Page 41 of A Lady of Conscience

One wasn’t meant to discuss shooting people around a female of any age, let alone sheltered young ladies in their first season.

“I thought it rather romantic,” Hannah said.

“Romantic?”

“My father acted to protect my mother.” She brushed one of her fluttering bonnet ribbons back from her cheek. “She was counted a rare beauty in her day, with many admirers from London who wanted to take her away and set her up as a trophy in their great houses. She refused them all to marry Papa. They love each other desperately.”

“A moving story.”

“It isn’t a story. It’s the truth. And it is scandalous, despite being romantic. It’s one of the reasons my parents didn’t host a come-out ball for me themselves, and why they thought it better for me to debut in Bath instead of in London. They didn’t wish to risk my first season being sullied.”

James gazed stonily at the road ahead, his hands steady as he reflexively guided the horses over the rise. He hadn’t known the Heywoods’ long-ago actions were still exacting a price from them. “I thought it was you who wanted to debut in Bath?”

“I did. But my preferences weren’t the only factor. My parents are always a consideration. I’d no more cause pain to them than they would to me.”

James’s frown deepened. He’d been so consumed with rehabilitating the Beresfords’ scandalous history, it hadn’t occurred to him that Hannah’s family might have their own scandal to deal with. If it was indeed true that they’d made a calculated decision to keep their daughter away from London…

But he had no good reason to doubt it.

Every interaction he’d had with Captain Heywood and his wife stood as proof of how much they loved their daughter. They were clearly too protective of her to subject her to even a whisper of unfavorable talk, even if that meant encouraging her to spend her first season in Bath.

James’s own parents had been less obliging when it came to Kate. The Beresford way was more of the sword than of the shield. His sister had debuted in London without fear or apology, daring the society busybodies to say the worst.

And many of them had.

It hadn’t been the first time the Beresfords had kicked a hornet’s nest. One would think they enjoyed rekindling all the old gossip. That they relished the whispers about a stolen title. About James’s father being a usurper—a cuckoo in the nest.

“I daresay it’s why we have lived such a quiet life in Somerset,” Hannah said. Her dark brows notched in an elegant line. “Charles didn’t like it above half. He soon grew restless and desired to go to sea. But I love the solitude. I find it suits me very well.”

“Perhaps because you don’t know any different,” James suggested.

Her gaze returned to his, vaguely affronted. “One needn’t experience everything in the world to know where one’s heart lies.”

His attention lingered on her face. Despite everything she’d revealed to him, the revelations about her family’s scandals, and the obstacles she would face if she ever removed to London. Yes, despite even that, his blood stirred with warmth. He had never met someone so confident in their own best instincts. “Your heart is your lodestar, is it?”

“In all things,” she said. “Isn’t yours?”

“Not generally. I find my head to be a more reliable compass.”

“A person must use their powers of reason, naturally, but the right thing isn’t always the most reasonable, I find.”

James thought of his attraction to her. It surely wasn’t reasonable. That was the precise reason he’d resisted it for so long. And yet…

Here he was.

“Perhaps not,” he allowed.

Chapter Thirteen

Fallkirk’s Farm lay just outside of the small village of Bidbury, at the edge of a beautiful green valley. A sign at the entrance to the drive proclaimed its name.

Hannah twisted in her seat in the curricle, glancing back at the donkey to see if he recognized his home. There appeared to be no change in the little creature’s mood. He bore the same expression of alertness he’d worn when they had departed Camden Place.

“I thought he would be overjoyed,” she said.

“It’s been six months,” James replied. “Perhaps he’s forgotten?”

Hannah was skeptical. In her experience, animals didn’t forget the homes they’d had or the treatment they’d received there, neither the good, nor the bad. She settled back in her seat as the curricle continued toward the farmhouse, rolling steadily over the hardpacked earth.