“Who was that handsome young woman I saw you conversing with so long last evening?” Winnie inquired of Theo the following morning across the breakfast table.
He flinched as Miss Bennet returned to his mind—not that she’d wandered far from his thoughts in the hours since their meeting. What a vision of loveliness she was in her low-cut empire evening gown. Copper silk, he thought, though the ambient lighting of the assembly rooms made it impossible to be certain. Neither could he tell the color of her hair. He only knew it was dark—brunette or auburn—and that her eyes were either hazel or green.
There was one thing, though, of which he was sure: he liked Miss Louisa Bennet more than was prudent under the circumstances. He just hoped he’d not given her reason to expect his suit.
“If you must know, the lady was Miss Louisa Bennet.” He took a sip of tea from a bone china teacup to wash down a bite of pickled herring. “Why do you ask?”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” Winnie gave him an innocent smile that fooled him not for a moment. “I actually saw you smiling—more than once—and wondered who or what had put you in such good humor.”
As a blush warmed his face, he hoped his sister would take no notice. “Her conversation was rather diverting.”
“And her face very beautiful, as I observed.”
“Yes, that too,” he reluctantly agreed.
Winnie got that look she always did whenever he was pleased by some young lady or other. As if a pretty face and a few smiles were enough to turn his head—or mend his ruined heart. “Did you make plans to see her again?”
“Why would I?”
Winnie frowned at him across the table. “Perhaps because, from where I stood, it looked as if you were exceedingly pleased with her.”
“As I said, she was witty.” He cleared his throat and took another sip of tea before tacking on, “But also quite mad.”
Winnie’s brow puckered. “Mad? In what way?”
He lowered his chin and raised his eyebrows. “She offered me dancing lessons, if you can believe it.”
Winnie looked more perturbed than amused. “I can believe it and, furthermore, I think it very charitable of her.”
“That is exactly what it was.” He took a triangle of buttered toast from the silver rack in the middle of the table. “And I by no means want charity from anyone.”
“I doubt charity, in the sense you mean, was her motive.”
“Whatever the reason,” he said, biting the toast, “stumbling about in an attempt to master the complicated steps required to dance even passably well shall serve no better purpose than to make her more aware of my shortcomings.”
“Well, I think it was very kind of her,” his sister said. “I also think she offered to give you lessons because she is interested in you, not because she feels sorry for you.”
“Which is equally dangerous.”
Winnie wrinkled her nose. “How so?”
“It matters not.” Taking another bite of his toast, he studied his sibling. She had always been a pretty creature, but now her heart-shaped face was more angular than round and her cherubic pink lips, when pursed, took on a womanly sensuality he did not care to see in the sister he’d looked out for since childhood. Moreover, her blossoming maturity served as a painful reminder she would fly the nest before he was ready to let her go.
Winnie heaved a frustrated sigh. “Theo, one bad apple in a bushel does not mean all the rest are no better.”
“I know that,” he said crossly. “But I shall not scruple to assert that any woman—especially one as charming as Miss Louisa Bennet—would want a cripple for a husband. Unless she is only after his money. And that is far from the kind of woman I would choose if I had the least inclination to take a wife. Which, as I keep telling you, I most certainly do not.”
Winnie heaved an exasperated sigh. “Well, I disagree and, moreover, think you ought to give Miss Bennet the benefit of the doubt—and a fair chance to prove herself better than you presume—before writing her off as either mad or mercenary. For I believe she favored you and that you favored her in return, which seems an excellent beginning for two single people of marriageable age.”
Theo, having none of it, restrained the urge to roll his eyes. “Perhaps it would be if I were in the market for a wife, but I am not, as I’ve explained many times.”
“Yes, yes. So you keep saying. And yet I hear you making no denials about fancying Miss Bennet.”
“I will confess feeling drawn to the lady,” he said tightly, “and nothing more.”
All the more reason to steer clear of her, I daresay.
Weary of discussing Miss Bennet, Theo threw his napkin on his plate and grabbed his cane. As he hoisted himself off the chair, he gave his sister a reproving look. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am going for a ride to explore the countryside. I have a mind to see Major’s Leap, which, as I understand it, is not far from here.”
She looked up at him, her youthful brow crumpled. “Pray, what is Major’s Leap?”
“It is what the locals call Wenlock Edge, the steep limestone escarpment over which Major Thomas Smallman rode his horse during the Civil War.”
The dent between Winnie’s eyebrows deepened. “Upon my soul, why would he do such a thing?”
“Because he was a Royalist, and Cromwell’s troops were closing in on him. The Major had important dispatches on his person, and was cornered on the ridge. Rather than surrender, he galloped his horse over the edge, falling some two hundred feet. Though his horse was killed, he was saved by an apple tree. Afterwards, he walked the thirteen miles to Shrewsbury, where he delivered the letters just before the Roundheads arrived.”
She gave him a hard look. “Well, I do hope you are not going there to re-enact the Major’s daring feat.”
He glared at her, annoyed. “Winnie, for heaven’s sake, why would I do any such thing?”
She lowered her gaze to her plate. “Perhaps because you will not allow yourself to be happy.”
Before he could formulate an answer, someone rang the doorbell. His pulse quickened. Might it be Miss Bennet calling? Half of him hoped it was indeed her, while the other half dreaded meeting her again. With his feelings still pulling in opposite directions, he turned back to his sister. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“Not a soul,” she said, looking quite as put out as he was.
The next moment, Murphy came in and announced in his lilting brogue that a Mrs. and Miss Cuthbertson were calling upon them both.
