James laughed again, a bright sound in the darkness with clean, even teeth exposed. "My manners appear to have been drowned as well it seems. James Rossmund, at your service. And please. I am no more a Lord than poor Ninny here is!" Chuckling apologetically, James gave a bow that mocked himself more than anything else. He turned to brush down his horse with great care, speaking to his hostess as he worked. "I inherited his lands and coin, not his title. Not until I marry. So I remain a wealthy brat living off the fat of his uncle's bequest. Grenmere Hall is my domain and property as are the woods and lands about it, so say the solicitors. After today I daresay a certain hare would contest all of that!"

For all of his banter and light hearted cheer, James worked at his horse's care with a careful eye. One might mistake him for a stablehand or groom what with how exacting he was in seeing to the gelding's care and comfort. Finally satisfied, he tossed the saddle blanket back over his mount's back to keep off the worst of the night's chill. "Hang in there tonight, Ninny, and tomorrow it will be barley oats and rye for you, I promise!"

Turning back to his hostess, he smiled again. Her beauty struck at him, like seeing the sunrise break through the clouds after the worst of storms. It was not an angel's face that peered at him from its frame work of luxurious black curls; surly no angel ever had such mischief twinkling in her eyes, nor such a gloriously tanned complexion! More over, he did not think that a messenger of the most holy God would stir more... earthly passions. Why could not the paraded cattle his mother continually forced by his eye look more like this woman?! BE more like this woman?! For as he stared at her trying desperately to think of what he might say next, James was forced to concede that it was not just looks alone that drew his attention. It was the way she carried herself, the self assurance, the confidence! And how she spoke as well. Past that country accent, he could well see the cunning and intelligence she possessed, betrayed to him by her humor. It made James want to sigh in regret and frustration, for he surely doubted ever finding such a treasure among the eligible candidates his dam had insisted upon, and marriage with a woman from the lower classes had never crossed his mind.

Finding his tongue, he gestured at her leg. "You call the thorns teeth as though these briars and brambles meant to bite at you," he teased, "Perhaps they were jealous at finding a flower far more fair in their midst? But come now! You have my name now, and I find myself the poorer without it! Might I not have your name to fill my empty purse?"