Читать книгу A Most Unsuitable Match - Julia Justiss - Страница 11

Not sure whether to be amused or indignant, Prudence obliquely studied her escort from the corner of her eye as she walked beside him. ‘Was that an introduction, or a kidnapping?’

‘You really couldn’t refuse to stroll with me. Not after the signal service I just performed.’

He had her there. Truly, she wasn’t sure what to make of him.

The image of a pirate had flashed through her mind when she’d first observed him in Sidney Gardens, leaning his tall, raw-boned frame down to murmur in his aunt’s ear, dark golden hair curling over the collar of his regimentals. And the gaze he’d given her! Admiration and interest shining in grey-green eyes with a look so penetrating, it seemed he was trying to see right into her soul.

She felt another stir of...something, in the pit of her stomach, just recalling it.

Viewed up close, his lean, tanned face was even more compelling, with its high cheekbones, thin, blunt mouth, purposeful nose and arresting eyes. His regimentals hung rather loosely on him, as if he’d been ill. A fact his slight limp and Aunt Gussie had confirmed, when her aunt, alas, had steered them on to a side path back at the Sidney Gardens, warning Pru she should avoid this youngest son of a notoriously rakehell family.

Rakehell or not, he’d boldly coerced that disapproving matron into recognising her. A move that, had it failed, would have embarrassed him as much as her. Was he compassionate, clever—or just reckless, indifferent whether the gamble would work or not? Uncaring, if it failed, that he had brought humiliating and unwelcome attention to her?

But it had worked and would give a definite push to her campaign for acceptance.

‘In fairness, I do owe you thanks,’ she acknowledged at last. ‘Lady Stoneway’s credit and that of her friend Mrs Marsden are sufficient that most of Bath society deigns to receive me, but there have been...recalcitrants, Lady Arbuthnot chief among them.’ She laughed. ‘Now that you’ve so cleverly manoeuvred her into recognising me, I can breathe a sigh of relief. Although, ungrateful as it may seem, I’m afraid I can’t afford to show my thanks by associating with you once this stroll is concluded.’

‘What, have you been warned against me?’ he asked with a smile. ‘Didn’t think I’d been in Bath long enough for that.’

‘I saw you at Sidney Gardens earlier today with your aunt. I don’t mean to be uncivil, but Aunt Gussie said you have the reputation of being a...a reckless adventurer. And with it presumed that you’re about to leave the army, it’s also said you are...’ She hesitated, her own experience with rumour and innuendo making her loath to repeat further ill of him without knowing the truth.

‘A fortune hunter?’ he supplied, seeming not at all offended. ‘Or have you heard the other version, the one in which I’m in Bath trying to turn my aunt up sweet, so she’ll settle funds on me? You mustn’t feel uncomfortable, repeating the rumours, Miss Lattimar. After all, I’ve been warned against you, too.’

She stiffened, a feeling almost of...betrayal escaping. So her scepticism had been warranted. He hadn’t helped her out of kindness, just on a whim, too devil-may-care to worry about the consequences. ‘I wonder then that you bothered to rescue me,’ she said, unable to keep the anger from her voice.

He halted, forcing her to look up at him. ‘I should think you, of all people, would understand. I dislike seeing someone branded for something only rumour alleges—me, or anyone else. A sentiment I suspect you share. I shall judge you as I find you, not for who your mother was. Everyone in Bath ought to do the same.’

So he had acted out of compassion. Anger faded, replaced by chagrin that such a gesture had been necessary—and that she’d initially judged him more harshly than he had her. Following on that was something else more unexpected—a deep sense of...kinship at his empathy. As if they understood each other.

She had no business feeling either chagrin or connection for a penniless soldier of dubious reputation. Calling on years of practice, she suppressed the volatile emotions before they could show on her face.

She’d be wise to escape the company of a man who had, in the space of a few moments, called up feelings strong enough to compromise the tranquil façade she must present to the world. And whose escort would do nothing to further her aim of attracting an eminently respectable man to marry.

Once she was sure her voice wouldn’t tremble, she said, ‘Much as I honour you for those sentiments, you must realise that with my reputation, I can’t afford to be seen on easy terms with a man usually regarded as a careless adventurer.’ She gave him a deprecating smile. ‘The fortune-hunter part is less of a problem, since it’s widely believed that only my large dowry would ever induce a man to risk marrying me.’

