"Aren't?"
"Progressing. In fact things seem exactly the same as before, well, I guess that isn't entirely true after last night's…" She clamped her mouth shut.
Benedict laughed heartily. "Your secret's safe with me, though I wonder why the blasted man needed to be so inebriated to do something he's been craving to do for days."
"I doubt that." Lady Anastasia looked down and stopped skating.
Benedict wanted to strangle his cousin. How dare he make this woman feel unwanted? It was safe to say that if it was him the girl would already be ruined.
Katherine was a shining example of the way Benedict handled women. But this was different, so he reached over and touched her face, careful to slow his movements enough to gain attention.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Lady Anastasia sputtered.
"Giving you progression, my lady, in the basest way I can."
"How?"
"Jealousy." And with that Benedict leaned down to whisper nonsense into her ear about laughing and managing a tiny blush.
The timing was perfect. Baldwyn's head snapped to attention, and Katherine's eyes narrowed. Benedict shook his head slightly and Katherine nodded. How was it that by that simple action, he knew Katherine trusted him? In that very moment?
He was about to skate to her, to steal her away from his Scottish cousin, when shouting commenced from the bench.
"I want to skate, and I'm going to skate!" Agatha wailed.
Merciful heavens above, was it too much to ask for God to have at least given her a quieter voice? Or perhaps the ability to practice patience?
"Crazy old woman," he muttered as he deposited Lady Anastasia on the bench and made his way toward his aunt, praying a cloak of invisibility would suddenly find a way to shield him from her pensive glare.
She yelled again, "Gentlemen!"
Benedict swallowed. She was referring to him and Baldwyn, like little boys being punished, they slowly skated to her side, each taking an arm.
"I wish to skate," she announced.
Benedict rolled his eyes at Baldwyn who looked ready to cut himself a tiny ice hole and jump into it. "Yes, I believe the entire pond has been made aware of your desire to skate, Aunt."
"Hmph." Her usual response.
"Don't argue with me, Benedict. Take my arm," she demanded. "Baldwyn! Look alive there, boy! I'm not growing any younger."
Clearly, thought Benedict.
"Take my arm and let's be off!" She waved wildly in the air as if they were planning on flying rather than skating, not that he would say it aloud lest she get ideas that they should figure out a way to catapult her into the icy air.
"If you'll just hang on to us, I'm sure we can take a turn about the pond, nice and slow now."
Baldwyn looked heavenward then back to Benedict as if to say, "Do you think we have a chance of leaving her in the middle and feigning memory loss?
"Faster," Agatha demanded.
"Aunt." Benedict cleared his throat. "If we go any faster, I believe you'll lose your breath and have one of those very real coughing fits."
Very real his a—
"I said I would desire for you to take me faster, now do as I say."
Or reap the consequences, Benedict added mentally.
"As you wish." He increased his speed, as did Baldwyn and soon the dragon was smiling.
"This is my favorite part."
"Pardon?" Benedict nearly tripped. Was she just being polite?
"The wind, I miss the wind on my face. Makes an old woman feel alive." Her pale eyes looked at Benedict and a smile curved her lips. For such an ancient thing, she was quite beautiful still. His heart clenched as she turned her face upward and sighed.
Inwardly scolding himself for being so rude, Benedict tightened his grip on her arm. If she trusted them enough to close her eyes, if she was so completely within their clutches, he was going to do a blasted good job of keeping her standing straight, even if it killed him.
After a few minutes, Agatha sighed. "Stop! I'm cold, take me back to the house at once!" Agatha paused, and released their arms. "Baldwyn, Lady Anastasia looks quite frozen over on the bench. Please see to her needs."
Benedict opened his mouth to speak, but Agatha interrupted, "And Benedict, do be sure that Lady Katherine is brought back to the house soon. She so desired to read this afternoon, and I would hate to see her too frozen to do so."
With that, Agatha, frail little Agatha skated off, at top speed, alone.
The little witch.
She knew exactly how to skate.
Why the devil did she…?
Separation. Benedict tossed his head back and laughed, torn between the desire to applaud her genius or strangle her for misinterpreting everything going on that afternoon, for she should know him well enough to know. His attraction was to Katherine, not Lady Anastasia.
He skated to Katherine and held out his hand. "Oh, no you don't," she teased. "Last time we skated, we both fell, and you were peeking beneath my skirts."
"It isn't peeking if the skirt flies up."
"Says who?" Her eyes widened with indignation.