It was the please that made her stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn to face him. She took in deep gulps of air, willing her pulse to steady and her anger to subside. When he was close enough for her to hear the sound of his footsteps sweeping through the tall grass, she turned her head.
He was striding toward her, his blond hair tousled by the breeze and his black greatcoat billowing out behind him. As usual, he’d dispensed with his cravat and his shirt lay open at his throat, revealing the muscles of his neck and a dusting of darker hair at the base of his throat. He marched toward her with such determination it made her take a step back in retreat.
“I thought you’d decided against my scheme,” Bella called when he was close enough she didn’t need to shout.
“I think we should settle this the way we used to.” Barely slowing his stride, he reached down and plucked one of the wild daisies dancing among the field grass. “I have a decider at the ready, as you see.”
What she could see was how his embroidered dove gray waistcoat hugged his broad chest so tightly the fabric strained against the buttons’ hold.
She tried not to stare at his chest, but it was nearly impossible to meet his gaze. Her emotions tipped and tumbled inside her. Perhaps he’d changed his mind. A sweet ribbon of relief started at her throat and ran all the way down to her toes.
But she was afraid to trust any of it. “You’ll tell my parents we wish to marry?”
“We’ll soon find out,” he said as he stopped an arm’s length away from her. He was breathing hard. The chill in the air had brought blood to his cheeks, a glint to his eyes. Sunlight lit them with a vibrant glow. “You first,” he told her, lifting the daisy between them.
“We’re not children anymore.” And she couldn’t risk her future and her parents’ choices on the whimsy of a flower.
“All right, I’ll go first.” He plucked one petal.
Bella sighed and yanked another free.
He smiled as if she’d just offered him a compliment and pulled a second time. She did too. They continued on until only a single petal remained. One for her to pluck.
When she hesitated, his gaze grew serious. “Looks as if I’ll be telling your parents I wish to marry you.”
His agreement was precisely what she wanted to hear. Yet for the first time in all this scheming a warning bell sounded in her mind.
Perhaps she wanted this too much.
“That look of worry tells me you understand the pitfalls of this arrangement.”
“Pitfalls?” Bella swallowed hard. She very much doubted he understood what she was thinking.
“We must make others believe we’re sincere and yet we ourselves must not become . . .” He looked at her as if he expected her to finish the sentence for him, as they’d often done in the past. When she didn’t, he added, “Entangled.”
“Entangled?”
He chuckled. “The first rule is that you mustn’t simply repeat every final word I say as a question.”
Bella crossed her arms. “And the second rule?”
“We probably shouldn’t do this in front of others.” He waved a hand between them. “Bickering.”
“We’re discussing.” In tight irritated tones, she had to admit. “Not arguing.”
“Let’s do it in private from now on. Nothing travels faster than gossip, and we wish those observing to believe we are enamored and in accord.”
“Is there a third rule?”
He looked at her so long she wondered if he’d forgotten the question, then finally said, “You shouldn’t defend me.”
“Will there be a need?” Had the man been called out by some angry husband in London?
“Bella,” he said slowly, carefully, “I haven’t been a good man of late, and when the talkative ladies of London society hear that I’m to wed a very upright young lady . . . There will be talk. You will likely learn more about me than you ever wished to.” He swallowed as if there were something bitter on his tongue. “I don’t want you to become caught up in that when we’re among London society. So let them say what they will and never mind any of it.”
“You needn’t worry about me.”
“If you’re my fiancée, that will be my job.”
Bella rolled her eyes. Twenty minutes ago the man couldn’t fathom assisting her and now he was taking all of it far too seriously. “I won’t be your fiancée in truth.”
“Others must believe that you are and your connection with me, as you know from Lord Hammersley, may cause you trouble. Do you have any rules?”
As Bella stared at him, her gaze fell to his lips. Always. They were beautifully shaped, full and forever flickering into a grin or a smirk. She had a good excuse to look at them when he spoke but she found herself looking when she shouldn’t.
“No kissing,” she blurted.
He arched a brow. “Very well. No kissing, it is. Anything else?”
“No promises either of us cannot keep.”
Both of his brows winged high at that.
“We will be clear with each other,” he said in a low earnest tone. “Honest, in all matters.” He stepped close enough for his greatcoat to rustle against her skirt. He shocked her by reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, then letting his fingers linger there, a warm soft weight against her skin. “I won’t fail you this time.”
Goodness how were they going to do this if he could unsettle her with the brush of his fingers?
“Touching,” Bella breathed. “We should only touch when necessary.”
Rhys dropped his hand as if she’d scorched him. “Of course. Forgive me.”
“Can you call tomorrow and speak to my parents?”
“Bloody hell, that’s quick.”
“There’s no reason to delay now that we’ve decided. The sooner we tell them and set everything in motion, the sooner we can end the subterfuge.”
“Tomorrow, then. I’ll call in the afternoon.”
“The morning? Father is in his office by ten.”
“I’ll arrive at quarter past.”
Bella nodded and assumed he would offer her a leave-taking, but he didn’t. He wore his usual air of confidence like a cloak atop his greatcoat, but there was a strange hesitation in the way he darted his gaze from her face out toward the open fields and back again.
“What is it?” she asked. They’d just agreed on honesty. Best to start immediately.
“Should I not acquire a ring? Are there any words we should exchange?”
“A ring isn’t strictly necessary—”
“But it would be useful. Our subterfuge will be based on appearances. Those who see us together in society must get the impression that we are truly engaged.”
“I appreciate that you wish to do this properly.” Bella wasn’t certain what propriety looked like when it came to false engagements. “But my parents come first, and I don’t wish to delay for a ring.”
“I understand.” He nodded, almost solemnly. It was odd to see him somber. Seriousness didn’t suit him.
Bella stepped away, eager to get back to Hillcrest. Eager for their plan to begin. “I’ll see you in the morning?”