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“Indeed, at times that is so,” the man murmured.
“And I should think that he might share the family propensity for fair hair.”
“Are you sure it is not red?” the dark-haired man suggested, studying her tresses. “Such a vibrant color would suit a man—or woman—renowned for quick wits.”
Again her cheeks burned.
“Well, given such details it would seem that the captain should not be difficult at all to spot.” Lady Bellingham patted her son’s arm. “Good day, Theodosia, sir.”
Theo nodded, waited until the carriage pulled away, then turned to the man in the gig studying her with his lips curled to one side. Her midsection twisted disconcertingly.
“Theodosia?” the man said. “Not Theodore?”
“Do I look like a Theodore, sir?”
“Not at all.”
The way he looked at her—with warm interest, as if they were not the merest of acquaintances—renewed heat to her cheeks, and a breathlessness that urged her to leave. “Good day, sir. I must return.”
“But am I not supposed to offer you a ride?”
“You offered already, and I already declined. I suspect you know why I said what I did.”
“Because you might be good and kind and have quite the loveliest hair color I have ever seen, but you are also given to dissembling.”
“I am not the liar, sir.” She tilted her head. “Or should I sayCaptain?”
Chapter 4
Daniel couldn’t help it. He chuckled. “I dared not introduce myself to such a lady destined to look so disappointed when she realized just how far short I fall from her exalted ideal.”
“So youareCaptain Balfour.”
“At your service.” He dipped his chin.
When her green eyes met his again, they had sobered. “You must pardon my earlier levity, sir. I wish you to know how very sorry I am for your loss.”
“Thank you.” The sorrow in her eyes tugged at his chest and made him swallow. “I admit I was taken aback when I arrived at Mannering House to see the hatchment on the door and to learn from the servants of poor Clara’s demise. She had long been in my prayers.”
“Mine too.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry. I wrote to you to let you know.”
“I have been travelling and received your note about Clara’s illness but nothing more.”
“I’m sorry this was such a shock.”
That was not the only unpleasant surprise. “I had not expected the place to look as poor as it did. Had Clara and her daughter truly been living in such squalor?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Miss Stapleton? Surely someone who can be so free with a stranger can own truth when it concerns a woman dear to the both of us.”
“You must forgive my candor, sir, when I say your brother-in-law did not leave Clara and Becky situated in the manner in which they deserved.”
Truer words were rarely spoken. “Such candor is no crime. I will be the first to own that Francis Mannering was a bully and a skinflint and had little liking to be called to account for his crimes.” As Daniel’s last visit ten years ago had proved.
“Becky seems to have forgotten that.”
“It is natural she would want her parents to remain in high regard.”