‘Then he would be a very great fool.’

Surprised, she lifted her gaze back up to those grey-green eyes—and was mesmerised. Something flashed between them, some wordless connection accompanied by an attraction as fiery as it was unexpected. Her stomach swooped, her breathing grew unsteady and she could almost feel his arm burning her fingertips through the layers of her gloves and his sleeve. A sudden, inexplicable desire filled her to move closer, feel his arms around her, his lips...

With a start, she looked away, ending the fraught moment. Merciful heavens, what had come over her? This man is even more dangerous than I thought.

Jerking her hand free, she said, ‘I had best return to my aunt.’

He caught up to her in a step. ‘At least, let me walk with you. Otherwise, it will be said that you found my conversation so improper, you felt it necessary to abandon me in the middle of the Pump Room. Which will do my reputation no good.’

‘Very well,’ she said, not looking at him—and very careful not to take his arm. ‘But as I already told you, I won’t be able to walk with you again.’

‘Do you always do what propriety dictates?’ he asked.

She looked at him then. ‘I haven’t a choice,’ she said bleakly.

‘We always have a choice, Miss Lattimar. I’ll say “goodbye”, not “farewell”,’ he murmured as they reached her aunt. ‘Lady Stoneway, Miss Lattimar, a pleasure,’ he said more loudly, bowing as he turned her over to her chaperon.

And then left them. She couldn’t help watching as, his soldier’s bearing erect despite his injury, he limped away across the room.

Her aunt’s fan tapping at her wrist recalled her attention. ‘That was handsomely done,’ she said, inclining her head towards the departing soldier. ‘I hope you thanked him as you walked with him, because you mustn’t do so again. It would do your chances no good for you to become more closely acquainted.’ Aunt Gussie sighed. ‘A shame, for he is a handsome devil, isn’t he?’

‘Is he a womaniser? Or is his reputation just rumour?’ As mine is.

‘His reputation is more that of an adventurer. He went out to join the army in India right after university. Not that he had much choice, with the family already done up and no source of income for him here in England. Got himself wounded in some clash with the natives. His oldest brother inherited while he was away—a mountain of debt. With three other brothers who never met a lightskirt they didn’t try to seduce, a horse they wouldn’t wager on, or a Captain Sharp they didn’t try—and fail—to best in a game of chance, it’s no wonder he stayed away. Or is considering wedding himself to a fortune, if he’s decided his wandering days are done. His pedigree is elevated enough that, despite his lack of funds, he might very well accomplish that—though he hasn’t thus far shown any interest in doing so.’

‘Has he never met a lightskirt he didn’t try to seduce, a horse he wouldn’t wager on, or a Captain Sharp he didn’t want to best?’

‘Whether he’s as profligate as his brothers, no one knows. As I said, he’s been away from England practically since he was a schoolboy. Another rumour claims that he has no wish to marry and is hanging about Lady Woodlings’s skirts instead, hoping she’ll leave her money to him. That one may be more credible, given the tittle-tattle about him cutting a swathe through the faster matrons at the cantonments in India. There are even rumours of a Eurasian paramour—a maharani, if I recall correctly.’

With her upbringing, Pru was hardly scandalised. Instead, she realised ruefully, she felt a little envious, that a man could go anywhere in the world and do anything he wanted. While she had to watch every word she said and every action she took.

His reputation as an adventurer might make him unsuitable husband material for her—but it certainly enhanced his fascination.

‘People love to gossip about the strange and foreign.’

Aunt Gussie chuckled. ‘When they aren’t gossiping about the present and familiar! In any event, I doubt he’s lived as a saint—not a man adventurous enough to leave hearth and kin at such an early age with scarcely a penny to his name and make his way in a continent halfway around the world.’

What would it be like to have such adventures? Pru wondered. To boldly go wherever the whim took you, pit your wits and courage against whatever obstacles you encountered?

Something she would never discover, she thought wistfully. She’d count herself fortunate to land a respectable husband and settle in a quiet, conventional village.

Suppressing the envy as she did every other disturbing emotion, she said, ‘With his birth and that handsome countenance, I doubt it would take him long to charm some susceptible lady of fortune into marrying him. Charming his aunt, I’m not so sure.’

