furrowed her brow as she released a sharp sigh.
“Very well. I wish to retire here.” Another emotion darkened her gaze as he stared at her. He was certain she was telling him the truth as to why she wanted the estate, just not the whole truth. She didn’t need a house as big as Crawley Hall. It was meant for a large family, or as in his case, as a home for orphans. He clasped his hands behind his back and arched his eyebrow.
“Retirement? You’re far too young for that.” It was a sincere observation, but it made her eyes open wide with amazement. Suddenly, she laughed out loud. It was a melodious sound that generated a bolt of pleasure inside him. He liked the sound of her laughter.
“I thank you for the compliment, but I’m forty-one. And for a woman in my position, that makes my prospects shall we say . . . limited.”
“I think you underestimate your charms, Ruth. There are plenty of men who would eagerly seek out your company. You’re a beautiful woman.” And younger looking than she gave herself credit for . The woman could have easily passed for little more than a few years older than him instead of the twelve that was between them.
“You flatter me, but you have the blindness that comes with youth, something I lost a long time ago.” She sent him a wry smile. It irritated him that she could dismiss his compliment so easily. She was more desirable than she realized. He ignored the alarm ringing in his head.
“You seem to think me a callow youth attempting to gain your favor with flattery,” he snapped. “I’m not in the habit of saying something I don’t mean.”
Her violet eyes turned a stormy hue as she stared at him in surprise before she tipped her head in his direction.
“Forgive me. I’ve clearly forgotten how to accept a compliment.”
Despite her quiet apology, he was still annoyed. There might be a substantial gap in age between them, but it wasn’t as if he was fresh out of the schoolroom. Nor had she captivated him so completely that he’d lost his senses. An unconvincing lie, but one he could live with at the moment. He might not have the experience of a woman’s bed, but he was far from innocent as to what happened between a man and woman. More importantly, he wasn’t the kind of man who would unceremoniously discard a mistress simply because of her age.
And Marston had made that point brutally clear by his comments and current relationship with a woman half Ruth’s age. What the bastard had done to Ruth was reminiscent of the humiliation he’d suffered more than ten years ago. He’d lost his youth and innocence in one fell swoop the night his uncle and Bertha had deliberately humiliated him. He understood more than she’d ever know how deeply insults could cut.
The thick silence between them obviously made her uncomfortable, and he saw her fingers fidget with the handle of her umbrella. A ridiculous thing to be carrying out here in the snow. Of all the things about women, their fashions and need for fripperies was the one thing he’d never understood.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lor . . . Garrick, I think I’ll return to the house.”
“You continue to have difficulty with my name. Do I make you nervous?” He narrowed his eyes as he saw color flush her cheeks.
“It . . . it denotes an intimacy that doesn’t exist between us.”
“There are various forms of intimacy, Ruth. Could we not at least be friends?”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Because there are a couple of years difference between us?” He saw her flinch at the question. The devil take it, he would have to remember how sensitive she was about her age.
“ No , of course not.” The tone of her voice told him the age difference between them was precisely the reason why she’d refused his offer of friendship.
“And if I bought Crawley Hall for you? Would that change the way you feel?”
Bloody hell, had he lost his mind? This was the largest place he’d found in months
“Very well. I wish to retire here.” Another emotion darkened her gaze as he stared at her. He was certain she was telling him the truth as to why she wanted the estate, just not the whole truth. She didn’t need a house as big as Crawley Hall. It was meant for a large family, or as in his case, as a home for orphans. He clasped his hands behind his back and arched his eyebrow.
“Retirement? You’re far too young for that.” It was a sincere observation, but it made her eyes open wide with amazement. Suddenly, she laughed out loud. It was a melodious sound that generated a bolt of pleasure inside him. He liked the sound of her laughter.
“I thank you for the compliment, but I’m forty-one. And for a woman in my position, that makes my prospects shall we say . . . limited.”
“I think you underestimate your charms, Ruth. There are plenty of men who would eagerly seek out your company. You’re a beautiful woman.” And younger looking than she gave herself credit for . The woman could have easily passed for little more than a few years older than him instead of the twelve that was between them.
“You flatter me, but you have the blindness that comes with youth, something I lost a long time ago.” She sent him a wry smile. It irritated him that she could dismiss his compliment so easily. She was more desirable than she realized. He ignored the alarm ringing in his head.
“You seem to think me a callow youth attempting to gain your favor with flattery,” he snapped. “I’m not in the habit of saying something I don’t mean.”
Her violet eyes turned a stormy hue as she stared at him in surprise before she tipped her head in his direction.
“Forgive me. I’ve clearly forgotten how to accept a compliment.”
Despite her quiet apology, he was still annoyed. There might be a substantial gap in age between them, but it wasn’t as if he was fresh out of the schoolroom. Nor had she captivated him so completely that he’d lost his senses. An unconvincing lie, but one he could live with at the moment. He might not have the experience of a woman’s bed, but he was far from innocent as to what happened between a man and woman. More importantly, he wasn’t the kind of man who would unceremoniously discard a mistress simply because of her age.
And Marston had made that point brutally clear by his comments and current relationship with a woman half Ruth’s age. What the bastard had done to Ruth was reminiscent of the humiliation he’d suffered more than ten years ago. He’d lost his youth and innocence in one fell swoop the night his uncle and Bertha had deliberately humiliated him. He understood more than she’d ever know how deeply insults could cut.
The thick silence between them obviously made her uncomfortable, and he saw her fingers fidget with the handle of her umbrella. A ridiculous thing to be carrying out here in the snow. Of all the things about women, their fashions and need for fripperies was the one thing he’d never understood.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lor . . . Garrick, I think I’ll return to the house.”
“You continue to have difficulty with my name. Do I make you nervous?” He narrowed his eyes as he saw color flush her cheeks.
“It . . . it denotes an intimacy that doesn’t exist between us.”
“There are various forms of intimacy, Ruth. Could we not at least be friends?”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Because there are a couple of years difference between us?” He saw her flinch at the question. The devil take it, he would have to remember how sensitive she was about her age.
“ No , of course not.” The tone of her voice told him the age difference between them was precisely the reason why she’d refused his offer of friendship.
“And if I bought Crawley Hall for you? Would that change the way you feel?”
Bloody hell, had he lost his mind? This was the largest place he’d found in months