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“Once, I might have said so,” Reginald replied, “but I can think of a couple compelling reasons not to.”
When his eyes landed on her, Marcella flushed. “Do I mean so much to you that you’d abandon so many people who you care about with all your heart?”
“I care about you, too,” he said gently. “More than I thought possible. Besides, I think I can serve those people better if I’m the Marquess of Hurrow. I’ll have the power to change things, really change them. I can do so much more than give them a handful of coins here or there.”
“That’s very noble of you, to think so much of others.”
“I’d like to say I’ve always put the needs of others before my own, but that isn’t entirely true. As a young man, I was quite a selfish creature. How much do you remember of my adolescence? You were so young.”
“I remember mostly what I was told,” Marcella confessed. “My stepmother was always vexed by you, but she insisted that you were just a boy. Boys were mischievous, she said. I’ll admit that I envied you a bit for that.”
“Did you?”
Marcella nodded. “My stepmother was quick to tell me all of my flaws, and I was a little envious for how easily yours were dismissed. Even when you were reproached, it was with thought and consideration for your desires as a budding man. It is not the same for women.”
“I never realized that,” Reginald admitted.
Marcella twirled her parasol between her fingers and moved it to the opposite shoulder. She gazed at Reginald from beneath her eyelashes. “I don’t fault you for that. I think it’s difficult to understand an experience which you’ve not really lived. Your unique experiences will make you all the better. You’ve met all those commoners, people who struggle each day in the poorest parts of London.”
“I could take you to meet them someday,” Reginald offered. “If you like.”
“To see all the theaters and brothels?” Marcella asked. “That’s what Adeline says Southwark is like.”
Reginald chuckled. “And did your dear friend regale you with tales of those places? I’dloveto hear them.”
“She did not,” Marcella replied. “Perhapsyouwould like to share some.”
Reginald shook his head. “I can tell you about some of those ladies and of the streetwalkers, but I’ve only met them. I never employed their company.”
“Really?”
Marcella raised an eyebrow and searched Reginald’s face for any sign that he was teasing.
“You sound utterly astonished,” Reginald said dryly. “In truth, I fear I might be an overly sentimental man. I’ve always rather feared becoming intimate with a woman whom I did not love, out of concern that a woman’s company might persuade me to love. And the life of a highwayman was…far too dangerous to bring a woman into.”
“How thoughtful.”
He gave her a small, depreciating smile. “I am that, occasionally.”
They continued along the garden path in companionable silence. Marcella’s eyes darted to Reginald, as if she could scarcely bear to be without her eyes on him for more than a few fleeting seconds. Her gaze traced along the line of his strong jaw down his neck and over his broad shoulders. Even dressed like a gentleman, there was something wild about him which no amount of polish could smooth away.
“Do you think ill of me?” Reginald asked. “For my past? I’ve not always been a good man.”
Marcella considered the question for a moment. She’d been utterly astonished by Reginald’s confession of being a highwayman, but any horror she might’ve felt had been numbed by the rare vulnerability she heard in his voice.
“I haven’t always been a good woman,” she said at last.
She was thinking of how she’d behaved towards him, of how she’d tried to sabotage their engagement by playing the most obnoxious, unlikable lady that she could. Her stomach twisted itself in knots. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have done that. Not only had it been unfair, but Reginald had been…
So patient. So compassionate. He hadn’t deserved any of the coldness or vitriol which she sent his way.
“I doubt your sins are as great as mine,” Reginald replied.
They’d walked the span of the trail and nearly returned to the manor. Marcella smiled. Her sins were not as great as his, but they were still sins, nonetheless. She’d still been cruel when she could’ve been kind.
I must do better.
And she would. For all her faults, Marcella was a determined young lady. Once she set her mind to doing something, she pursued it with a singular determination.
