A Most Unsuitable Match. Julia Justiss
she felt a little envious, that a man could go anywhere in the world and do anything he wanted. While she had to watch every word she said and every action she took.
His reputation as an adventurer might make him unsuitable husband material for her—but it certainly enhanced his fascination.
‘People love to gossip about the strange and foreign.’
Aunt Gussie chuckled. ‘When they aren’t gossiping about the present and familiar! In any event, I doubt he’s lived as a saint—not a man adventurous enough to leave hearth and kin at such an early age with scarcely a penny to his name and make his way in a continent halfway around the world.’
What would it be like to have such adventures? Pru wondered. To boldly go wherever the whim took you, pit your wits and courage against whatever obstacles you encountered?
Something she would never discover, she thought wistfully. She’d count herself fortunate to land a respectable husband and settle in a quiet, conventional village.
Suppressing the envy as she did every other disturbing emotion, she said, ‘With his birth and that handsome countenance, I doubt it would take him long to charm some susceptible lady of fortune into marrying him. Charming his aunt, I’m not so sure.’
‘I’m sure of neither, despite that handsome face. He’d do better to cozen up to a rich widow. Although, with his lineage, he’d be considered a good catch by most society families, the highest sticklers might not favour having a man with an adventurer’s reputation marry their daughter.’ Her aunt gave her a look. ‘A young lady of...fragile reputation should never let an adventurer approach her at all.’
‘You needn’t preach, Aunt Gussie. I understand my limitations quite well.’ Even if she had to squelch a ridiculous little pang of loss at the idea of never speaking again to the intriguing Lieutenant Trethwell. Never being able to coax him to tell her about his adventures in lands she and Temper had only read about in travel journals and memoirs—what a Hindustani village really looked like, what it was like to hunt a tiger, what sort of jewels a maharani wore.
Even if her fortune interested him, she couldn’t redeem her reputation by marrying a man almost as infamous as she was. Those few heated glances, that unexpected rush of attraction, were all she’d ever have of him.
What they wanted for their futures was completely different.
She tried to picture him in civilian dress in some small country manor, talking about crops and dandling a baby on his knee, and laughed out loud.
Impossible!
As was any foolish desire for more of his company. She needed to keep her mind fixed on her goal: to marry a man with a reputation impeccable enough to rehabilitate her own, live with him and raise their children in a quiet village, creating a warm, happy family far away from the gossip and casual cruelty of society. She should lose no time scouring Bath for such a man—and then charming him into marrying her.
Feeling somehow dispirited, despite that firm conviction, she said, ‘Shall we return to the Circus, Aunt Gussie?’
‘Perhaps we shall. I am feeling a bit weary after all our walking.’
But as she took her aunt’s arm to lead her to reclaim their cloaks, Lady Stoneway suddenly halted. ‘Not quite yet, my dear! There’s someone over there I should very much like you to meet.’
The tone of her aunt’s voice could only mean the ‘someone’ was an eligible young man. A spurt of excitement pulling her from her melancholy, hoping the brisk walk in the gardens that had put roses in her cheeks hadn’t disordered her curls too much, Pru clutched her aunt’s arm more tightly and allowed herself to be led to the opposite side of the floor.
‘Lady Wentworth, Mrs Dalwoody! How nice to see you both!’
The two ladies turned...their movement then copied by the tall man who stood beside them and Pru caught her breath.
She needed no introduction to know that this swoon-worthy gentleman was as wealthy and nobly born as he was handsome. He wore his exquisitely tailored clothing with the unconscious sense of superiority found only in those with old money and important connections.
Or at least, he appeared wealthy. The distinguished family name, she could count on. The two society matrons her aunt had just called out would never have allowed a nouveau-riche Cit with social aspirations in their midst. And no man of lesser breeding would emanate such an aura of self-confidence, as if both accustomed to and taking for granted the notice he attracted.
For in truth, she realised, hers weren’t the only eyes focused on him. He was the object of the interested gaze of every female in the vicinity—and most of the gentlemen.
‘Lady Stoneway, I’d heard you were visiting Bath,’ Lady Wentworth said warmly, giving her aunt—a friend of long-standing, Pru knew—a hug. ‘With your charming niece, too!’
‘Augusta, how good to see you again,’ Mrs Dalwoody said. ‘And, my dear, how lovely you’ve grown! Already budding fair to become a Beauty last time I met you, though I’m sure you don’t remember. You couldn’t have been more than fourteen, that summer I visited dear Augusta at Chemberton Park.’
With an amused smile, the young man cleared his throat. ‘Please, ladies, in your enthusiasm for greeting one another, you’ve quite left me out! Won’t you introduce me to these charming newcomers?’
‘How impolite of me!’ Lady Wentworth exclaimed. ‘Lady Stoneway, Miss Lattimar, may I present Lord Halden Fitzroy-Price, youngest son of my good friend, the Duchess of Maidstone? Newly come down from university, and waiting to be appointed to an ecclesiastical post!’
He made them a bow as impeccably tailored as his coat—which was cut in the latest style, tightly nipped in at the waist with flaring tails. ‘Ladies, honoured to make your acquaintance.’
The glance he gave them was politely brief—until, to Pru’s gratification, it returned to linger on her. ‘Miss Lattimar, Mrs Dalwoody is quite right. You are an Incomparable! Why have I not encountered you in London? I believe my friends must have been deliberately keeping you from me, to hoard this treasure for themselves!’
Pru knew her cheeks must be pinking at his gallantry, but she replied calmly, ‘You must not think so slightingly of your friends, Lord Halden. I’ve not yet been presented in London.’
‘Ah, that explains it, for I should never have forgotten so enchanting a face. Won’t you stroll with me, so we might repair Fortune’s lapse?’
Still a little dazed by his magnificence, at her aunt’s encouraging nod, Pru placed her hand on his sleeve. ‘You are newly come from university, you said. Which one?’
‘Cambridge. I’m not the most downy of scholars,’ he acknowledged with a deprecating glance designed to be disarming, ‘but I did well enough that, as Lady Wentworth said, my cousin, the Earl of Riding, has promised me one of the livings in his gift.’
‘Younger sons must make their own way,’ she acknowledged, firmly yanking her thoughts away from another more scandalous and all-too-attractive younger son who’d been making his own way in the world. ‘You had no taste for the army, I take it.’
He grimaced. ‘With the wars ended, there’d be no way to distinguish oneself by bravery, and who would want to be posted in some colonial backwater, enduring the heat of India, or the storms and humidity of the Indies? No, I fear I’m just a solid Englishman, perfectly content to never leave these shores.’
She curbed the impulse to reply that she would love to explore beyond England’s shores. And squelched the whisper of scepticism that said he was telling her what he thought she’d prefer to hear.
Why wouldn’t he? He’d probably been raised from his nurse’s knee to make himself agreeable in company.
Instead, she smiled and said, ‘Why would a true Englishman want to be anywhere else?’
‘My