“Are you certain?”
“Quite.”
This comment resulted in a long moment of silence. Eventually, he reached inside his satchel and retrieved the newspaper he’d purchased at the inn before their departure. An hour passed while the carriage rolled onward. Louise occasionally glanced across at Lord Alistair, whose expression appeared to be set in stone as he flipped from page to page and studied the text. Bored with watching the scenery, she considered reading the book she’d brought with her.
Instead, she found herself saying, “The news must be serious, judging from your expression.”
He turned his attention toward her, straightened himself, and lowered the paper. “Important, is more like it,” he said, leaning back in his seat.
“Would you care to discuss it?” she asked. Perhaps if they could focus on whatever it was he’d been reading, she’d be able to forget the feelings he’d stirred up inside her or how attractive she actually found him. Such things could only lead to ruin and a fate far worse than the loneliness awaiting her at Whitehaven.
He blinked. The edge of his mouth twitched, and then his eyes narrowed on her with intent. “Certainly. But only if you are willing to tell me why you’ve chosen to seek employment.”
Her breath caught. “You wish to blackmail me?”
“Not at all. But my interest in this newspaper is no less personal than your desire to become a governess, so what I propose is an exchange.”
It sounded fair and reasonable. “Very well,” she said, denying the fear she had of letting him in, of sharing her innermost thoughts, and of being vulnerable. “Shall I go first or will you?”
* * *
Seeing anxiety mark her features, Alistair felt compelled to earn her trust and put her at ease. “Allow me,” he said. He was actually glad she’d asked him to open up, for it would allow him to focus on something besides the knowledge that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. Up until an hour ago, he hadn’t been certain. Her discreet glances and interest in him could have been passed off as nothing more than normal curiosity. But then he’d watched her pupils dilate while her lips parted. He’d heard her tremulous inhalations of breath and seen the rosy hue sweeping across her face. And he’d instinctively known their desire was mutual.
Fearing he might act rashly in spite of his assurances to the contrary, he’d grabbed his newspaper and tried to block her out of his mind, which had been damnably hard to do since she was right there on the opposite bench. The print he’d tried to read had blurred before his eyes, and no matter how many times he attempted to focus, the only thing he could see was her, parting her lips, welcoming his advances, and giving him leave to do things no respectable gentlewoman would allow.
“My lord?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you all right?”
Collecting himself, he nodded, even though he wasn’t the least bit all right. His pulse was racing, his blood was ablaze, and his lungs were struggling to take air in and push it back out. Discomfort did not begin to describe the predicament he was presently in, and crossing his legs did little to help. So he forced himself to speak in the hope that doing so would somehow calm his ardor. “I need to find a new source of income, so I’m looking for possible investment opportunities.”
“Are you having financial trouble?” Stunned by her frankness, he stared at her, to which she responded with a hasty apology. “I should not have asked that. How rude of me.”
“Well…” In for a penny, in for a pound. “I wouldn’t exactly call it trouble. It’s more of a snag really.”
Her brow creased with distinct curiosity. “How so?”
Sighing, he passed his hand over his face before saying, “My brother has been supplying me with a yearly stipend since I reached my majority twelve years ago. He is now threatening to stop doing so unless I marry Lady Channing’s sister-in-law, Lady Gwendolyn.”
Miss Potter’s eyes widened. “Really?” When he nodded, she knit her brow before saying, “Well, I suppose it’s not too unreasonable of him to make such a request.”
“I know it isn’t, especially since I’m more than his brother. I’m also his heir.”
“What?”
“Langley has no sons and probably never will. He’s pinning his hope for the title’s succession on me, though I could do without him selecting my bride. Truth is, I’ve been relying on his support for far too long.” When her frown deepened, he felt compelled to say, “I haven’t been completely idle. There are tenants at my country estate who bring in a yearly income, but it’s not much. My brother’s generosity has enabled me to maintain the standard of living to which I have always been accustomed, but perhaps… Perhaps I need to consider cutting some costs and living more frugally. In any case, a good investment would be helpful, hence my interest in the newspaper.”
He hadn’t meant to say quite that much. It revealed a part of himself he hadn’t been proud of lately. But rather than pass judgment, she said, “Perhaps I can help. If you hand me one of the sections, I’ll go through it. Maybe I’ll notice something you missed.”
Appreciating the offer, he thanked her.
“But first,” she said, averting her gaze, “I need to be as honest with you as you’ve been with me.” He steeled himself for what she would say, then felt his heart twist when she quietly murmured, “My sisters and I are barely scraping by. I sought to become a governess so I can help them financially, so we don’t lose our home, and so my youngest sister, Eve, might have the Season Josephine and I were denied.”
Knowing this was a touchy subject for her, he tried to think of a way to ask the questions her comment evoked. There wasn’t really a delicate way in which to do so, however, so he softened his tone and said, “I must have misunderstood you earlier. I assumed you had ties to the aristocracy, but—”
“My great-grandfather was the Earl of Priorsbridge,” she said. “My grandfather was his third son. He went into law and opened a firm that my father inherited upon his death. Unfortunately, Papa was not as skilled a barrister as Grandpapa, but at least he made an effort until Mama passed away. Her death changed everything. Papa started drinking; he neglected his clients, lost a lot of cases, and was finally forced to give up the business. We were forced to move to a more affordable part of town. Whatever money was set aside for my sisters and me was spent. So were the rest of Papa’s savings.” She struggled to draw breath, then averted her gaze and took a moment to compose herself. “All we have left now is the townhouse, and while we know we could sell it and move into something even cheaper, we’re hoping to do what we can to avoid such an outcome.”
