somehow manage to casually bump intoâ Oh! â
CHAPTER THREE
âO H , FOR THE love of...â Baron Cooper Townsend instinctively grabbed the young woman by the shoulders. Heâd been watching her, the way she was clinging to her companionâs arm as they proceeded along the flagway, the two of them chattering like magpies, definitely not looking where they were headed.
He believed the taller one to be the Countess of Cockermouth, although he couldnât be certain. Besides, it was the other young lady who somehow seemed to demand his attention, simply because she existed.
And then sheâd apparently tripped and all but propelled herself into his arms.
âMy, my, Coop, look what you found,â his friend Darby teased, never one to fail to see the amusement in most any situation. âOr is that look what found you? Iâve lost countâis that four? Two on the way down, and now two coming back? Alas, our English misses seem sadly lacking in imagination, as well as balance.â
Cooper ignored the man, concentrating on the small, upturned face and the pair of huge indigo eyes looking up into his. They had to be the most unusual and intriguing eyes heâd ever seen; they all but swallowed him up, leaving him shocked and nearly breathless.
This did not please Baron Townsend. Levelheaded Baron Townsend. Wasnât his world topsy-turvy enough, without adding unexpected attraction to his budget of woes?
Still, he watched, fascinated, as those eyes, like a mirror into her soul, told him her every thought, each rapidly transitioning emotion. Wide-eyed shock. Embarrassed innocence. Questioning. Recognition. Amusement, almost as if she was laughing at their situation, perhaps even at him. No, that couldnât be possible.
âI didnât mean that quite so literally, but how very convenient,â she said as if to herself, and her smile almost physically set him back on his heels. Damn, it had been amusement heâd seen, and it definitely was at his expense.
Wonderful. It wasnât enough that they chased him. Did this one have to find the pursuit so amusing?
âAre you all right, miss?â he asked tightly, still lightly holding her upper arms, because that seemed to be his required opening line in these tiring encounters. âPerhaps youâve twisted your ankle and require my assistance?â
âI seem to have tripped over an uneven brick. How careless of me, not to watch where Iâm stepping. No, I donât think Iâm injured,â she said, and her voice, rather low and husky for such a small thing, surprised and further intrigued him, much against his will. âNot precisely at any rate. But if youâd be so kind as to support me over to that bench?â
Those eyes, that voice, the unique color of the little bit of her hair he could see, the alabaster skin set against those eyes and a fetchingly curved pink mouth. So much danger in such a small package.
You said hello, Coop , he reminded himself. Now say goodbye.
âI donât think so. Why donât you hop?â he heard himself say, and let her go.
And damn if she didnât immediately being listing to one side, so that he was forced to swoop her up into his arms before she could collapse on the flagway.
âWhy didnât you tell me you hurt your ankle?â he demanded as he carried her over to the bench outside a millinerâs shop, her companion right behind him asking, âDany, are you all right?â
âI told you I wasnât injured, not precisely .I asked for your assistance, remember? I seem to have lost the heel to my shoe, see?â The beauty incongruously named Dany raised her right leg to display the damaged shoe (and give him a brief but delightful sight of her shapely ankle). She looked up at him, understanding rising in her eyes even as the sun rises at dawn. âYou didnât believe me. Are you often accosted in the street by
Major Dick Winters, Colonel Cole C. Kingseed