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
