‘A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.’
Her voice was as lovely as her face. He’d intended only to force Lady Arbuthnot to recognise her and then remove himself—not having, despite his aunt’s urging, any interest in trying to entice a wealthy young female to wed him. But he found he simply couldn’t walk away.
Instead, he held out his hand. ‘With your permission, Lady Stoneway, may I make a turn about the room with your niece?’ And before her chaperon had a chance to reply, he clapped a hand on Miss Lattimar’s arm and bore her off.
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