Page 3 of A Lady of Conscience

“I also think that if you remain out here for a moment longer in service to those beliefs, you’re likely to catch your death.”

“I’m perfectly warm in my cloak,” she assured him. She hesitated before adding, “It’s you I worry about.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Me?”

“Do you often venture out into the snow without your coat or your neckcloth?”

“No. Not often.” His forehead creased. He lapsed into silence again for several seconds before admitting, “I’ve just come from the library, and a heated exchange with one of my brothers. The snow was the best remedy for my temper. That and a visit with my stallion. A few moments in his company never fails to restore my equanimity.”

Hannah nodded in immediate sympathy. She knew there had been tension in the house this evening, much of it owing to Lord St. Clare’s younger brother, Ivo Beresford, having invited the daughter of an estranged neighbor to their family party.

“Horses have that talent,” she said. “Troubles never seem so great when you’re standing beside one of them. It’s owing to their size, I believe. It dwarfs us, and our problems.”

“Very well put.”

“I contributed a brief article about the effect to a new journal on animal welfare that one of my correspondents is publishing in Bath. I mean to procure a copy for myself when next I visit.”

He gave her another of his unfathomable looks. “You’ll be traveling there in the spring?”

Hannah was surprised that he knew of her plans. She hadn’t talked about her upcoming season in Bath during her visit, except when in company with Charles and Lady Kate. “It’s to be my formal debut.” She felt compelled to add, “London wouldn’t have suited me. I prefer things to be simple.”

“Don’t we all.” He offered her his arm. “If you will permit me to escort you back inside?”

She cast a last glance at Dandy and Walter before taking it. “Very well.”

The muscles in Lord St. Clare’s arm were powerful under the curve of her gloved hand, unhindered by the thick layer of his coat. He was an athletic gentleman. A man as strong in his body as he was in his self-restraint.

His composure had been wobbling tonight in the aftermath of his argument with his brother. A disconcerting sight. She wondered what it would look like if the viscount ever lost control completely. If he ever succumbed to the wild, reckless, passionate nature for which the Beresford family was rumored to be famous.

It wasn’t likely to happen. And even if it did, Hannah wouldn’t be around to see it. In the spring she would go to Bath, where she would meet and marry a sensitive, bookish gentleman, as unlike the cold-blooded viscount as night was to day. It was for the best. She required warmth in her life. She required joy. Despite the cracks she’d observed in his armor, Lord St. Clare didn’t seem capable of either.

Back at the house, he held the kitchen door for her and waited as she preceded him inside.

She drew back the hood of her cloak, revealing the plaited coiffure of her dark auburn hair. “Thank you, my lord,” she said breathlessly. “I shall bid you goodnight.”

“Sleep well, Miss Heywood.”

“And you, sir.” With that, she hurried from the kitchens, her heart beating heavily at her throat. She was certain she felt the weight of his lordship’s gaze at her back, following her until she’d disappeared from his sight.

Chapter One

Bath, England

April 1844

“All roads lead to Bath,” Charles Heywood observed.

Hannah scarcely registered her older brother’s words. She was occupied staring out the window of their carriage as it traveled down Bennet Street toward the crowded Circus. Gently curving terraces of honey-colored limestone rose up alongside them. There were no harsh angles in Bath, only softness in both shade and form.

This wasn’t her first experience of the city’s beauty. Heywood House was but fifty miles from the fashionable watering place. She’d often visited as a child in company with her parents.

But Hannah wasn’t a little girl on holiday this time. She was a young lady embarking on her very first season. Her stomach trembled as she took in the fashionably clad ladies and gentlemen strolling along the busy thoroughfare.

Anxiety had been plaguing her for weeks. Months, in truth. So much of her future hinged on her debut. The pressure of it was nearly too much to bear.

It shouldn’t be this way. Not for a young lady of good family, with loving parents and a devoted brother to support her. It wasn’t as though Hannah was being forced to find a husband. She needn’t marry at all if she so chose. Both her mother and father had made that fact abundantly plain.

No. It was Hannah herself who had insisted on making her debut. Despite her shyness, despite the butterflies in her stomach and the apprehension buzzing in her veins, she was eager for her chance at romance. How could she not be? She had been an observer of romance all her life. Her parents were still deeply in love after decades of marriage. Her brother was in love too. His engagement to Lady Kate Beresford had been announced only last month.