“Would three o’ clock in the afternoon suit you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” They stared at each other a moment, not in awkward silence exactly, but with a sense of uncertainty. Until she suddenly said, “Let’s go fishing.”
“Fishing?” Where the devil had that idea come from? It sounded spontaneous and more or less exactly like yet another thing he probably ought to avoid. The list kept growing while he continued ignoring every item on it. At least when it came to this, he had a good reason to dissuade her. “Last I checked, fishing required a bit of equipment. We, however, don’t have any rods or bait or–”
“Not to worry. Everything we need can be rented right over there.”
Blast
“Would it make any difference to you if I told you I’d rather not?”
“No.” A devilish gleam appeared in her eyes. “In fact, I think that would only make me want to do it more. Especially since Lord Penwood did offer to take me until you ruined everything with your proposal.”
Accepting his fate - for now - Matthew puffed out a breath and followed Miss Townsbridge over to the shed where all the necessary paraphernalia could be found.
Once they’d gotten all their gear together, including two boxes of worms, they wandered over to the area where fishing was allowed.
“Have you ever done this before?” Matthew asked, scanning the water.
“A few times. My parents have a lovely house in the Lake District. My siblings and I spent our summers there as children.” Her gaze grew distant. Sentimental. “It was the ideal place for us to explore nature to our hearts’ content. We’d ride, fish, climb trees, and build forts. It is, in fact, where I first discovered my fondness for walking.”
“I see.”
She grinned. “How about you? Have you done much fishing before?”
“Honestly?” When she gave a small nod, he shook his head. “Not really. I don’t visit the countryside much, so I’ve not really had a chance until now. Didn’t even realize fishing was something one could do in London.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean, you don’t visit the countryside?”
Realizing he’d given away more about himself than he’d intended, he shrugged one shoulder to pretend indifference and focused on tossing the weighted hook at the end of his line into the water. “I’m not very partial to it.”
“Why not?”
“Does it matter?”
She frowned at that and eventually turned away, giving her attention to her own fishing line. “Not really.” He sighed in response until she followed the comment with, “Unless you’re still trying to get me to marry you, in which case your oddities do become more important.”
“Choosing to stay in London in a house I feel comfortable in is not an oddity. It’s a personal choice.”
“Hmm...” She looked at him with discriminating suspicion. “You bought that house yourself. Did you not?”
“Yes,” he said without even bothering to hide his increased agitation. This was why he hadn’t wanted to take a walk or go fishing. Because it invariably led to probing conversations from which there could be no escape.
“Why not live at Brunswick Manor instead?”
His grip on the fishing rod tightened. Easy does it. With long deep breaths he fought to keep the encroaching darkness at bay.
“Perhaps I don’t care for it any more than you care for being treated like a soon-to-be spinster who can’t get a man’s attention without her mother’s help.”
Miss Townsbridge tightened her jaw and averted her gaze while Matthew cursed himself for his despicable rudeness. “I’m sorry,” he said, wishing he could retract the words. “That was unkind.”
“The truth isn’t always pleasant, Lord Brunswick.” A wistful smile pulled at the edge of Miss Townsbridge’s mouth, and although he watched her in profile, there was no mistaking the clarity of her gaze as she looked out across the water. “I’ve always admired those who have the courage to speak it without any fear of repercussion.”
Matthew could not take his eyes off her. He’d thought her only mildly pleasing to the eye until now, but in this moment of reflective pensiveness, with golden sunlight spilling across her cheek, she looked divine.
“Nevertheless. I shouldn’t have said it.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t incorrect.”
“I disagree.” He waited for her to turn her gaze toward him before admitting, “I noticed you completely on my own. No one pointed you out and yet here I am, desperately trying to win your hand.”
Her smile broadened, transforming into a wide and beautiful grin. “Desperately?”
“You’ll see. Once I set my mind on something there’s really no swaying me.”
“I can be stubborn too, you know.”
“As proven by your reluctance to consider my offer.”
She let out a small sigh. “You’re not inviting me for a night out at the theatre, Your Grace. What you’re asking is for me to spend the rest of my life with you. Surely you can appreciate how impossible it is for me to even consider doing so without having some sense of what to expect.”
“You won’t want for anything.”
“I’m not convinced of that.” When he frowned she said, “Material things can’t feed the heart or the soul. I won’t accept a marriage devoid of friendship.”
“Hence the fishing?”
She pursed her lips. “If we can’t get along for a couple of hours, I don’t see how we’ll tolerate each other for several decades.”
He liked her reasoning, even though it didn’t mesh well with his plan to keep a distance. “And how would you say we’re getting along?”
“Better than I’d imagined. We’ve already had our first proper argument, and yet we’re still talking to each other. Plus, I’ve learned that you might not be as arrogant as I initially thought. If you were, you wouldn’t have cared if your comment upset me.” She gripped her rod in response to a tug on the line. “Goodness. Do you think you can help me with this?”
Setting down his own rod, Matthew leapt to her aid. Without thinking, he placed one hand over hers and held on tight while trying to reel in the taut line. The action brought him closer to her than ever before. His hip bumped hers and his arm settled firmly against her shoulder. Maintaining a gap between them while helping her keep the rod steady and reel in a fish was impossible. So he pretended their intertwined stance was perfectly normal and cast a quick glance about in case any onlookers disagreed.
“Look, look.” Miss Townsbridge bounced with excitement, her body jostling his. “Goodness gracious, Lord Brunswick. It’s huge!”
Gritting his teeth, Matthew put his back and upper arm strength into hauling the fish onto land. It was harder than he’d expected, wielding what had to be well over ten pounds of struggling weight hanging from the end of the line. The soles of his boots started slipping.
“How much do you want this monster?” he asked, bending his knees and leaning back further for added purchase.
“A lot,” she said as she leaned back as well, bringing her back against his chest, and her bottom...