She didn't stop even when she glanced over her shoulder and saw him behind her.
But she was no match for him, especially in her heavy dress.
Just as he reached her, she lost her footing and tumbled. And in his attempt to catch her, he tumbled along with her.
The rain was relentless, pouring down on both of them as they lay there, he atop her.
Cursing, he rolled away and tried to catch his breath.
Her chest heaved so much with her breaths that he was afraid she was convulsing.
"Why did you run?" He asked, shielding his eyes from the heavy drops with his hand.
She slowly sat up.
"Isn't it obvious?"
What was obvious?
He sat up as well. "We should return to the house." Then he climbed to his feet and offered her his hand.
She did not take it however.
"Please, do not make this any more difficult for either of us, Lady Whitmore." He heard himself say.
She peeled her matted hair out of her face and spat on the grass beside her.
