“You consider this helpful? My reputation is being torn to shreds every second we are together.”

Gabriel chuckled. “You have a very dark outlook on the world, Lady Celia. Your reputation is in no more danger than it was two nights ago.”

Celia’s face heated in a rush of embarrassment. “Don’t you dare bring that up. What you did to me was unconscionable.”

He laughed again, bending forward until his mouth brushed her ear. “What I did, my lady?” Warm breath stirred the wisps of hair escaping her coiffure as the wind picked up. Celia stared stonily ahead as Gabriel continued in a voice smooth as melted honey. “I recall things a bit differently. If we are being honest, you used me for your own gain. Remember?”

Remember? How could she possibly forget? She’d thought of their encounter all through that night until dawn broke that next morning. She thought of it all during the following day while avoiding his presence. She’d thought of it during the visit to the village and the walk back to the manor. Blast it all, she couldn’t get it out of her treacherous mind, and now, Gabriel had the audacity to inquire if she remembered it.

Worst of all, he placed all blame for the incident at her feet.

“I refuse to continue this ridiculous conversation. Do not talk to me any further, Mister Rose. Just return me to Beaumont. Hopefully, you will then disappear from my life.”

Gabriel let out a heavy sigh threaded with amused exasperation. “Are you always this prickly, Lady Celia?”

“Only to scoundrels lacking good manners,” she replied primly.

“Ah, I see,” he said with a grin. “Am I to understand you’ve now included me on your extensive list of suitors?”

Celia truly could not help herself in that moment. Twisting around until her upper body was somewhat unencumbered, she drew back a hand and slapped Gabriel’s smirking face as hard as she could manage.

The muted crack of her kid-gloved palm against his cheek sent Arion jittering sideways with an alarmed snort. Celia was forced to grab Gabriel’s forearm to avoid being unseated until he reined the horse back under control.

The weight of his displeasure was evident in the restrained way one arm squeezed around her waist. There was a heart-pounding silence before he gripped her chin in the palm of his free hand and turned her face to his. Even the breeze seemed to steel itself for confrontation as he regarded her. Then his brow smoothed into an impassive façade, and not for the first time, Celia wondered how he came to have the thin, white scar slicing across his forehead.

“Try that again, my lady, and you shall find yourself over my knee for a bit of much-needed discipline. And unless I decide to show mercy, it will not be a pleasant experience for you.”

Seeing the determined glint in his golden brown eyes, Celia swallowed hard and screwed up her courage. “You wouldn’t dare.”