Read Online Lord Romney's Exquisite Widow by Jenni James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jenni James
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lived and loved."
Her gaze snapped to his on the word "loved," and he hastened to explain. "I meant you, of course. You loved."
Suddenly, she broke free of his gaze and began to talk to the kitten. "You are a bundle of fuzzlelumps, are you not?" She nuzzled her nose into his fur and then sighed. "I cannot accept such a gift as this. Though I have loved precious felines, it would not be correct if I took this one from you."
In that moment, it felt as though the floor were slipping out from beneath him. "Miss Poleton, please, I beg of you."
She wrapped the kitten in her arms and looked down at it. "I am no longer that girl, George. I am soiled and unwanted now. It is time we both moved past such nonsense and accepted the truth. Your only real joy will be with Miss Hemming, or any other young miss who catches your fancy."
He did not know what to do with such a statement. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he said gently, "Nay, Catherine. Please do not think such things of yourself. I know it is my fault you believe this, and I cannot think of how best to repair the damage I have caused."
She gave a short laugh and then turned around and walked to the little sofa closest. "You are welcome to have a seat, Lord Hamson, if you would like."
He followed her example and sat upon a matching sofa across the way. "So I am back to Lord Hamson now, am I?"
Her eyes were full of pain as they connected with his. "Forgive me, but I feel it is best."
"I ask that you accept the kitten nonetheless. He will be of no use to me, and I hope he will alleviate some of the pain I have initiated in you. We were friends at one time. If I had one hope, it would be that we could grow into easy friends again. However, as you say, we have both altered—I have not altered for the better, though I have hope to. I cannot allow my selfishness to dictate over the souls of those I care for. Had you been turned out on the streets, I would be a fool to think less of you. My own arrogance is more at fault than anything you could do wrong. That sweet soul is what I connected with four years ago—not your actions or life, but you, my dear."
She took a deep breath and shook her head. "You do not understand the half of it, George."
He did not point out the use of his Christian name again lest she be reminded of her belief against using it. "Then please help me understand. Are you implying that others have been discourteous to you as well?"
"No, not as directly as you have."
He winced.
"Yet, mayhap I ought to be indebted to know what it is others are thinking behind their masked smiles."
"No, you are mistaken. Not everyone is as cruel as society would have you believe. Many people are quite content to get to know a person despite the blathering, and interact solely on what has been presented to them at the moment."
"Are you speaking of your friend Lord Atten?" She raised her head to look at him.
"Yes, precisely." He cleared his throat. "And how was your drive together?"
"Which one?" she asked with a smug little smile. "I have been driving with him twice to date, and tomorrow, we shall go out again."
"Tomorrow? For a third time?" His collar suddenly felt constraining. "How pleasant for you. I have known him for years. He is a capital fellow."
"Yes, he is very gentlemanly. He succeeds in talking enough to keep me occupied as well."
Did he note a trace of disdain? "A little too talkative, perhaps?"
She grinned and then chuckled. "Lord Atten is nice, though I often wonder if he is endeavoring to woo me, or merely using the justification to call upon me as a way to break up the monotony of the day."
"And who would not aspire to devote their day to you? I am certain he must feel something more than tedium, or he would not invest so much time."
"Do you?"
"Yes, though it pains me to acknowledge such things."
"I see no reason why, for the most of his conversations dwell wholly about you. In fact, we rarely speak of anything else. It has made me
Her gaze snapped to his on the word "loved," and he hastened to explain. "I meant you, of course. You loved."
Suddenly, she broke free of his gaze and began to talk to the kitten. "You are a bundle of fuzzlelumps, are you not?" She nuzzled her nose into his fur and then sighed. "I cannot accept such a gift as this. Though I have loved precious felines, it would not be correct if I took this one from you."
In that moment, it felt as though the floor were slipping out from beneath him. "Miss Poleton, please, I beg of you."
She wrapped the kitten in her arms and looked down at it. "I am no longer that girl, George. I am soiled and unwanted now. It is time we both moved past such nonsense and accepted the truth. Your only real joy will be with Miss Hemming, or any other young miss who catches your fancy."
He did not know what to do with such a statement. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he said gently, "Nay, Catherine. Please do not think such things of yourself. I know it is my fault you believe this, and I cannot think of how best to repair the damage I have caused."
She gave a short laugh and then turned around and walked to the little sofa closest. "You are welcome to have a seat, Lord Hamson, if you would like."
He followed her example and sat upon a matching sofa across the way. "So I am back to Lord Hamson now, am I?"
Her eyes were full of pain as they connected with his. "Forgive me, but I feel it is best."
"I ask that you accept the kitten nonetheless. He will be of no use to me, and I hope he will alleviate some of the pain I have initiated in you. We were friends at one time. If I had one hope, it would be that we could grow into easy friends again. However, as you say, we have both altered—I have not altered for the better, though I have hope to. I cannot allow my selfishness to dictate over the souls of those I care for. Had you been turned out on the streets, I would be a fool to think less of you. My own arrogance is more at fault than anything you could do wrong. That sweet soul is what I connected with four years ago—not your actions or life, but you, my dear."
She took a deep breath and shook her head. "You do not understand the half of it, George."
He did not point out the use of his Christian name again lest she be reminded of her belief against using it. "Then please help me understand. Are you implying that others have been discourteous to you as well?"
"No, not as directly as you have."
He winced.
"Yet, mayhap I ought to be indebted to know what it is others are thinking behind their masked smiles."
"No, you are mistaken. Not everyone is as cruel as society would have you believe. Many people are quite content to get to know a person despite the blathering, and interact solely on what has been presented to them at the moment."
"Are you speaking of your friend Lord Atten?" She raised her head to look at him.
"Yes, precisely." He cleared his throat. "And how was your drive together?"
"Which one?" she asked with a smug little smile. "I have been driving with him twice to date, and tomorrow, we shall go out again."
"Tomorrow? For a third time?" His collar suddenly felt constraining. "How pleasant for you. I have known him for years. He is a capital fellow."
"Yes, he is very gentlemanly. He succeeds in talking enough to keep me occupied as well."
Did he note a trace of disdain? "A little too talkative, perhaps?"
She grinned and then chuckled. "Lord Atten is nice, though I often wonder if he is endeavoring to woo me, or merely using the justification to call upon me as a way to break up the monotony of the day."
"And who would not aspire to devote their day to you? I am certain he must feel something more than tedium, or he would not invest so much time."
"Do you?"
"Yes, though it pains me to acknowledge such things."
"I see no reason why, for the most of his conversations dwell wholly about you. In fact, we rarely speak of anything else. It has made me
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