Page 10 of Once Ruined, Twice Shy

He’d expected to find her asleep, comfortably drugged against the pain, but she was lying almost flat in the huge bed, staring wide-eyed at the velvet canopy above.

His cheeks heated. “Oh, forgive me. I hadn’t expected to find you awake. I only meant to make sure you had everything to hand which you might need.”

She turned her head towards him and smiled. Her mouth was small but perfectly shaped—like a Cupid’s bow—and looked silken as rose petals. It would be a teasing mouth to kiss.

Curse it! The first young woman he’d seen in months and his thoughts were already taking an ignoble direction. Perhaps he needed to find himself a mistress. He was only eight-and-twenty, and despite the demolition of his heart, his body was still virile.

“You look pale. Can I fetch you anything?”

“I have all I need, thank you. Although I shall be happier when my things are brought from the inn.”

“That should not be long now. Do you wish to sleep?”

She shook her head, her smile fading. “My thoughts refuse to allow it.”

That was an ailment he understood well enough. And he’d evolved many strategies for dealing with it over the last year. “Then I shall fetch a book and read to you. Either something to entertain and distract you, or a weighty tome that will bore you into somnolence. My library is chock-full of the latter.”

Good—her smile had returned.

“No, wait. I know what will amuse you. Have you heard the story of Princess Carraboo?”

“Of course. Everyone’s heard it. At least, most who live in the West Country, and read the journals.”

“And listen to gossip. It amazes me how such a fraud can be perpetrated—someone purporting to be what they are not, and hoodwinking others.”

That delightful mouth had thinned. He’d said something wrong. “You’re in sympathy with her, then?”

Miss Norton’s brow furrowed. “The world is full of people trying to better themselves. The lady in question chose a particularly imaginative method of doing it.”

His head went back. “By wearing bizarre clothing, speaking mumbo-jumbo, and claiming to be an abducted princess from a remote island in the East?” It was laughable. He couldn’t understand how anyone had been taken in by the so-called Princess Carraboo.

“She made a spectacle of herself in order to entertain others. No worse than any actor, popular dancer, or mountebank.”

“She was an impostor, not a thespian. It’s not the same thing at all, Miss Norton. An actor is separated from his—or her—audience. She actually lived in the home of the people she duped, ate from their table, and took advantage of their hospitality.”

Miss Norton was looking daggers at him. He’d touched a nerve, though he didn’t understand the reason.

She wagged a finger. “And she entertained their friends by fencing, shooting, and—allegedly—swimming naked. Showmanship. Not impersonation. For if there is no such person as Princess Carraboo, the lady was no impersonator.”

He drew his chair closer, enjoying their discussion. “You seem to have some sympathy with the impostor. Who did she turn out to be in the end? Oh yes, a Mary Willcocks, from Devon. Why do you defend someone who attempted to make fools of her fellow men?”

Her dark eyes snapped with irritation. “Are you so high in the instep that you don’t care for the plight of lesser folk? She was but a poor girl trying to make something of herself. And yet you condemn her.”

That hurt. He’d never looked down on the lower classes. There were differences between their class and his, yes, particularly in attitude and intelligence— but then again, he’d met some very stupid aristocrats.

“You mistake me. I certainly care for the plight of lesser mortals. I’m just pragmatic about such things.”

“You make up your mind based on facts, not feelings, or compassion.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Rightly so. I could equally argue that you judge a person’s actions based on your feelings about them, rather than facts.”

Her mouth twitched at this. The stormy look in her eyes was replaced by a twinkle. “Then I shall dub you Mr Facts.”

A chuckle escaped him. “Then I hope you won’t be offended if I dub you Miss Feelings.”

She smiled openly then, revealing a set of neat white teeth. He was dazzled by her radiant, flashing smile. He must try harder to tease her, so he might see it again.

“I regret not having fetched a book to read to you, Miss Feelings. We seem to be at odds when we should be making friends.”