The Mudlark by Delle Jacobs

Author:Delle Jacobs
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency, regency romance, regency england, waterloo, regency era, napoleonic wars, peninsular war, regency romp, wounded war hero, wounded warrior
Publisher: Delle Jacobs

Chapter Twelve

In which the gentleman learns beauty is as beauty does

And honor is more than glory earned in battle

Tristan folded the newspaper and laid it on the morning room table. At least the incident had not hit the papers. But what came next? If he did what was right by Izzy, he would be forced into revealing his secret. If he didn't--But there was no question of that. He could not let her reputation go to ruin.

And it certainly was not her fault, although she had made a poor choice, at great risk to herself. She had only wanted to protect him from exposure. He winced. It was a strange feeling, that a mere slip of a girl would willingly sacrifice her own regard to protect his male honor.

He didn't even know why. He had only begged her to protect his secret, and on that alone, she had virtually given up her entire future. It was a kind of integrity and courage he had never considered a woman might have.

He had, in fact, never thought of women as being much more than children, and had assumed they, as a group, were more or less like his mother, who had been interested only in whatever gave her pleasure at the time. They, he had always thought, gave birth, then turned their offspring over to be raised by others less fortunately born.

Oh, there were those, like Aunt Peaches, who were more kindhearted and responsible. Now, he realized, he had even placed Aunt Peaches in that same category, despite all she had done for him. But like Izzy, her frivolous nature was more an illusion than reality. Like Izzy, she found life full of joy. That did not mean that she was irresponsible.

Peaches was anything but irresponsible. She had taken him in as a hurting, lonely child, and given him all she could. And he had given back only his patronizing male disrespect.

He had done the same thing to Izzy. And she did not deserve it any more than did his aunt. What she did deserve was his trust.

So. He had a lot of bridges to rebuild.

***

Izzy always took her morning chocolate in the library with Lady Haverlock. It was her favorite time of day, a time to look out over the garden and enjoy the new colors of the morning, to feel the warm sunshine that poured through the windows and cast latticed shadows on the polished wooden floor.

It was a time when they usually planned ahead for the day, talked about what had gone on the night before. But not today. Today, neither brilliant sunshine nor fresh blooms brought on by yesterday's rain seemed to inspire them.

Lady Haverlock probed delicately, without putting Izzy's promise to the test, but her desperation showed.

The silence hung like a dark, tenuous cloud.

"The rhododendrons are lovely, this morning, Lady Haverlock," Izzy said.

"Yes, they grow lovelier every day," Lady Haverlock replied. Her lyrical voice had a plaintive note to it.

Lady Haverlock took a few more stitches on her embroidery, then gazed out the window.

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