“Can I tell my classmates about it?” she asked.
“Yes, but they’ll probably already have heard. I bet it’s spreading like wildfire.”
“You haven’t seen Miss Carstairs since you were returned to England. Don’t you miss her?”
“I’ve missed her every second since we were parted.”
“I hate to imagine her being in jail.”
“I doubt she’ll be there for long. I’m sure someone will post her bail. She’s England’s darling, and everyone loves her—”
“Except Lord Roland!”
“Yes, except for him, so she won’t languish.”
Clara frowned. “Should we travel to London? Should we help her?”
“That is a splendid suggestion, but I have no idea how to post a person’s bail after she’s been arrested.”
“When did Captain Ralston bring the newspaper?”
“Last night, after you were in bed.”
“Drat! I didn’t get to talk to him. Will he stop by today? He may have learned more details about Miss Carstairs.”
“He won’t be stopping by.”
Clara must have noted a somber tone in her comment because she asked, “Today or ever?”
“Not ever again. It’s why he called on me last night. He and I have become too cordial, but it isn’t fitting.”
“He kissed you!”
“Yes, and I shouldn’t have let him. It was shameful for both of us to misbehave so flagrantly.”
“I guess this means you won’t be marrying him.”
Joanna snorted. “It would never have happened, and it’s a mystery to me why you were so certain.”
“It might be impossible, but I can still wish for it.”
“True, but as with many other of my secrets, please don’t discuss my relationship with him. There are several people who would be upset about it, and we shouldn’t make them angry.”
They bundled up, then they went to the door and walked outside. As they started off, Clara said, “I don’t understand adults. Why can’t he be friends with you? Why is it so wrong?”
“We were a bit more than friends. That was the problem, and we couldn’t solve it.”
“Why is it a problem?” Clara mulishly asked. “You’re pretty, nice, and smart. He’d be lucky to have you as his wife.”
“I’ll keep telling myself that.”
Mutt came up and nuzzled her fingers, sensing her woe in a particularly potent way. She laid her palm on his head, having him absorb some of her anguish. He never minded. He was good at whisking it away from her.
The Captain had been so morose when he’d sat in her parlor. She didn’t suppose he’d really wanted to end their liaison, and it was galling to discover that his sister had demanded it—and he’d immediately complied. Joanna had assumed Mrs. Howell liked her, that they’d established a bond, but what had she expected from someone who viewed herself as being so exalted?
If Joanna’s awful father had wed her mother, she’d be perched at a very high level and able to snobbishly glare down on Mrs. Howell and Captain Ralston. They never realized it though, and she never mentioned it.
He’d actually had the temerity to lecture her about how she was growing too attached. He figured she was like the silly debutantes of his acquaintance, that she would simply die of heartbreak if he didn’t marry her. But she was too tough to rue and regret, and she would never allow a man to make her feel inferior. She especially wouldn’t allow Jacob Ralston to do it.
She was one of the three Lost Girls who, against all odds, had survived a shipwreck in the Caribbean when she was four. It had imbued her with a strength Captain Ralston had never previously encountered.
He thought he was marvelous and that she was fortunate he’d deigned to notice her. Well, the joke was on him! He was fortunate she’d noticed him. The women of her ancient line had taught her that conceit.
The males of the species sucked up too much energy from the females in their lives, and she didn’t have the patience to put up with his pompous posturing.
She would give herself a week to mourn the loss of him. She would fondly reminisce over their furtive meetings, but she’d also remember that those meetings had been so clandestine he couldn’t talk about them aloud. He deemed her to be that disreputable.
Yes, she’d recall him fondly, and she’d sigh whenever a memory surfaced, but she’d move on without glancing back. There wasn’t a man in the world who could devastate her, and Captain Ralston definitely couldn’t.
Mutt nudged her hand again, and he stared up at her. He appeared to be frowning, as if he knew she was lying to herself, but she forced a smile and continued on, as if she was leaving Jacob Ralston far behind.
“Why don’t you marry her and get it over with?”
Jacob glared at Kit and asked, “Why would that ridiculous idea have occurred to you?”
Kit shrugged. “It was just a suggestion. There’s no need to bite my head off.”
“I won’t have you conspiring with Roxanne to coerce me. I’m perfectly capable of picking the date for my wedding without any help from you.”
They were in the library, having a brandy before they left to dress for supper. He was seated at the desk, and Kit was in the chair across. There were guests coming, but he was too grumpy to socialize with people he couldn’t abide. He’d expected some liquor would calm his dour mood, but so far, it wasn’t working.
“I’m not trying to aggravate you,” Kit said, “but I don’t see why you’d put it off for another year. I realize it was your mother’s plan, but when did you ever listen to her on any topic?”
“Gad, Kit, let it rest, would you?”
“If the nuptial state was winging toward me, I’d hurry to the altar so I didn’t have a chance to reconsider.”
“Your opinion is noted.”
Two weeks had passed since the awful night he’d visited Joanna, and he was grouchy as a wounded bear. He’d agreed with Margaret that he was conducting himself dishonorably, so he’d severed his connection with Joanna,
