the back of her hand to his lips. “And you did not desire my company?”
Miss Purefoy blushed, and Aidan thought the color made her more beautiful. Decidedly piqued, she said softly for his ears only, “I assumed from your earlier remarks, Sir, you wished to have the truth of my parentage before you weighed judgment upon my role in this household.” He examined the lady’s defensive tone for the space of three heartbeats before his exasperation faded.
Aidan led her to a chair and seated her before continuing. Motioning a footman to fill their wine glasses, he assumed the seat at the table’s head. “Whether your story proves true,” he said in a tone his servants would not distinguish, “you are my guest and will be treated with the utmost respect.” The last part of his speech had been for the benefit of those in attendance. Aidan had meant what he had said. Despite his initial skepticism regarding the story placed before him, he had welcomed the idea of the lady’s company. It seemed so long since he had entertained another in his home. Only once in the months he and Susan had shared Lexington Arms had they hosted a house party. It had been at his insistence and had been a disaster. After the first evening, Susan had locked herself in her quarters, claiming the child she carried made her uncomfortable. After three days of strained silence, all the guests had made their excuses, never to return. The memory still haunted Aidan. He wondered if he had asked too much of his grieving wife. If his insensitivity had contributed to his wife’s suicide.
Miss Purefoy sipped her wine. “I am most appreciative, my Lord.”
Aidan motioned for the first course to be served. “Then, it is settled.” He placed the serviette upon his lap. “I thought we might spend our time learning more of each other.” He noted how the lady’s spine stiffened, but Aidan made no comment. Instead, he regaled Miss Purefoy with a tale of falling from the grand oak at the curve of the main drive. “I broke my arm in two places,” he concluded.
“And your mother?” the lady questioned.
“Was quite upset. She had thought I might have a crooked arm.” He stretched out both hands before him. “As you may observe, my dearest mother erred in her estimation of the surgeon father had summoned to attend me.”
Miss Purefoy smiled genuinely, and Aidan’s heart did a small flip in his chest. It was quite remarkable the effect the lady had on him. In London, he had accompanied the Marquis of Godown to a house of ill refute, but his evening had been interrupted by an attack on the marquis. Godown had apologized multiple times for curtailing Aidan’s first attempt at enjoying a woman’s “charms” after his injury, but, in reality, Aidan had thanked Providence for delivering him from the courtesan’s allure. He feared he might have made a cake of himself otherwise. It was good to feel the tingle of awareness again. He was healing, after all. “And what tale might you share, my Dear?” he said as casually as he could. With the Realm, he held the reputation of being the one who could easily ingratiate himself into the company of others. If they only knew how false all my amiable ways truly were, he thought.
As if she sought a tale he might believe and one in which she would not incriminate herself, the lady looked away. During his ablutions, Aidan had made the decision to take Pennington’s advice and to treat this situation with Miss Purefoy as an adventure. He would use his finely honed skills to pick apart the lady’s story. Meanwhile, he hoped for congenial company as he returned to country society. It was the best of both worlds for him.
“I have had few experiences as daring as your tree climbing escapade,” she admitted. “Young ladies are not permitted such freedoms. I suppose my most hoydenish ways come from my determination to ride as well as my brother and better than my sister.”
“Your brother Francis,” Aidan
Miss Purefoy blushed, and Aidan thought the color made her more beautiful. Decidedly piqued, she said softly for his ears only, “I assumed from your earlier remarks, Sir, you wished to have the truth of my parentage before you weighed judgment upon my role in this household.” He examined the lady’s defensive tone for the space of three heartbeats before his exasperation faded.
Aidan led her to a chair and seated her before continuing. Motioning a footman to fill their wine glasses, he assumed the seat at the table’s head. “Whether your story proves true,” he said in a tone his servants would not distinguish, “you are my guest and will be treated with the utmost respect.” The last part of his speech had been for the benefit of those in attendance. Aidan had meant what he had said. Despite his initial skepticism regarding the story placed before him, he had welcomed the idea of the lady’s company. It seemed so long since he had entertained another in his home. Only once in the months he and Susan had shared Lexington Arms had they hosted a house party. It had been at his insistence and had been a disaster. After the first evening, Susan had locked herself in her quarters, claiming the child she carried made her uncomfortable. After three days of strained silence, all the guests had made their excuses, never to return. The memory still haunted Aidan. He wondered if he had asked too much of his grieving wife. If his insensitivity had contributed to his wife’s suicide.
Miss Purefoy sipped her wine. “I am most appreciative, my Lord.”
Aidan motioned for the first course to be served. “Then, it is settled.” He placed the serviette upon his lap. “I thought we might spend our time learning more of each other.” He noted how the lady’s spine stiffened, but Aidan made no comment. Instead, he regaled Miss Purefoy with a tale of falling from the grand oak at the curve of the main drive. “I broke my arm in two places,” he concluded.
“And your mother?” the lady questioned.
“Was quite upset. She had thought I might have a crooked arm.” He stretched out both hands before him. “As you may observe, my dearest mother erred in her estimation of the surgeon father had summoned to attend me.”
Miss Purefoy smiled genuinely, and Aidan’s heart did a small flip in his chest. It was quite remarkable the effect the lady had on him. In London, he had accompanied the Marquis of Godown to a house of ill refute, but his evening had been interrupted by an attack on the marquis. Godown had apologized multiple times for curtailing Aidan’s first attempt at enjoying a woman’s “charms” after his injury, but, in reality, Aidan had thanked Providence for delivering him from the courtesan’s allure. He feared he might have made a cake of himself otherwise. It was good to feel the tingle of awareness again. He was healing, after all. “And what tale might you share, my Dear?” he said as casually as he could. With the Realm, he held the reputation of being the one who could easily ingratiate himself into the company of others. If they only knew how false all my amiable ways truly were, he thought.
As if she sought a tale he might believe and one in which she would not incriminate herself, the lady looked away. During his ablutions, Aidan had made the decision to take Pennington’s advice and to treat this situation with Miss Purefoy as an adventure. He would use his finely honed skills to pick apart the lady’s story. Meanwhile, he hoped for congenial company as he returned to country society. It was the best of both worlds for him.
“I have had few experiences as daring as your tree climbing escapade,” she admitted. “Young ladies are not permitted such freedoms. I suppose my most hoydenish ways come from my determination to ride as well as my brother and better than my sister.”
“Your brother Francis,” Aidan
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