Free The Marriage List by Dorothy McFalls Page B

nothing of the swollen passionate petals he’d tasted the night before.
    The kiss. There were a few things he should say to her in regard to that kiss. But where to start?
    “I cannot follow you down such a steep trail,” he said instead, even though she had remained motionless, letting him take the lead and set the pace.
    They walked in silence for several yards down a well-used path. He sensed her stiffen with each step until she appeared to be strung as tight as a bow ready to spring.
    “I may play the part of a rake, Miss Sheffers, but I vow you are as safe with me as you would be with my old toothless sheepdog.”
    “I know,” she agreed far too quickly.
    “What I mean to say—” He struggled for the right words. How did he explain without scandalizing her or damaging her virgin’s sensibilities? “Although I dearly enjoyed kissing you and long to do so again, I am a man of virtue. I would never force my attentions or put you in a situation that would have your reputation questioned.”
    “Thank you,” she said.
    Her two-word replies dug into his gut. She wasn’t making the task an easy one. And why should she? He saw how society treated her. She was Lady Winifred’s companion, the lowest rank a young lady could hold. Most of the guests at Newbury’s party looked through her. She didn’t even seem to mind that she was expected to step back from the fashionables and fade like a servant into the wainscoting.
    Radford had been about to intervene at the party last night when the bubbly Lady Iona had appeared and taken Miss Sheffers’ arm, dragging her into the middle of a crowd of women. In fact, the Newbury family, with the exception of Lady Lillian and her mother, treated Miss Sheffers as one of their own—as part of the family.
    As interesting as his meandering thoughts were, they did nothing to solve how he was to address his kissing her. He should offer up some additional explanation . . . but what?
    “Why do you refuse the use of a cane?” she asked in the lengthening silence.
    The question stopped Radford where he stood. He wasn’t ready to speak of this. His injuries were his burden and his alone. To speak of them would only make them more real.
    He truly believed that if he pushed himself, ignoring the pain and the weaknesses, he could will the damage away.
    Miss Sheffers stopped on the grass path and turned to face him. “My aunt often refuses the aid of a cane. Pride, I believe, keeps her from depending on such a luxury. She leans heavily on my arm, instead.”
    “That must be quite a burden. Lady Winifred must weigh at least twenty stone.”
    “It’s a burden I gladly bear. My shoulders are strong.” She tilted her head up and peered into his eyes from beneath her straw bonnet. “But you don’t lean on anyone. Why?”
    “I don’t need to.”
    A slow smile, the closest expression to pity he’d seen on her lively features, stuck him in the belly like an icy sword. The last thing he wanted from her was pity.
    “You fool yourself, my lord. Bowing to the use of a cane cannot diminish your manhood. Your injuries, no matter how fleeting, are a reality—”
    “You know nothing. You cannot begin to imagine what has become of my life,” he said bitterly.
    “—Now my aunt, she will never recover,” she said at the very same moment. “She will only weaken.”
    Radford couldn’t miss the raw sorrow he heard in her voice.
    “I am sorry,” he said. “For your aunt, I mean. She is all you have?”
    “I have my parents and my uncle, the Earl of Redfield.” The words rang hollow.
    “Ah.” There was much more to that story. What, he could only guess. “The earl is Lady Winifred’s brother, I believe? He is also the one who introduced you to your beloved, Mr. Tumblestone?”
    May blinked furiously. He’d obviously touched a sour topic. “There are more important things than love when considering marriage, my lord.”
    “Of course. So you found yourself a rich man, eh?” he teased.