Page 6 of A Lady’s Dangerous Secret (Scandalous Secrets #1)

CHAPTER FIVE

J ames was exhausted.

He squinted against the rare April sunlight that filtered through the clouds on this brisk morning. His body was stiff on his brown gelding as the horse trotted through Hyde Park, not a soul in sight, given the early hour.

The previous night’s events ran through his mind.

After dancing with Lady Charlotte, his restlessness had increased from her asking him what many would think were simple questions.

The ones regarding his father and the Royal Navy felt too personal, though, and had pushed him past what he could tolerate.

Consequently, he took his leave and said a quick goodbye to Gabe before disappearing.

Although Gabe did not know James’s whole past, he knew enough. Gabe had his own demons and understood.

After leaving the ball, James made his way toward the gaming hells in St. James, given their proximity to Mayfair.

He thought a distraction, any distraction, would help the restlessness he felt.

When he reached the dens of iniquity, thinking he was ready to mindlessly spin a roulette wheel, he could not bring himself to go inside.

Being surrounded by smoke and men bent on losing their fortunes was no consolation.

Next, he wandered to La Nuit Noire. He entered the high-end brothel, hoping that some quality quim would relieve his needs.

Yet, when the scantily clad ladies sauntered toward him with their bodices cut so low the tops of their nipples were visible, he only felt revolted.

He desperately wanted to relieve the aching in his cock, courtesy of the infuriating Lady Charlotte, but going through the motions of anonymous sex was not going to relieve his perturbation.

He always had a restlessness inside him that worsened when he felt cornered.

Years of childhood abuse had done that, and Lady Charlotte’s questioning had triggered the same cornered feeling even further.

He had thought the Royal Navy would help quell his uneasiness, but it had not.

After years of trying, he still did not know a way to make the restlessness disappear.

He drew his hand from the reins and rubbed his temple.

He had made it back to Gabe’s town house last night and into his bed, but his head was throbbing from lack of sleep.

Despite the discomfort, James could not drop his military training, and constantly surveyed his surroundings.

In the distance, he saw a shadow dart into the woods, which he figured was a deer relishing the lack of humans in the park.

Then he heard it.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His eyes scanned the parkland in front of him before sweeping to the peripheries.

Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw movement.

James jerked his gaze to the left, and spotted a man on a gray horse emerge from the trees.

The man gave his steed its head as it galloped in the distance, the man bent over his mount, his top hat somehow still in place.

James stopped his own horse to watch the spectacle before him.

Whoever the man was, he could ride and appeared to have an innate comfort in the saddle, unlike James, whose body was always tense when he rode.

He looked around to see if someone was in pursuit of the rider, given the speed at which he was galloping, but no one else appeared.

Perhaps the man had to exercise his horse and sneaked in at an early hour to get in a good ride.

Galloping would not be allowed later in the day, when the ton congregated on Rotten Row to parade themselves about like peacocks in full plumage.

Yet another useless pursuit of High Society.

His musings were interrupted when the man stopped abruptly. Up until this point, the rider had galloped perpendicular to him so that he could only see his side profile. Now, he had an opportunity to get closer.

James clicked his tongue and urged his gelding into a trot.

The gray horse in the distance snorted and shook its head, settling down from the morning’s exertions.

Once he closed the distance and was almost upon the rider, he realized the gentleman was so small his clothes were hanging off him.

Before James could contemplate the peculiarity of his dress further, the man turned his horse toward him.

Cornflower-blue eyes stared back at him.

He gaped at the rider before he stammered, “Lady Charlotte?”

A flush crept up her neck and traveled above her surprisingly well-tied cravat.

James looked at the figure before him in a new light.

Yes, the clothes were loose, but even so, certain features were more pronounced than when Lady Charlotte was in a long, flowing gown.

She wore a waistcoat on top of a loose, men’s lawn shirt that was tucked into her breeches.

