Chin high, eyes determined, with her hair pinned atop her head like a crown, Miss Allison Meadowbrook possessed the bearing of a queen—that was why.
Not to mention he was the first in his line who’d been forced to sell off every piece of property he owned that was unentailed. He ought to have paid more attention to his father’s affairs while the fiend had been alive. He should have realized the man was putting their legacy in jeopardy.
Hunt rubbed his chest to soothe the increasingly familiar burning sensation.
The sale of Longbow Castle had hit him sentimentally, but the sale of the London townhouse on Bedford Square affected his life on a practical level.
“Do you spend most of your time here?” Her question surprised him.
She might as well have been reading his mind. And yet she still hadn’t moved to continue their descent. With her hands hanging loosely at her side, she seemed utterly confident of who she was.
“I appreciate the scenery, the air, all of this…” He gestured around them. “But I feel most at home in London.”
This had her turning to face him. “You fancy society then?”
From what her father disclosed about her, she wasn’t the sort of young woman who’d want to hear about his pursuits—the subjects that, until his current predicament came along, had taken up most of his day-to-day affairs.
The Kings Society for the Advancement of Ingenuity wasn’t the sort of thing women enjoyed discussing.
“Not exactly.” Hunt shifted. “Are you ready to continue down?”
But she had turned to face him fully. “Are you a gambler? Is that why you’re in such dire straits?”
Those who knew he suffered financial difficulties all assumed it was due to his father’s incessant gambling. And as noxious as that seemed, it was far better than the truth. God help him; he could never allow that to get out. Not to this woman—not to anyone.
Rather than provide her with an answer, he turned to continue down the path.
Unfortunately, in his haste to get away from her questions about the money, he failed to watch where he was walking. And when Hunt landed his foot on what ought to have been a solid step, the rock shifted and shot out from beneath him.
Twisting to catch his balance but with nothing to grasp, Hunt was, in fact, lucky not to fall farther than he did.
Although it hadn’t been simple luck. No, the woman he’d set out to impress that morning had caught hold of his jacket from behind.
Had he fallen in the other direction, along with the smattering of boulders and pebbles that joined the initial loose treacherous stone, he could have taken her with him.
The realization had him berating himself.
Unable to summon an apology, excuse, or even any blasphemous curses, he sat where he’d fallen, mortified at his lack of foresight and surefootedness.
“Are you all right?” She’d dropped to her haunches beside him.
“I’m fine.” Hunt barely kept himself from grumbling. He’d not only suffered a wound to his pride, but he’d also twisted his ankle. Blast and damn. He’d felt something rip inside.
He stared at his foot, feeling betrayed by his appendage at the same time unspeakable curses raced through his mind. It seemed to signify his life this year. He’d known his father had been up to no-good and yet Hunt had ignored him, gone about his business, and done nothing to halt his father’s villainous behavior.
Hunt swiped a hand across his face. Looking down the path now, the erosion was quite apparent. Gregory had warned him. Hunt had simply allowed himself to be too distracted.
Distracted by this woman.
More precisely, he was distracted by inclinations he’d not expected to have for this woman.
All that aside, he couldn’t sit on the side of this cliff, bemoaning his circumstances forever.
And yet, when she reached down to where his leg rested at an awkward angle, he strained away from her.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled a second time, unable to keep the edge of disgust out of his voice.
What the hell was wrong with him?
