Page 47 of The Gentlewoman Companion

He wanted nothing more. When Miss Thorpe slipped her hand beneath the elbow of his offered arm, his heart slowed. His breath eased. James chose the most beautiful and obscure of the half-dozen paths, passing the Rose Garden and the Cascade toward Halo Pond. Accustomed to Miss Thorpe’s prattle, her silence felt awkward.

“Have you finished The Canterbury Tales?” he asked.

“Is it decent to discuss so bawdy a fiction?” She giggled but not in a way that betrayed discomfort. “I am surprised but not displeased to have read an uncensored edition. In the end, it is, like many works of that time, a moral tale.”

“True, but far more worldly than others of its time.”

“But don’t you think that very characteristic makes a compelling story? It’s more complex than, say, The Book of the Knight of the Tower.”

“An interesting comparison.” The book to which she referred was little more than a conduct manual designed to warn young women against vice, using shame and the threat of social ruin to underscore the dangers of worldliness. “Mr. Chaucer was far more entertaining as well.”

Her free hand found a ribbon at her waist which she twisted around her finger. Nerves? She opened her mouth. Pinched her lips. “It was kind of you to bring me into the group at the card party and to partner with me at the ball. You’ve been thoughtful, though I am only your mother’s companion. Thank you.”

“Only a companion? Before you came, I’d find my mother in the parlor, candles out, fire gone, windows covered, staring at the wall.”

“Much like you’ve been doing?”

She cut to the point.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

Could he answer? Should he? Before finding Sarah’s letter, whenever he had been in a quandary, he had found answers by imagining how his father would have advised him. A foolish exercise. Had James ever believed he could guess what his father might say or do? Within the papers his father had left behind and in what the other peers expected him to support, he’d seen evidence that he and his father did not share the same opinions. He was on his own—and had always been. He needed to discuss his worries with someone. And, he realized, he wanted to tell her; she had proven herself a friend.

Once again, the surprising image of wrapping her in his arms popped into his head. He would banish that thought. His mother was right. Considering her recent experiences, Miss Thorpe was too vulnerable to pursue romantically, and his own affairs were a tangle. He thrust the idea into the recess of his mind.

“I don’t wish to burden you,” he said.

“If you don’t air it, it will fester.”

“My mother says that.”

“And you’ve been avoiding your mother. Whatever is bothering you, it doesn’t seem like something she can help you with. You have been very kind to me, and I wish to show my gratitude.”

“You needn’t listen out of obligation.”

“Oh! I did not mean that. Only that you are Earl of Halverton. I am Louisa Thorpe, an improbable choice for your confidence. But we share an easy companionship, my lord, so I humbly offer my ear.”

“Where was all this humility when we were racing?” He smiled down at her.

“There is no room for meekness when competition calls. But I am sincere. I do not know why, but I think you have something to say. I shall not betray your confidence.”

He believed her, though he still found it painful to recount his discoveries.

“I…found a letter.” There. He’d begun.

“A letter?”

“From a woman in London who claims to have borne my father’s child.”

“Oh.” Her soft voice portrayed a stunning amount of compassion.

“I am sickened.” His mouth went dry, and he suddenly felt raw, unable to form the words. She looked up at him, her eyes soft but focused, calm but reassuring. Her arm, still looped through his, steadied him. He could confide in her. “The man after whom I always patterned my life may not have been worthy of my adoration. He spoke of fidelity in marriage. I believed he and my mother loved each other, but I’ve learned that over the past many years, they saw little of one another.”

“Poor, dear Lady Halverton. Does she know?”

“I do not believe so.”

She placed her free hand on his arm. “And you. It must be a terribly painful discovery. What will you do?”