‘I’m sure of neither, despite that handsome face. He’d do better to cozen up to a rich widow. Although, with his lineage, he’d be considered a good catch by most society families, the highest sticklers might not favour having a man with an adventurer’s reputation marry their daughter.’ Her aunt gave her a look. ‘A young lady of...fragile reputation should never let an adventurer approach her at all.’

‘You needn’t preach, Aunt Gussie. I understand my limitations quite well.’ Even if she had to squelch a ridiculous little pang of loss at the idea of never speaking again to the intriguing Lieutenant Trethwell. Never being able to coax him to tell her about his adventures in lands she and Temper had only read about in travel journals and memoirs—what a Hindustani village really looked like, what it was like to hunt a tiger, what sort of jewels a maharani wore.

Even if her fortune interested him, she couldn’t redeem her reputation by marrying a man almost as infamous as she was. Those few heated glances, that unexpected rush of attraction, were all she’d ever have of him.

What they wanted for their futures was completely different.

She tried to picture him in civilian dress in some small country manor, talking about crops and dandling a baby on his knee, and laughed out loud.

Impossible!

As was any foolish desire for more of his company. She needed to keep her mind fixed on her goal: to marry a man with a reputation impeccable enough to rehabilitate her own, live with him and raise their children in a quiet village, creating a warm, happy family far away from the gossip and casual cruelty of society. She should lose no time scouring Bath for such a man—and then charming him into marrying her.

Feeling somehow dispirited, despite that firm conviction, she said, ‘Shall we return to the Circus, Aunt Gussie?’

‘Perhaps we shall. I am feeling a bit weary after all our walking.’

But as she took her aunt’s arm to lead her to reclaim their cloaks, Lady Stoneway suddenly halted. ‘Not quite yet, my dear! There’s someone over there I should very much like you to meet.’

The tone of her aunt’s voice could only mean the ‘someone’ was an eligible young man. A spurt of excitement pulling her from her melancholy, hoping the brisk walk in the gardens that had put roses in her cheeks hadn’t disordered her curls too much, Pru clutched her aunt’s arm more tightly and allowed herself to be led to the opposite side of the floor.

‘Lady Wentworth, Mrs Dalwoody! How nice to see you both!’

The two ladies turned...their movement then copied by the tall man who stood beside them and Pru caught her breath.

She needed no introduction to know that this swoon-worthy gentleman was as wealthy and nobly born as he was handsome. He wore his exquisitely tailored clothing with the unconscious sense of superiority found only in those with old money and important connections.

Or at least, he appeared wealthy. The distinguished family name, she could count on. The two society matrons her aunt had just called out would never have allowed a nouveau-riche Cit with social aspirations in their midst. And no man of lesser breeding would emanate such an aura of self-confidence, as if both accustomed to and taking for granted the notice he attracted.

For in truth, she realised, hers weren’t the only eyes focused on him. He was the object of the interested gaze of every female in the vicinity—and most of the gentlemen.

‘Lady Stoneway, I’d heard you were visiting Bath,’ Lady Wentworth said warmly, giving her aunt—a friend of long-standing, Pru knew—a hug. ‘With your charming niece, too!’

‘Augusta, how good to see you again,’ Mrs Dalwoody said. ‘And, my dear, how lovely you’ve grown! Already budding fair to become a Beauty last time I met you, though I’m sure you don’t remember. You couldn’t have been more than fourteen, that summer I visited dear Augusta at Chemberton Park.’

With an amused smile, the young man cleared his throat. ‘Please, ladies, in your enthusiasm for greeting one another, you’ve quite left me out! Won’t you introduce me to these charming newcomers?’

‘How impolite of me!’ Lady Wentworth exclaimed. ‘Lady Stoneway, Miss Lattimar, may I present Lord Halden Fitzroy-Price, youngest son of my good friend, the Duchess of Maidstone? Newly come down from university, and waiting to be appointed to an ecclesiastical post!’

He made them a bow as impeccably tailored as his coat—which was cut in the latest style, tightly nipped in at the waist with flaring tails. ‘Ladies, honoured to make your acquaintance.’

The glance he gave them was politely brief—until, to Pru’s gratification, it returned to linger on her. ‘Miss Lattimar, Mrs Dalwoody is quite right. You are an Incomparable! Why have I not encountered you in London? I believe my friends must have been deliberately keeping you from me, to hoard this treasure for themselves!’

