“Right now?”

“I meant at home, but….” Ellie's words trailed off as she looked around her. She spied a long stick several yards away and scrambled to her feet. “This should do,” she said, picking it up and handing it to him. “Do you need assistance getting to your feet?”

He grinned wolfishly as he swayed toward her. “Any excuse to be in your arms, my dear Miss Lyndon.”

Ellie knew she should be affronted, but he was trying so hard to be charming, and devil take it, he was succeeding. Handily. She supposed that was why he was such a successful rake. She stepped around to his back and put her hands under his arms. “I warn you, I'm not very gentle.”

“Now why doesn't that surprise me?”

“On the count of three, then. Are you ready?”

“That depends, I suppose, on—”

“One, two…three!” With a grunt and a heave, Ellie pulled the earl to his feet. It wasn't an easy task. He outweighed her by a good four stone and was drunk, to boot. His knees buckled, and Ellie only just managed to keep herself from cursing as she planted her feet and braced them. Then he started to topple over in the other direction, and she had to scoot to his front to keep him from falling.

“Now that feels nice,” he murmured as his chest pressed up against hers.

“Lord Billington, I must insist that you use your cane.”

“On you?” He sounded intrigued by the notion.

“To walk!” she fairly yelled.

He flinched at the noise, then shook his head. “It's the oddest thing,” he murmured, “but I have the most appalling urge to kiss you.”

For once, Ellie was speechless.

He chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. “I think I just might do it.”

That was enough to spur her into motion, and she jumped to the side, sending him sprawling to the ground once again.

“Good God, woman!” he yelled. “What did you do that for?”

“You were going to kiss me.”

He rubbed his head, which had hit the tree trunk. “The prospect was that terrifying?”

Ellie blinked. “Not terrifying, exactly.”

“Please don't say repulsive,” he grumbled. “I really couldn't bear it.”

She exhaled and held out a conciliatory hand. “I'm terribly sorry for dropping you, my lord.”

“Once again, your face is a picture of sorrow.”

Ellie fought the urge to stamp her foot. “I meant it this time. Do you accept my apology?”

“It appears,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “that you might do me bodily harm if I do not.”

“Ungracious prig,” she muttered. “I am trying to apologize.”

“And I,” he said, “am trying to accept.”

He reached out and took her gloved hand. She pulled him to his feet again, stepping out of his reach once he had steadied himself on his makeshift cane.

“I will escort you to Bellfield,” Ellie said. “It isn't terribly far. Will you be able to get home from there?”

“I left my curricle at the Bee and Thistle,” he replied.