Page 22 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
Her irritation rose to a pitch, concealed under an impassive face. That Mr. Dowling thought himself properly positioned to give her a warning bothered her more than anything. She hoped he would never lump her into his use of “we” again. It took everything in her to hide her disdain.
“I thank you for your observation regarding Mr. Rowles. I will bring the notion up with my father,” Geny said.
In truth, the earl never cared about issues that involved the people working in the orphanage. She had tried in the past to draw his interest there, and it had always been without result. However, she could speak directly to her father’s man of business herself if needed. Mr. Peyton oversaw the orphanage, after all. And she was sure that Mr. Dowling’s words were spoken more from jealousy than anything else.
“As you wish, my lady.” He seemed disappointed.
“As for your warning, you need not concern yourself with my affairs. Mr. Rowles and I will visit the stable in the groom’s presence. Besides, I am able to care for myself.” It required considerable effort, but she smiled at Mr. Dowling and moved to step past him. “Now, if you will excuse me…”
She let the rest dangle and left him to go to Mr. Rowles’s office, her relief palpable as soon as she had escaped, although she felt Mr. Dowling’s eyes on her back.
She walked in quiet steps down the corridor, stopping in front of the doorway of Mr. Rowles office and looked in. He sat at his desk in his shirtsleeves, poring over the account books, just as Mr. Dowling had said. To her untrained eye, these books did not look new, so there might have been something in the accusation. But Mr. Rowles was likely trying to make sure everything had been noted correctly.
He looked up and smiled broadly when he saw her, which made her forget any doubt the headmaster had tried to instill in her. Mr. Rowles stood and bowed before glancing down at his appearance. His smile fled, replaced by a panicked expression.
“Forgive me,” he said, reaching for his coat in a hasty gesture. “I should not have removed my coat in such an improper manner. But I was growing too warm.”
“I do not mind it,” she said, hiding her smile.On the contrary.It only shows you to advantage.
She stepped back into the corridor to give him privacy and allow him to finish dressing, thinking what an intimate thing it was to be standing in the same room with a gentleman as he buttoned his coat. When he cleared his throat, she stepped back into the office. For the first time, Mr. Rowles appeared to be flustered and did not meet her gaze. It was nice to see him uncertain for once, which was how she felt each time she was in his presence. It caused her heart to flutter, and she bit her cheeks to keep from smiling.
“How may I assist you, my lady?” he asked, his smile sheepish but with a warm light in his eyes.
“You may accompany me to the stable,” she said. “That is, if you can spare the time. There is a matter there requiring your attention. Part of the wall is about to crumble and needs to be repaired.”
Mr. Rowles gestured forward. “I am perfectly ready to accompany you. Let us attend to it now.”
“It should not take long.”
They walked in silence past Mr. Dowling’s office, where he sat at his desk, only glancing up briefly as they went by. They continued into the corridor and down the stairs leading to the courtyard. When they stepped out on the cobblestones, he held out his arm.
“Please allow me to escort you. The ground is uneven here, and I would not like for you to turn your ankle.”
“You are very kind.” Her stomach gave a little dip as she slipped her arm into his. Yes, it was just as firm and solid as she had remembered it.
An unwelcome thought accosted her as she wondered forthe first time what her father would think of Mr. Rowles and whether he would countenance the match. She was certain he would not and did not dare to imagine what it would be like to go against her father’s will.
“So, I am no gentleman and therefore cannot possess a basic code of conduct that would safeguard you against unwanted advances,” he said, pulling her thoughts from the unpleasant direction in which they had gone. For a moment she was confused, unable to make sense of his words, until she realized that he had overheard Mr. Dowling from his office. His gaze was trained ahead, and when she glanced at him, saw a brief quirk of his lips that let her know he was amused more than anything.
“You heard that, did you?” She gave a quiet laugh. “But you will have noticed that I did not take the warning seriously.”
“Did you not?” he asked. “I will have to take your word for it. Only Mr. Dowling’s words reached me. I heard none of yours.”
The smile still sounded in his voice, and she replied tartly, “I am here with you, am I not?”
“You are.” He gave an ever so slight pull toward him so that she felt the warmth of him through her pelisse. “And I thank you for the trust you have placed in my common decency.”
She glanced at him again and, although he still wore a teasing look, she was fairly certain there was some sincerity in his words.
Chapter Eight
“Careful, my lady.” John steered Lady Eugenia away from a puddle in her path, reminding himself to pay more attention and not lead her straight into one. There was something about her that made him forget everything else.
Ever since the Sookholme ball, he had been unable to pull his thoughts away from Lady Geny—for that was what he had begun to call her in his mind. She was a beauty, that much was clear. But she had also been surprisingly easy to talk to when they were at the ball together. He had never before enjoyed such a simple, natural exchange with a woman. Usually, women were for charming, and he knew the easy victory of winning them over simply for the sake of being able to do it. Lady Geny, however, was no easy victory; he could not view her in that light.
True, he had sensed, and had been nearly certain of, her interest in him from the beginning. The open way she had spoken with him that night confirmed it, as did the way she froze when he had nearly lost his mind and kissed her in public. She had been as affected by the mood as he was. The fact thatshe had disregarded Mr. Dowling’s words of caution only reinforced which way her heart lay.
But this could bring John no satisfaction, for she was far above his touch. It was not that she was a daughter to a peer—he had never cared for such a thing. It was the way she loved the foundling infant and all the orphans. The way she had seemed to accept him from the beginning without having proof of his status. On the contrary—she believed him to be nothing more than a common man with no ties to the gentry. And yet, she treated him with a manner that was beyond cordiality. She showed warmth and interest. He did not deserve a woman like that, not with his less-than-pristine past.
