Page 49 of A Lady of Conscience

“And you didn’t waltz with the lady?”

His brows sank. “I did, but… It was no more than a civility.”

“I see.” Hannah’s hand fell from his arm.

James keenly felt the absence of it. “You’re displeased with me.”

“I haven’t any right to be.”

“You have more right than anyone.” He caught her gently by the forearm, bringing her to a halt in front of him beneath the branches of an oak tree. “I was miserable in London.”

She gazed up at him. Her eyes held an aching uncertainty.

In that moment, James would have done anything to assuage it. “I spent every moment at the boxing saloon or with my fencing master, attempting to rid myself of these feelings I have for you,” he said. “And yes, I attended the marquess’s ball. I stupidly thought that your rejection might make another lady more palatable to me. Obviously, it didn’t. Even knowing that you didn’t want to marry me, I couldn’t fix my interest on anyone else.”

Hannah’s mouth trembled. “Your sister described Lady Augusta as a paragon.”

“She is.”

“And I am not, as my behavior yesterday will have amply proved to you.”

“I have no expectations in that regard,” he said. “I was a fool to have implied that I did.” He offered her a slight smile. “As for your rescue of the donkey, you will hear no criticism from me. I thought you conducted yourself magnificently.”

Hannah’s chin dipped down with embarrassment. “I don’t know about magnificent. It was an awful blunder, even if it was ultimately for the good.”

“As a man who has lately made several awful blunders, I can but commiserate.”

It was her turn to smile. This time it wasn’t a guarded one. It was warm, and a little rueful. “How is he?” she asked. “Have you made any arrangements for him yet?”

“At present, he’s comfortably ensconced with my horses at the Bull and Crown. Tomorrow, however, one of my grooms will be escorting him to Beasley Park. There are few places in the world more idyllic for human or animal. I’m confident he’ll be happy there. Or as happy as a donkey can be.” He offered her his arm again. “Shall we continue to the church?”

She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Donkeys are capable of great happiness,” she informed him. “Haven’t you ever heard them braying with joy when they recognize a friend in the pasture? It is the most heart-warming sound.”

“I shall take your word for it,” James said.

Together they walked on over the rise and down the serpentine path along a small woodland. The church was visible in the distance, its crumbling stone edifice rising amidst a stand of trees. It had walls, but no roof. Only the tower remained intact.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

“Never,” she replied. “Have you?”

“Once, when I was a lad. My brothers and I explored the ruins while my parents lunched on the grass with Kate. She threw a dreadful tantrum when she couldn’t come with us. Her face turned as red as a ripe tomato.”

Hannah’s lips quivered with reluctant amusement. “Poor thing. Why didn’t you allow her to join you?”

“She was but a small child at the time. We none of us wanted the charge of her. Not very gallant, I know, but we were scarcely much older ourselves.”

“Did you and your brothers play together often as children?”

“As often as any brothers might.” James glanced at her. “Does that surprise you?”

“It does, a little, I confess. You never joined in with Ivo and Jack’s merriment when I visited Beasley Park, or when your family came to stay at Heywood House.”

“No,” he acknowledged, his expression sobering. “Things changed after I went away to school.” He paused. “I changed.”

“How?”

“I grew up.”