Pru knew her cheeks must be pinking at his gallantry, but she replied calmly, ‘You must not think so slightingly of your friends, Lord Halden. I’ve not yet been presented in London.’

‘Ah, that explains it, for I should never have forgotten so enchanting a face. Won’t you stroll with me, so we might repair Fortune’s lapse?’

Still a little dazed by his magnificence, at her aunt’s encouraging nod, Pru placed her hand on his sleeve. ‘You are newly come from university, you said. Which one?’

‘Cambridge. I’m not the most downy of scholars,’ he acknowledged with a deprecating glance designed to be disarming, ‘but I did well enough that, as Lady Wentworth said, my cousin, the Earl of Riding, has promised me one of the livings in his gift.’

‘Younger sons must make their own way,’ she acknowledged, firmly yanking her thoughts away from another more scandalous and all-too-attractive younger son who’d been making his own way in the world. ‘You had no taste for the army, I take it.’

He grimaced. ‘With the wars ended, there’d be no way to distinguish oneself by bravery, and who would want to be posted in some colonial backwater, enduring the heat of India, or the storms and humidity of the Indies? No, I fear I’m just a solid Englishman, perfectly content to never leave these shores.’

She curbed the impulse to reply that she would love to explore beyond England’s shores. And squelched the whisper of scepticism that said he was telling her what he thought she’d prefer to hear.

Why wouldn’t he? He’d probably been raised from his nurse’s knee to make himself agreeable in company.

Instead, she smiled and said, ‘Why would a true Englishman want to be anywhere else?’

‘My sentiments exactly.’

‘A political career didn’t interest you, either?’

He wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘Pandering to a lot of rabble in a clutch of grubby villages to win yourself a seat in Parliament? Decidedly not. And as for the government—well, a career in the diplomatic service is likely to land you at some point in the heat of India or the humidity and storms of the tropics! I’ll keep my feet firmly planted in English soil. What about you? Testing your wings in the placid pool of Bath before venturing into the treacherous waters of London?’

‘Something like that.’ Knowing there could never be any successful union without complete honesty, she added, ‘If you know anything of my...family situation, you would know that being in Bath is...more suitable now.’

He frowned and her heart sank. Rather than honestly acknowledging her circumstances, if he truly was unaware of them, had she blundered into making him suspicious that she was not as blameless a young maiden as she appeared before they’d hardly begun to get acquainted?

Then his face cleared and he smiled. ‘I suppose we all have skeletons in the cupboard. Let’s speak of something more pleasant. I take it from the ladies’ greetings that you are only recently arrived. Has your aunt subscribed you to the balls at the Assembly Rooms? Quite refined, although of course nothing to rival London.’

‘I believe she has.’

‘Excellent. I shall count upon the pleasure of leading you into a dance at the next cotillion ball, then.’

The sound of boisterous voices ahead drew their attention. They both looked over to see a group of soldiers entering, one of whom, scanning the room, spotted them and gave a wave. ‘Fitzroy-Price, old fellow,’ he cried, leading the group over. ‘Just knew there had to be someone among all these octogenarians with red blood in his veins.’

‘And the prettiest girl in the room on his arm,’ one of his companions observed.

‘Well, don’t just stand there!’ the first one said. ‘Introduce us!’

‘I’m not sure your chaperon would thank me for making these rascals known to you,’ Lord Halden said, looking uncertainly at the newcomers. But after several raised their voices, protesting his unfairness, he capitulated. ‘Miss Lattimar, may I present Lieutenant Lord Chalmondy Dawson, a friend from childhood, and Lieutenants Trevor Broadmere and Austen Truro, whom I know from university. One could hardly find a more capital group of fellows—for rousting about. But how do you come to be here?’

While Dawson explained the unit containing the former college mates had set up an encampment to conduct training exercises west of the city, and had come into town in search of some jollity, Pru’s eye was caught by a moving flash of scarlet as another soldier entered the Pump Room. He, too, looked around and then beckoned for a uniformed man already in the room to come join him.

Lieutenant Johnnie Trethwell.

After a short exchange, the newcomer plucked Trethwell by the sleeve and led him towards their group.