Her outfit revealed a thin waist that widened into full hips, which filled out the top of her pants as she sat astride.

His eyes grazed over the space between her legs.

A throat clearing broke his ogling, and Lady Charlotte lifted her chin in a defiant manner. “Good morning, Captain Silverstone,” she greeted curtly.

Ah, she still did not know his name. He could continue to use this information as leverage. “I see you have been enjoying some morning activity.”

“Yes, I prefer to ride early so that Mirabel can get proper exercise. She’s used to being in the country.”

“And that requires gentlemen’s clothes?”

Her head tilted forward slightly. She seemed to look down her nose at him while she sat regally on her horse, as if she were in a Mayfair drawing room.

“In fact, it is necessary.” She released the reins with one hand and flipped her wrist nonchalantly.

“The way to properly ride a horse is astride, and I can’t be seen straddling my steed in London. ”

James let out a choking sound. She must be an innocent to say such a phrase in a casual manner, proving she was truly oblivious to its meaning. He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle.

“You left last night before we could finish our game,” she chided.

He felt like a guilty school child, or at least what he assumed one would feel like, and succinctly replied, “I apologize for the abrupt departure, but I had to leave.” James was a naval officer.

He never apologized. He killed and moved on.

Yet there he was, apologizing, of all things, for leaving a fancy party.

“Why?”

Just that simple three letter word, and she had his complete attention.

Her eyes stared into his own as she awaited an answer.

He had just met this woman, and he would not—no, he could not answer.

He had been hiding from himself too long to suddenly change course. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Maybe it should be.”

“No. I appreciate your concern, but trust me, it’s better to leave it alone,” James responded more forcefully than he had intended.

Lady Charlotte raised her eyebrows. She studied him as if he were a puzzle to solve. “Very well then. In any case, you owe me the answers to a few questions.”

“That was last night’s game. You can’t carry it over to a new day.”

“I beg to differ. We didn’t discuss this particular rule, so it’s assumed that the game will continue until it’s completed,” she countered.

“Since it was not discussed, the game was interrupted and is now void.”

“You make a good point, but you agreed to answer seven questions. If you don’t answer the remaining ones, you will be going back on your word.”

So Lady Charlotte was trying to badger him into revealing more about himself. He had to admit he enjoyed the banter.

“I would hate to question your honor, sir. I am benevolent though, so I’ll propose a new wager.”

He felt like a mouse being batted back and forth between the paws of a mischievous cat. “Benevolent? You must be addled.”

“Addled? Is that what you call women with a brain? If so, I suppose I am.”

James bit back a caustic retort. She did have a point, but he was loath to admit it. “What is your alternate wager?”

“Well, we are both on horses, so we could race.”

James took in her measure. She sat comfortably on her horse, as if it were an extension of her body, and rode elegantly.

He pursed his lips. He, Captain Hughes of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, refused to keep being outmaneuvered by a slip of a young woman who wore men’s breeches and rode astride in the middle of Hyde Park.

Damn her for getting under his skin, and damn her for noticing his poor horsemanship.

“You are skilled in manipulating a situation, Lady Charlotte. ”

“ Captain Silverstone , a situation is what you make of it. You can let the situation control you, or you can control the situation. I prefer the latter, and I’m simply moving our situation in a desired direction.

If I didn’t, we would be here all day arguing.

I’ll even propose a compromise, since you seem upset.

I’ll tell you why I know how to manipulate a situation, as you call it, if you answer my question. ”

James assessed the absurdity of this entire encounter with the brazen and witty Lady Charlotte. As much as he hated to admit it, he did want to know something, anything, about this enigmatic woman of the ton .

“All right, I accept your deal. You go first.”

“I don’t know if I trust your word. You clearly didn’t keep it last night. How do I know once I share something about myself that you will honor your commitment?”

“We played a ballroom game last night, a mere frippery. Men die if I do not keep my word. Do not question my honor.”