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Authors: Sophia Nash
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sweetheart, then I’ll give it to you. But fair is fair. I want to know what has happened to make you come to these”— asinine —“uh, interesting conclusions.” He disengaged her small hand from the material.
She seemed to have come to some sort of decision as she took a deep breath and began to speak quickly.
“Two gentlemen cried off from marrying me in the last twelve months. Both fell in love with other ladies—both good friends of mine—actually, the best of friends. I’m very happy for them, really. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. It was for the best, I know. I’m much better off the way it is. It’s just that these gentlemen…”
“Go on,” he encouraged, while the word idiots took up residence in his mind.
“It’s just that they were very different from each other. One was a brilliant, powerful duke, a former commander in the Royal Navy with a fiery temper. And the other was a cool-headed diplomat…”
“And?”
“And I thought they’d be attracted to very different ladies. But they were not. Actually…”
He waited.
“Actually, I had thought I was similar to my friends. But, recently…very recently, I’ve come to realize I am very different from them.”
“The difference being?” That you are the most beautiful, gentle, good-hearted angel on this godforsaken earth.
“I don’t want to say. I don’t want to influence your opinion. I, I want to know if you can sense it.”
“You know, I’m no good at flowery compliments. I can tell you the good points on a ewe or a mare but probably not on a woman. But that doesn’t matter. I don’t think compliments will drive out whatever it is that makes you think there’s something wrong with you, will they?”
“No.”
“All right, then I’ll tell you what I think.”
She looked at him expectantly.
“All females base their worth on their desirability to the other sex.”
She pondered the thought. “Yes, for the most part, you’re probably right.”
“But men base their worth on what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Think about it. They base it on their fortune and station in life, which is more realistic.”
“So?”
“So, perhaps you should start thinking like a man, sweetheart.”
Her face drained of all color. “Are you telling me my desirability lies solely in my fortune?”
“No. I’m telling you that your true worth is not based on your ability to attract a gentleman. And by the by, you seem to draw in those lordly sorts well enough. You’ve had two offers in the last year and now there’s this damned Brown fellow, although he seems to be somewhat wanting in brains and good character, if you ask me.”
She pulled her hand from his.
“Well, I can see I haven’t helped you. But then again, you should know better than to trust anyone, sweetheart. The sooner you learn not to count on anyone, be it a gentleman or not—the sooner you’ll stop wasting your time with these confounded questions. It’s like I told you. All men are scoundrels.”
He had said it deliberately. He knew that no amount of sense would dispel the doubts she had about her allure. In fact, there was only one sort of man who could help her, and he didn’t have the gold lining his pockets to do it. Clear, rational thought ruled him, and the pronouncements of a blacksmith would not make a lick of difference in allaying her convictions.
The paleness of her face proved she had withdrawn from the conversation, and he was glad.
“Mr. Ranier, I want to know how long it will be before I can get word to my traveling companion. And no, I don’t want to hear that that isn’t the right question. I just require your best guess.”
Michael had a deep desire to darken the daylights out of Grace Sheffey’s companion, whoever the dog was. “Missing him, are you?”
“Do you always answer a question with one of your own?”
“Only when I’d prefer a different question,” he replied. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry the
She seemed to have come to some sort of decision as she took a deep breath and began to speak quickly.
“Two gentlemen cried off from marrying me in the last twelve months. Both fell in love with other ladies—both good friends of mine—actually, the best of friends. I’m very happy for them, really. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. It was for the best, I know. I’m much better off the way it is. It’s just that these gentlemen…”
“Go on,” he encouraged, while the word idiots took up residence in his mind.
“It’s just that they were very different from each other. One was a brilliant, powerful duke, a former commander in the Royal Navy with a fiery temper. And the other was a cool-headed diplomat…”
“And?”
“And I thought they’d be attracted to very different ladies. But they were not. Actually…”
He waited.
“Actually, I had thought I was similar to my friends. But, recently…very recently, I’ve come to realize I am very different from them.”
“The difference being?” That you are the most beautiful, gentle, good-hearted angel on this godforsaken earth.
“I don’t want to say. I don’t want to influence your opinion. I, I want to know if you can sense it.”
“You know, I’m no good at flowery compliments. I can tell you the good points on a ewe or a mare but probably not on a woman. But that doesn’t matter. I don’t think compliments will drive out whatever it is that makes you think there’s something wrong with you, will they?”
“No.”
“All right, then I’ll tell you what I think.”
She looked at him expectantly.
“All females base their worth on their desirability to the other sex.”
She pondered the thought. “Yes, for the most part, you’re probably right.”
“But men base their worth on what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Think about it. They base it on their fortune and station in life, which is more realistic.”
“So?”
“So, perhaps you should start thinking like a man, sweetheart.”
Her face drained of all color. “Are you telling me my desirability lies solely in my fortune?”
“No. I’m telling you that your true worth is not based on your ability to attract a gentleman. And by the by, you seem to draw in those lordly sorts well enough. You’ve had two offers in the last year and now there’s this damned Brown fellow, although he seems to be somewhat wanting in brains and good character, if you ask me.”
She pulled her hand from his.
“Well, I can see I haven’t helped you. But then again, you should know better than to trust anyone, sweetheart. The sooner you learn not to count on anyone, be it a gentleman or not—the sooner you’ll stop wasting your time with these confounded questions. It’s like I told you. All men are scoundrels.”
He had said it deliberately. He knew that no amount of sense would dispel the doubts she had about her allure. In fact, there was only one sort of man who could help her, and he didn’t have the gold lining his pockets to do it. Clear, rational thought ruled him, and the pronouncements of a blacksmith would not make a lick of difference in allaying her convictions.
The paleness of her face proved she had withdrawn from the conversation, and he was glad.
“Mr. Ranier, I want to know how long it will be before I can get word to my traveling companion. And no, I don’t want to hear that that isn’t the right question. I just require your best guess.”
Michael had a deep desire to darken the daylights out of Grace Sheffey’s companion, whoever the dog was. “Missing him, are you?”
“Do you always answer a question with one of your own?”
“Only when I’d prefer a different question,” he replied. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry the
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