Pru drew in a sharp breath. Would Trethwell greet her by name—revealing she was already acquainted with just the sort of experienced adventurer society would assume a girl of scandalous reputation would seek out, reinforcing the image she was trying so hard to dispel?

While she waited, almost dizzy with anxiety, looking away as the two men approached, another soldier called out to the approaching men, greetings and genial insults being exchanged after the newcomers arrived. Even though she’d been deliberately ignoring him, the wave of awareness Trethwell generated when he grew near telegraphed his presence.

While she struggled with that, Trethwell’s companion said, ‘Lord Halden! Heard you’d landed here after bouncing out of Cambridge. Persona non grata with the pater in London now, are you?’ he added with a laugh—which her escort acknowledged with a thin smile.

‘Lieutenant Markingham, Miss Lattimar,’ Lord Halden said. ‘Always did have an acid tongue. And...’ He paused, his eyes scanning the Lieutenant.

‘You’re not acquainted with Trethwell?’ Markingham asked.

‘Trethwell?’ Lord Halden repeated—while the adventurer, whose amused expression, after a glance at her face, faded to a mask of politeness, stood by silently. ‘Sounds familiar. Ah, yes! Isn’t that the family name of the Marquess of Barkley?’

‘It is,’ Trethwell replied.

‘Then I was at Cambridge with your brother, James. Lord Halden Fitzroy-Price,’ he said, according the soldier the slightest of bows. ‘You are the scapegrace youngest brother who ended up in the army, I take it?’

Did Pru see or only imagine the flicker of anger in Trethwell’s eyes before his lips quirked in amusement? ‘At your service,’ he drawled, returning a much more elaborate bow.

‘I sincerely hope not,’ Lord Halden said. ‘Miss Lattimar, if I may escort you back to your aunt? I fear she would consider these rowdy comrades less than suitable companions for an innocent young lady.’

Ignoring the boos and laughter his dismissive comment created, the Duke’s son clasped her arm and led her off.

‘Sorry to be so presumptuous, Miss Lattimar,’ he said. ‘Most of that group were questionable enough. But your aunt would likely chastise me soundly were she to learn that I’d had the bad judgement to introduce you to a Trethwell. With the Lieutenant’s eldest brother holding so elevated a title, the family is still received, even though rumour says their estate is mortgaged to the hilt. But the younger brothers are penniless rakes to a man, with the Lieutenant reputed to be the most infamous of the lot.’

On the one hand, as a member of an infamous family herself, Pru could sympathise with the anger she glimpsed beneath Trethwell’s mocking tone and exaggerated bow. She knew all too well what it was like to be tarred with the same brush for a relative’s transgressions. On the other, she could hardly fault Lord Halden for trying to protect her reputation.

Would he be so concerned, once he learned about her circumstances? Or would he conclude that she no longer deserved such consideration?

She hoped he would end up being as fair as Lieutenant Trethwell. She didn’t yet know enough about Lord Halden’s character to accurately judge whether or not they would suit. But if he should decide to pursue her, she couldn’t fail to recognise that he didn’t just fulfil, but wildly exceeded, every requirement on her list.

He wasn’t only a respectable gentleman, but one of high degree, from an ancient family.

He wasn’t going to pursue a career in the rough and tumble of politics, which would require residing for months in the gossip hotbed of London, or interested in the army, which would take him from home for months or years at a time. No, he, like many a younger son, appeared to be destined for the church.

Waiting to receive an appointment, probably in some charming village far removed from the stench and bustle of the capital. Where as part of his living, he’d receive a fine manor house, doubtless with a large garden and enough income from grand and lesser tithes to employ a small staff of servants and live a comfortable life.

What more effective way to polish a tarnished reputation to gleaming brightness than to become a clergyman’s wife? Making rounds of the parish, calling on the sick, taking care of the lost and needy, and performing other good works?

Of course, it was a very large leap from a simple introduction and a man’s far-too-common admiration for her pretty face to mutual esteem, love and marriage.

But he had liked her pretty face. She intended to use that attraction to lure him into getting to know her better.

A vicar’s wife, respected, honoured and beloved by the community, she thought again, a glow warming her heart. For the first time since hearing of her mother’s latest scandal, Pru began to hope she might free herself from the shackles of her past after all.