Free The Summer of Wine and Scandal: A Novella by Shana Galen Page B

had no blunt and no place to go. Mrs. Nicholson said it would go worse for me on the streets. At least in the Den I would have food and a bed. She said if I worked for her for a few days, she’d pay me and I’d have enough to go home, if that was what I wanted. What did it matter if I lay with another man or two? I was already ruined.”
    Lochley closed his eyes. “But you never did earn any blunt, did you?”
    She shook her head. “Whenever I asked to be paid, she’d open her account book and tally numbers. I owed her for food and dresses and the roof over my head. Rents were higher in London. Everything cost more in London. I threatened to leave anyway, but she said she’d send the constable after me for stealing from her. I didn’t know what to do or how to get out.”
    “How long were you there?”
    “About six months. The worst of my life, if you can call that sort of existence a life. I hated myself. I hated the men. I wanted to die, and I thought about killing myself more times than I could count. And then one day my father stormed in. It was midday, and we were all sleeping. I heard him bellowing and recognized his voice. He’d come for me. Somehow he’d found David, found out where I was, and he’d come to take me home.”
    “I find I like your father more and more.”
    “You see now why he is a bit overprotective.”
    “Good man. Did he pay off the abbess?”
    She glanced at the ground. “He said she was a criminal and he would as soon pay the devil. I think she was a little scared of him. Even the footmen were scared of him. They let me go.”
    “How long ago was this?”
    “Three years, but it feels as though it’s another lifetime. Except for the ride home with my father. That, I remember quite clearly. I sobbed most of the way, asking him to forgive me, and finally after hours of silence, he looked at me and said, Caro, there’s nothing to forgive. You are my child, my daughter, and nothing you could ever do would alter my love for you. It’s forgotten. It never happened .”
    “Would that more people were like your father.” He crouched down and took her hands. “He’s right, you know. There is nothing to forgive. You were not at fault.”
    “But I—”
    He squeezed her hands. “You can tell me anything you want, but do not try to convince me you did anything wrong. I was wrong to treat you as I did last night. I hope you can forgive me.”
    She gave a short laugh. “Now you are being ridiculous. Thank you for listening, for not condemning me. It means more than you can know. And now I should probably go home, and you return to the Friar’s House.” She rose and attempted to free her hands to shake out her skirts, but he failed to release them. She met his gaze.
    “I don’t want to go back to the Friar’s House yet. I cannot seem to forget the kiss we shared. If you’ll permit me, Miss Martin, I’d like to kiss you again.”
    Her heart rammed her chest. “How could you still want to kiss me? I told you I have been a whore in a brothel. Any man could buy much more than a kiss from me. I cannot count how many men did. You don’t want to kiss me.”
    He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Do you think any of that matters to me? Does it change who you are? I told you. I see you.”
    “Then you see a former whore.”
    “No. I see a woman who is kind. She dirties her hands and dress to help dig a stranger out of a rut, even when the fool is too pompous to do it himself. I see a woman who is brave. She could have stayed in London and hidden, but she came back home to face rumors and criticism and held her head high. I see a woman who makes me laugh with her quick wit and her biting repartee. I see a woman who is beautiful in every way. How can I not want to kiss her?”
    Caro swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back tears. She took a tentative step forward and allowed herself to be enveloped by his arms. Uncertainly, she reached up and wound her