Page 17 of A Perilous Passion

“He was drummed out of the army because he couldn’t ride a horse,” said Miss Daniell.

He knuckled his forehead in frustration. Why did gossips always blow everything out of proportion?

“I heard,” said Hester, “that he couldn’t even go near one. It sends him into some sort of fit.”

If one considered a sneeze or two a fit…

“No good officer can operate without a horse,” said Miss Daniell.

He would dispute that. He’d done quite nicely without one, walking alongside his men. He’d gained their loyalty and respect, not disdain, by being one of them, down in the mud and gore, and not keeping himself apart, mounted sixteen hands above them in the heat of battle.

Until that blasted sergeant had forgotten to tie his horse up properly.

“Beckport left the army in humiliation. He’s been a recluse ever since.”

“Ashamed to hold his head up in public, no doubt,” Miss Daniell said. “I heard his family disowned him and his fiancée deserted him. He’s invited to none of the routs and parties in town. Most people don’t even remember what he looks like.”

Well, he hoped that last part was accurate. The rest was pure—and vicious—fiction. He saw his mother and sister regularly, and he’d never even had a fiancée.

“Charlotte, are you feeling quite well? You look flushed.”

“I’m fine. Just a bit warm.”

“Nonsense—it’s cold and miserable. Whatever ails you? You’re trembling!” said Miss Daniell.

“It must be the mention of Lord Beckport,” scoffed Hester. “Dear Charlotte is horrified at the idea of such a cowardly gentleman.”

He should stop listening now. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear Charlotte’s response to that. Not that there was any reason her opinion should matter in the least. He hadn’t come to Fortuneswell to try to impress the ladies.

Focus on the mission. No distractions.

“I’m perfectly well,” Charlotte returned. “Please put the smelling salts away.” After a moment, she said, “Well, regardless of all that, Beckport is still an earl. That must count for something in Society. Is he considered handsome, at least?”

He made a face. That was what she wanted to know?

“Oh yes,” Miss Daniell said. “Like an Adonis.”

He flushed. Thank you.

Hester said, “What is it men say about other men when they admire them and think they would be good wrestlers or boxers?”

Miss Daniell giggled. “That they would strip to advantage.”

Miss Allston gasped. “Thea!”

All three women tittered.

“I once overheard some gentlemen say that of Beckport,” Hester supplied. “They didn’t know I was listening, of course.”

He rather wished gentlemen would keep such opinions to themselves. Perhaps he would decide never to rejoin Society after the war was over.

Miss Allston continued to query, and Hester continued to share her knowledge of him. Clearly also an avid reader and memorizer of the gossip columns.

“He’s wealthy, mind you, very comfortable, indeed,” she stated. “He doesn’t go out much, as I mentioned, but uses an agent to pick out his furnishings and art.”

Miss Allston said, “You say he can’t ride a horse, but has anyone ever suggested he ride a mule or a donkey instead? That might suit him better.”

Her friends erupted into gurgles of laughter. Eventually, Hester gasped, “An aristocrat on a donkey! Oh, what a corker! You do say the most remarkable things at times. I’m so glad you came to live in Fortuneswell.”