Theo pulled on his chin while endeavoring to put faces to the names. Had he met them last night at the ball? But for Miss Bennet, his memories of the assembly were clouded by all the brandy he’d imbibed.
He squinted across the table at his sister. “Do you have any notion who the Cuthbertsons are?—or why they might be calling?”
“I do indeed know who they are, though only because they were pointed out to me last evening.” Winnie squinted as she added, “And it is not difficult to deduce what they want—not with us, but with you. The mother is the widow of a Baronet who now lives on a pittance, owing to her late husband’s gambling debts. And, as I understand it, her daughter making an advantageous marriage is her only avenue of escape from her diminished circumstances.”
“My thanks for the useful briefing, sister dear. I do believe at times I would be lost without you—while at others you try my patience exceedingly.”
Snatching his brown velvet riding coat off the back of the chair, Theo pulled it on. Then, with Winnie on his heels, he made his way to the parlor, where he found their callers seated on the sofa facing the fire.
The mother, dressed in widow’s weeds, wore an expression as somber as her clothing. The daughter, madam’s polar opposite, wore a pleasant smile and a white-lawn visiting gown partially concealed by a plum-colored spencer jacket.
As Theo and Winnie came into the room, both ladies gained their feet and dipped into curtsies.
“Forgive us for intruding upon you uninvited,” Mrs. Cuthbertson offered. “But, as we were denied the pleasure of making your acquaintances last evening, calling upon you this morning seemed the best way to correct the oversight.” A smile spread across her lipless mouth as she added, “And now that you have extended to us the graciousness of your company, I hope you will allow me to introduce myself and my daughter, Miss Augusta Cuthbertson, who, as you can no doubt imagine, is admired far and wide for her fairness of face.”
He could well imagine, for the girl was undeniably handsome. Her beauty, however, was nothing to Miss Bennet’s. Not in his eyes, leastwise.
“I am delighted to make your acquaintances.” He bowed slightly to mother and daughter before gesturing toward Winnie, who was still by his side. “Now, if you will allow me to return the favor, I should like to present to you both Miss Winnifred Raynalds, my sister and ward.”
Once the introductions and pleasantries were accomplished, mother and daughter reclaimed their seats on the sofa while brother and sister parked themselves in the facing chairs on either side. When Mrs. Cuthbertson struck up a conversation with Winnie, Miss Cuthbertson slid toward the arm nearest Theo.
The lady proceeded to converse with him upon trivial topics in a subdued voice, as if trying to sooth a sick child. Whenever he tried to steer the topic to something more consequential—in the hopes of penetrating her vapid shell—she only agreed with everything he said. Never mind that some of his statements were too ludicrous to be believed.
At length, she leaned closer. The floral scent of her perfume assaulted his senses as she said, in the low, breathy voice of seduction, “I would have made your acquaintance last night were my dance card not already full.” Her cheeks colored and she pressed her unengaged hand to her throat. “Forgive me, sir, for I had quite forgotten your…handicap. Unless, of course, I am mistaken in my belief that your…er, injury makes dancing…well, challenging, to say the least.”
Stomach in knots, he said tersely, “You are not mistaken.”
“I thought not,” she said, oblivious to his discomfort. “I understand your deficiencies, you see, and can safely promise you, I will not mind them the least little bit after we…”
Curse the presumptuous chit! They had only just met and she was already planning their wedding. Such audacity was not to be borne. Fuming inside, he bit his tongue to avoid saying something he would later regret.
It was always the same with the gold-digging vultures who came around—with one notable exception. Edwina, his ex-fiancée, had been honest with him. Brutally so, to his misfortune.
“You will think me forward.” Miss Cuthbertson reached over the gap between sofa and chair to squeeze his forearm. “I just wanted you to know I by no means mind your debility, in case you fear I do.”
Her words drove the dagger deeper. She obviously found the idea of bedding him just as repulsive as Edwina had. Well, he was not taken in by her act. If he ever did decide to marry—a very big if, mind you—he would choose someone who truly loved him as he was, warts and all. Someone he desired and knew for a certainty was genuinely attracted to him. Someone who did not play games to entrap him by pretending to have feelings she did not. And, first and foremost, someone who did not think she was granting him a tremendous favor by becoming his wife.
Someone like….
Are you not able-bodied in the ways that count?
God in Heaven! He still could not believe Miss Bennet had posed such a provocative question. It did, however, suggest she might be thinking of him in a sexual way. Truth be told, he'd been thinking of her in a similar vein. In fact, just such meditations on Miss Bennet’s virtues had kept him awake the better part of the night.
Miss Cuthbertson, on the other hand, had no hope of arousing such thoughts or feelings in him. Though she was pretty enough, he felt no spark. And she evidently felt nothing for him beyond the obligation to do her duty by her mother.
Eager to escape her company, he fabricated an excuse to leave the room. Miss Cuthbertson gained her feet and attempted to help him to his, even though he had his cane and required no assistance. Flushed with fury and embarrassment, he let her help him to avoid giving offense. At the door, he turned back, seeking his sister’s gaze. The sympathetic look she gave him suggested she fully supported his sudden departure.
In the entry hall, he collected his top hat and leather riding gloves and put them on as he limped toward the stables. Finding his horse ready and waiting, he mounted the platform. When his good leg was secure in the stirrup, he threw the false one over the saddle.
Once he found his seat, he pulled the mare’s head around and used his heels and knees to urge her into a gallop. As he rode toward the escarpment, he tried very hard not to think about how close Miss Bennet came to being just the sort of woman who could tempt him to risk his heart again.