Temperance looked at Whitfield, willing herself not to break in the face of this unwarranted harsh criticism.
“I think I understand you very well, Sir Robert. If you will excuse us.”
She said it clearly, and began to continue walking. But he stopped her again.
“I am prepared to make you an offer.”
She turned around to look at him.
“Despite the considerable social cost. I think you are sensible enough to understand that an offer like mine, in your circumstances, is not something to be dismissed. You ought tomarry me and that might be the best decision that you can make.”
“If you came here to insult me, sir, then you have wasted your time.”
“Not at all,” he said. “In fact, I came to offer honesty. Once the current gentlemen calling on you lose their taste for novelty, you may find yourself without options.”
Alethea took a step forward.
“That is enough.”
But he was not finished.
“I am merely saying,” he went on, “that a woman in your position cannot afford to be proud. You would do well to accept an offer while anyone is willing to make one.”
She had endured whispers, but this felt even worse. Now people were emboldened to say such things to her face, and it was too much to bear.
She stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. But someone else seemed to have beat her to the scene.
“Whitfield.”
CHAPTER 20
“She will not need to concern herself with anything you think.”
The voice came from behind her, and it was Harper’s voice. She had seen him displeased before but she had never seen him like this. His face was hard, his jaw set with such force that even from several paces away she could see the strain in it, and there was a dangerous stillness in the way he moved.
It was almost as though he was different man entirely, and the only word she could use to describe him was…
Menacing.
The gentleman who had been speaking to her seemed to sense the change immediately.
The smug ease that had colored his expression only moments before began to fade as Harper approached, though he tried to mask it behind an awkward smile.
“Your Grace,” the man said with a nervous laugh, “I did not realize…”
Harper stopped at her side, placing himself so deliberately between her and the gentleman that the movement could not be mistaken for anything polite. His eyes remained fixed on the man before him.
“I would like to know,” Harper said, “what possessed you to believe that speaking to Miss Hosmer in such a manner was acceptable.”
The gentleman shifted awkwardly, trying to recover some measure of confidence.
“I assure you, this is a misunderstanding. We were merely having a frank conversation.”
Harper’s expression did not soften.
“A frank conversation?” The words were repeated with such cold contempt that the gentleman’s face flushed.
“Yes,” Whitfield said weakly. “No harm was intended.”
