“You didn’t have to,” she said. “You chose to. I choose not to.”
“But why? I am honestly curious as to where a governess goes to meet a man, even a dastardly bastard of a man, and get engaged.”
“I see. Your question is to satisfy your idle curiosity.”
He couldn’t tell her it was nothing of the sort without alarming her, but it wasn’t idle at all. Instead, it was searing, meaningful, determined curiosity.Where had she been when she’d spied Mr. Malcolm? What had drawn her to him if he was such a wretch?
Mostly, he wondered how he could feel jealous of a dead man, especially one whom she seemed to despise.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he finally conceded in the long hesitation. “It is only my wish to know you better, and what happened in the past has a bearing on who you are now, whether we will it or not.”
She took in a deep breath. “Very well. We met at a dance, just like where those of you in the wealthiest classes meet. He saw me first, as I recall. He asked for the honor of a dance. He....” She hesitated, then lifted her chin slightly and looked Adam in the eyes.
“He distracted me with pretty words and flummery. I was naïve but didn’t realize it. I thought I knew as much as any worldly woman. I was wrong.”
The topic had made her morose, but he had successfully started her talking now, so he continued with another question.
“You were at a public dance, one for which you bought a ticket, I assume.” He didn’t think either the deceased Mr. Malcolm nor the female seated before him could have been at a private ball attended only by the wealthy or the powerful. He tried to imagine the throng of store clerks and shopgirls dressed in their Sunday best. Alice would stand out with her beauty, her learning, and the cultured manner she had.
“After dancing together, you decided to allow his courtship. Is that correct?” he asked.
She merely frowned, and he sensed there was more to the story she would not disclose. At least, not then and there.
“And did your parents approve? Where are they now? Why didn’t you stay in London after you became widowed?”
“Those are many questions, my lord. How did you know I met my husband in London?”
“Lady Beasley told me where you came from before you arrived in Bath. I assumed if you’d come from there, then you might have lived there, too.”
“You are correct. I did. My parents left for the Continent soon after my husband died. As to your last question, I needed to earn a living, so I came here to Bath for a fresh start.”
“Because ofNorthanger Abbey?”
“Yes. It had captured my imagination early in my life, so why not here?”
“Many women would have thrown themselves upon the mercy of Her Majesty’s government. We have programs for destitute widows.”
She made a face at the words he’d chosen. “That sounds like giving up,” she said, her voice soft. “The way ladies of your class often seem to do — stay home and do nothing, earn nothing, and be nothing.”
The women he knew, at least in his family, lived full lives with a husband and children to look after, charities to run or assist, and personal interests of their own, be it art, music, gardening, or science. Thus, he thought she was being a little harsh on an entire class of people she actually knew nothing about, only surmising.
On the other hand, for her own life, she was pragmatic and industrious — both admirable traits. He supposed if he persisted and asked more about her courtship and marriage, it would intruth be mere curiosity, unworthy of him despite how much he wished to know.
Besides, the future was what was important, even if for them, it could only last until the autumn.
“You’re smiling broadly, my lord. Is it the quality of the Sally Lunns?”
“Naturally,” he said. “What else could make this the best bun of my entire life?”
Her cheeks became rosy again, and Adam’s heart squeezed. She was not immune to him. And he was captivated by her. After the few times he’d been in her company, with their interesting discussions and capped by the most titillating kisses, he had decided he would pursue her and do so with bold keenness, as he had that day.
Pushing aside his previous inclination to leave her alone,noblesse obligeand all that nonsense, he gave in to his more ignoble instincts only because she seemed as affected by him as he was with her.
“Are you sometimes lonely, Mrs. Malcolm?”
“What an impertinent question!” But she hadn’t raised her voice to cause a scene, so he continued.
“I only ask because we get along well and share a similar outlook upon many things, indicating our compatibility. Also, if I am not mistaken, in all frankness which I think you’ll appreciate, we are attracted to one another in the physical sense.”
