She immediately gripped the envelope and shoved it deeper into the bag.
“Please call me Miss Westmont. I try not to rest on ceremony.”
Was the lady completely free of pretense, or just terribly naive?
“The whole of the aristocracy rests on ceremony, does it not?”
She blinked and her very lovely mouth pinched. James realized he’d offended her. Once again, he’d been a cad. Whatever his own misgivings aboutnoblemen like his uncle, she didn’t deserve his bitterness.
“My family tries not to be so formal in private.”
“Then I suspect I’d like them a great deal.”
A wistful smile tipped the edge of her mouth. “Everyone likes my father, though he’s perhaps the most formal of all of us.” She seemed to ponder that a moment. “Diplomacy is very formal, isn’t it?”
“May I ask your father’s name?”
“Must you?” The question seemed to distress her much more than he’d intended.
“You wish to keep your secrets too?”
“I don’t truly have any secrets,” she said immediately and with an unpretentious honesty he’d begun to doubt anyone was capable of anymore.
“Still, I would prefer he did not know I needed to strike a man in the face not an hour after he dropped me at the station.” She drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “He’d expressed concerns about the dangers of taking this trip alone, and I reassured him. But perhaps he was right. Traveling on my own may have been folly.”
“You’ll be safe for the rest of the journey, Miss Westmont. I promise you that,” he told her, holding her gaze and wanting her to believe him. Wanting her trust.
They had a handful of hours to go before they reached Edinburgh, and he’d ensure Lucy Westmont’s safety for the remainder of the trip.
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,Mr. Pembroke. So far, nothing about this trip has gone as I intended.”
He appreciated her wariness. She might look like some summery goddess with her spun-gold hair, tip-turned nose, and rosebud lips, but the lady was no fool.
“Still, I will do my best not to let any harm come to you.”
“I see.” She cradled her sore hand, then stretched out her fingers as if testing for pain. “Are you my self-appointed protector now?” There was a bit of sharpness in her tone. And he realized that they weren’t so different in their determination not to trust easily.
“Think of it as recompense for the moment we met. I was rather—”
“Rude?”
“Impatient.”
“More like dictatorial.”
“You seemed overwrought.”
“I wasn’t until you spilled my books onto the ground.”
“See,” he teased. “You’re overwrought now.”
She seamed her lips into a tense line and shot him a challenging look. “I have a sixteen-year-old brother who teases me as often as he can, Mr. Pembroke—”
“James.”
“—I assure you. I’m not easily provoked.”
“I do love a challenge.”
