm from where it had touched her skin.

She flicked it open and nodded at him. “Go on then.”

Damn it. She really did mean he only had a minute. “As you know, Icarus was my uncle’s horse.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Lady Lilly’s gaze remained on the clock.

“And you were gifted him in my uncle’s will.”

“I am aware of that too.” Her tone insinuated utter boredom.

The slightest pang of panic struck him. He couldn’t recall anyone ever seeming bored by him, even when he had nothing of note to say. In fact, he’d begun to take a slight perverse pleasure in muttering silly statements to see who was listening to him. Nine times out of ten, it went entirely unnoticed, and men and women alike agreed wholeheartedly with whatever ridiculous phrase he had just pronounced.

“I should be grateful indeed if you would consider selling me the horse.”

“I—”

“I would pay more than he is worth—”

“How much more?”

“Ten per cent.”

She smirked. “He is one of the best racing horses in the country.”

“Very well, twenty per cent.”

Lilly snapped the pocket watch shut. “No,” she said simply. “And your time is up.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you not willing to negotiate?”

“I have no need of your money, Lord Blackthorpe, and your uncle willed me that horse because he knew I loved him greatly.”

“He’s a racehorse,” August spluttered. “What on earth are you even going to do with him? He cannot live a sedentary life like your palfrey here.”

“I am not ignorant, Lord Blackthorpe.” She lifted a boot to the stirrups of the saddle and swung herself with ease over her horse. It was only then he realized she didn’t even have a side saddle. Were it not for his coat covering most of her, he was certain he would see at the very least some bare thigh.

He wanted to see bare thigh.