Never Trust a Rake

‘But he did not make those preparations for you without a reminder.’

She lifted her chin. ‘I make no complaint. And if I do not, I’m sure you have no reason to make it sound as though I have been neglected, or overlooked in any way.’

‘But your education has been sadly neglected,’ he said somewhat irritably. ‘It sounds as though your childhood ceased the moment your mother died. Instead of learning how to be a young lady, you became a household drudge. I have heard you say that your younger brothers are at school, while your older ones have their own professions, I take it? But who has made sure that you have been educated as you should have been? Good God, they have gone out into the world so they must know that you are decidedly lacking in accomplishments.’

So, he thought her lacking in accomplishments, did he?

‘It was not like that.’

‘It was exactly like that. But at least now I can see exactly why you are so determined not to turn your back upon your socially inferior aunt. For the first time in your life, somebody has lavished care and affection upon you, instead of taking you utterly for granted.’

‘That is a rather harsh assessment of my past,’ she said, shaken. And it wasn’t true! Her father had immediately put aside his own needs so that she could come to town and enjoy herself. And as soon as he’d heard about it, Hubert had done what he could, too, though he was so far away.

The fact that Julia Twining’s friendship could be described as tepid, at best, was absolutely not Hubert’s fault. Nor was it his fault that Richard had evidently thought he’d done his duty by coming to inspect the relatives she was staying with, and, once he’d decided they were perfectly respectable, returned to his own habitual pleasures without a backward glance.

‘Do you have any idea how remarkable you are?’

‘What?’ She glanced up at him irritably. Whenever she felt as though there was something about her that he liked—such as her hair, for instance—he robbed her of all the pleasure she might have had in hearing it by immediately launching into a series of criticisms. This time they were of her upbringing. Which was what had resulted in her being so singularly lacking in accomplishments.

‘I am not in the least bit remarkable,’ she snapped. Had he not just said so?

‘Oh, but you are. In fact, I would go so far as to say you are a treasure. Not many women would have cared for their family so uncomplainingly, nor come out of a youth like yours without getting twisted under the burden of accumulated resentment.’

‘Resentment? What do you mean? I have nothing to feel resentful about.’

He thought she was a treasure?

He smiled ruefully. ‘There are women who fancy they have the right to feel resentful about their lot in life, with far less reason.’

‘Well then, they must be very silly. Better to count your blessings than fancying yourself ill used all the time.’ He thought she was a treasure. Her nose might be too big and she was lacking in feminine accomplishments, but not only did he think her hair glorious, but now he was saying there were aspects to her personality he admired, too.

‘And I have plenty of blessings to count,’ she continued, in exactly that frame of mind. ‘I am healthy, have always been comfortably circumstanced and have had far more freedom than many other young ladies, from what I have observed since I came to town.’

Funny, but as she said it, the feeling of being weighed down, which she’d had ever since the night of Miss Twining’s ball, finally slid from her shoulders like a cloak untied after coming indoors out of the rain. She really had been enjoying her stay in town, though it was in an entirely different way from what she’d expected. And much of it, now, was centred on this man.

She stole a glance at him, then found she could look her fill, since he was gazing across the room with an air of abstraction.

‘How I wish,’ he said, coming back to himself abruptly, ‘that my own sisters would take a leaf out of your book. As girls they were forever complaining to me about one thing or another and now I dare say they treat their husbands to the same litany of imaginary woes.’

‘You have married sisters?’