It was as if an icy wall had gone up between them.If Michael hadn’t been there himself, he’d have doubted that their kiss had ever taken place.The prim and proper Lady Hannah was back, with no glimpse of the woman who had struck down her last suitor with a candlestick.
Graf von Reischor cleared his throat to interrupt them.“Lieutenant Thorpe has agreed to accompany me to Lohenberg, conducting business on behalf of the British Army.”
“I am glad to hear that you have been tasked with something so important.”Although she had already known of his orders, he suspected Lady Hannah was itching to ask more questions.Nonetheless, he didn’t want her to know anything about the Graf’s theory with regard to his heritage.
“When did your father make the decision about this journey?”he inquired, directing the conversation back to her.
“A few days ago.”Hannah twisted at one of her gloves, and the conversation fell flat between them.
Exile was a better word for it.The Princess would be locked away in a tower, away from those who might scorn her.
“Forgive me,” Graf von Reischor excused himself.“I must speak with the Captain about our cabin arrangements.I shall return shortly.”He gestured for one of Hannah’s maids to remain nearby, as a chaperone.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Michael lowered his voice.“Why would your father choose Von Reischor for an escort?Has he lost his wits?”
Hannah seemed taken aback, but a moment later, she raised her chin.“Papa wants me to wed a foreign count or duke, and Graf von Reischor has many acquaintances.”
That didn’t surprise him at all.Lady Hannah was the sort of woman who belonged among high society, her blue blood too good for anything less.If the London suitors wouldn’t have her, certainly her father’s money would pave the way for a foreign wedding.
“So long as he has the proper title and enough money, not much else matters, does it?”The words came out before he could stop them.He felt like a bastard for voicing them.
But proper to a fault, Hannah didn’t let any hurt feelings show.“I am not allowed to marry a man who does not possess the means to take care of a family.”
“Your father wouldn’t let you wed a merchant, sweet.Not even if he possessed a million pounds.”Men like the marquess were only interested in bettering the family name.“The higher the title, the more likely you are to gain his permission.”
“There are titled gentlemen who are good men,” she pointed out.“Not all of them are like Belgrave.Many would value a virtuous woman who wants to provide a comfortable home for him.”
“Like you?”
She turned crimson, and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.None of this had been her fault.He ought to reassure her that nothing had changed, that she was still the same woman as before.But that was a lie.She would never be the same, not with a scandal shadowing her.
Then, too, he hadn’t behaved with honorable intentions, either.He’d taken full advantage of Hannah’s innocence, claiming stolen embraces and touching her in a way that was forbidden.
Right now, she was perfectly composed, every button fastened, every hair in its proper place.She looked nothing like the woman who had clung to him in the shed, kissing him as though time were running out.
The high-collared pelisse hid her neck, and he asked, “Did you receive your necklace back?”
“I did.You could have returned it yourself.”There was a hint of scolding in her tone.
“I thought it best not to see you again.”His voice came out rougher than he’d intended.
The wind buffeted Hannah’s bonnet, and she kept her gaze fastened upon a seagull circling the boat.Her green eyes were almost gray this morning, mirroring the darkness of the water.
“You’re right, of course.”She drew the edges of her pelisse tighter against her body.“We’ve caused enough scandal.It’s better for us to stay away from one another.”
She said it so firmly, he wondered who she was trying to convince.Her face held a lonely cast to it, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.She watched the shoreline, as though she didn’t know when she would see England again.And from the way Hannah was glancing over her shoulder, he suspected she didn’t want to keep his company any longer.
Sailors began releasing the ropes from the dock.The steam engines rumbled as they began to take the vessel away from its landing and down the river.
Michael wanted to offer her words of comfort, but he suspected it would only make her feel worse about her exile.He rested his wrists on the side of the boat, staring out at the water.Waiting for her to leave.
But long moments passed, and she stood a short distance away, resting her own gloved hands upon the wood.He ventured a glance at her, and she kept her eyes averted.Her lips were pressed together, her cheeks pale from the cool sea air.He remembered just what her mouth tasted like, as sweet as a succulent berry.
“Why are you watching me?”she whispered.Her hands came together, and she rubbed her palms.
He didn’t tear his gaze away.Instead, he looked his fill, memorizing her green eyes and flushed cheeks, down to the prim-and-proper body he wanted to touch.
“Don’t you want to retire to your cabin?”he prompted.
