Goodness, perhaps walking with him wasn’t such a good idea if he was only going to provide short answers.
“Do you enjoy being back?”
He glanced over at her, then shook his head. “To be honest, this is, um, well if I may.” He cleared his throat.
“I far prefer honesty to the often-false persona put forth by those in Society.”
“In truth,” he glanced about. “I find acclimating to English Society quite difficult.”
That simple sentence explained almost everything, or so she thought.
“The truth of the matter is…”
“Is…” Althea prompted when he said nothing further.
“I’m more comfortable with horses.” His cheeks colored slightly, and her heart warmed to him. Major Ambrose was unlike anyone she’d ever met, and it was quite delightful. Oh, how she had tired of her court and their attempts to impress. Major Ambrose was refreshing.
“In truth, most of the time I prefer horses as well,” she answered quite honestly.
“Do you ride? Do you have a horse in London?” he was almost anxious for her answer.
“I have a lovely mare at home, but we don’t bring her to London.”
The conversation was stilted, however it no longer bothered Althea. There was something charming in Major Ambrose’s awkwardness.
“Have you been in London since your return?”
“I’ve been here a month.”
“Where were you before?”
“With my older brother and his family at our ancestral home,” he answered.
“And you’d likely prefer to be there now,” she prompted.
“Yes.”
“Then why be in London at all?” she asked. Was he looking for a wife? Why else did a gentleman attend the Season when they didn’t wish to?
“My brother insisted,” he answered and shook his head.
So, he wasn’t looking for a wife. That was rather disappointing.
“My brother claimed the Cavalry had ruined me and that I need culture,” he confided.
To that, Althea chuckled. “Yes, well, London does have that. Was he specific in what you should do?”
Once again Major Ambrose said nothing, though he frowned as if pondering the question. “No, he was not Perhaps I should return and ask him.”
“You just wish to escape London,” she teased.
“Am I so obvious?” he whispered.
“I shan’t tell a soul,” Althea vowed with seriousness, but could not keep from smiling. “Or you could remain here and I will gift you with my vast knowledge of what London has to offer and what should be avoided.”
“Avoided?”
“Yes.” She linked her arm with his even though he’d not offered it. Goodness, she was becoming bold, but Althea didn’t care. She was coming to like Major Ambrose even though he might need a bit of encouragement to like her. “If you had planned on attending the Wentworth musicale this evening, I would recommend against it for no doubt you would have wished you’d brought along cotton to plug your ears.”
