“You are damned fortunate.”
“I am.”
“And, of course, Miss Charnock isunsuitablefor a wife for you—”
Roman held up a hand to stop him, a new thought striking him. “How rich is she?”
“She’s a ripe plum. Charnock has no other children. The houses, the business interests, they will all go to her husband.”
Roman pictured Leonie as she’d been when he had first seen her all those years ago—coltish, tawny golden, full of life. But there had been something sensual about her as well. Even at seventeen, she made a man think of rumpled sheets and morning romps. Her dark eyes seemed to have more knowledge than they should. The pout to her full lips begged to be kissed away... and her breasts... God, her breasts. It was all a man could do to not stare at them.
And because of all her “attributes,” he’d been the fool to fall on his own sword.
“What is holding her back from landing a husband?” He could think of one very strong reason, but considering the lengths her parents had taken to protect her, it would be ironic if all of Fashionable Society knew.
“She’s different.”
“What does that mean?”
“She has an exotic look to her.”
Yes, Leonie didn’t look like the other English roses.
“Her eyes are so brown, almost to being black,” Thaddeus said.
Roman knew they weren’t black but had flecks of gold in them.
“And there is a refinement about her,” Thaddeus continued. “An air of elegance.”
Aye, that was true. But what did Thaddeus mean? “Is that a bad thing?”
“Oh, no, except her father doesn’t look a thing like her. He is a blustery sort and the mother is all yellow haired and creamy skin. Charnock dotes on his daughter—or at least claims he does. Her mother is a different story. Apparently, she and her husband are not close and she is not always... what to say?”
“Discreet?”
“That is the word. There are rumors she was that way in India.”
The rumors were true. Mrs. Charnock had loved to prey on the young officers, especially when they first arrived in Calcutta. She’d chased Roman, but once he’d met the daughter, he had not been interested in the mother’s games... even though Leonie had still been in the schoolroom, but allowed to attend the dances held amongst what passed for civilized society in the British colony.
“You are suggesting there are those who do not believe Charnock is Leonie’s father?” No one had believed it in Calcutta either.
Thaddeus appeared almost relieved to confess. “Yes. There are whispers. I don’t give them countenance. Then there is talk of a scandal. I heard a duel was fought over her—” Thaddeus broke off and then said as if putting pieces of information together, “You wouldn’t know about that, would you?”
Oh, yes, the duel.
“I shot a fellow lieutenant over Leonie Charnock.” The words were bitter in his mouth.
“You dueled, Roman? I thought you had more sense.”
“Apparently not.”
There was a moment of silence.
Thaddeus uncorked the whisky decanter and poured himself another drink. This time, Roman accepted one.
“Miss Charnock almost married a duke last year,” his godfather said. “Baynton apparently had no qualms about her heritage or the rumors. However, the match fell through.”
Roman stared down into the amber liquid in his glass. He was disturbed that the thought of Leonie marrying another man bothered him. “What happened?”
