Page 51 of Bargaining for the Barrister
She dropped the bow and walked away without a backward glance at him. What about the word money wounded her so? Was it because her brother’s factory made a significant profit and she expected the same in a husband? Surely that wasn’t it; something about her nature told him she would be content with far less than she was used to if she loved the man she married. Her reaction shouldn’t bother him so, but it did. This was his problem, so why was she making it her own? He caught the eye of Ian, who gave him a curious glance. This was Ian’s fault. He shouldn’t have paired them together, so he was going to have to accept what Paul did next.
So much for avoiding Louisa.
Chapter 23
Never had one word shakenher like the word money had when delivered by Paul. She had been set up. Lady Kellen had used her dowry as the puzzle piece to reach Paul’s heart. It disgusted her beyond all reason. The woman had approached Louisa in her most vulnerable moment and taken advantage of her. She marched away from Paul, purposely choosing a route to avoid Mr. Davies as well. Sadly, it meant away from the horses too. She desired nothing more than to ride back to the estate and have a moment to herself.
As soon as she cleared past Lord Reynolds at the rim of the group, she stopped a few feet away as if to watch the next round in front of the domed temple she had only heard stories about. The dam she had painstakingly built against her emotions since the death of her parents had reached its threshold, threatening to break the surface at any moment. Despite the tears stinging her eyes, it would not do to call attention to herself by stalking off across the meadow. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to hold herself together in public. She knew the routine. Deep breaths. Smile. Think positively. This, too, would pass.
Paul handed off his bow to Mr. Davies, picked up the one she’d cast off, and handed it to Miss Davies. Then he strode toward Lord Reynolds. To her surprise, he brushed past his friend, coming directly to her.
His voice was gentle. “Why did you throw your shot?”
She shrugged, not trusting herself to speak.
He assessed her with his keen hazel eyes, and she wondered if he did the same to the men he defended in court. He tipped his head toward the meadow. “Let’s take a walk.”
Reining in her emotions with him near would be a greater challenge, but perhaps if they were walking, it would be easier done. “What about the others?”
“They know the night before last was difficult for you and will understand if you need some time.”
“They know about... ?” She waved her hand toward him. She couldn’t say the word kiss as easily as she once had. It meant more to her than it ever had before and was irrevocably tied in a tender and heart-wrenching memory with Paul. To think the others knew...
“No,” Paul said much too quickly. “I meant they know about Mr. Turner.”
She nodded to accept the invitation to walk, not sure what was right anymore. She fell into step with Paul, pushing through the knee-deep meadow grass.
“If we turn here, there is a path along the side of the meadow by the trees that leads back to the house.” She walked with him, but thoughts of betrayal made her want to run and never look back. Was this where God had led her? To have her heart broken? Wasn’t it already irreparably fractured from the loss of her parents?
Paul’s hand that swung nearest to hers clenched and unclenched. He was working on saying something, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more of his confession about why they were ill-suited. She was ready to put it past her and return home.
“I offended you just now, and I am sorry.” Surprisingly, his words soothed her a little, even though the apology did not extend to his abrupt dismissal after their kiss. “Do you mind explaining why it pained you so I don’t make the same mistake twice?”
She turned to him. “Perhaps the explanation is better served with a follow-up question. Do you not wonder how we came to be locked in the attic that morning?”
He furrowed his brow. “Lady Kellen told us a servant locked it.”
“I think it was your mother.”
Paul pointed to his chest. “My mother? You must be mistaken. She would never—” He paused. “At least, I think she would never do such a thing.”
“Lady Kellen already admitted to inviting Mr. Turner and Mr. Davies to drive your competitive spirit. Even this morning feels contrived, as it was her idea to ride in this direction. The matchmaking mamas in this neighborhood are too relentless, in my opinion.”
Paul stared at her, his brows puzzled.
She forced a smile, but it would not hold. “Forgive me. I do not mean to insult your mother, by any means.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his shirtsleeves pulling tight and revealing the defined lines of his muscles—a distraction she did not care for at a time like this.
“What does this have to do with money? Did Lady Kellen and my mother give you the impression I was rich? Are you disappointed, knowing the grand estate my parents live on?”
“I confess to be surprised,” she said, blowing out her breath, “but for different reasons than you suggest.” She looked back at the others and saw more than one gazing their way. “We have an audience.”
“Should we give them another show?” He looked as frustrated as she felt and still was attempting to ease her concern.
Despite wanting to cry, a laugh bubbled to the surface. “Absolutely not. Your acting puts the performers in London to shame.” And she knew he’d only be doing it for her, not for him, and that was not a show she cared to be a part of.
“It’s a little trick I learned as part of my profession. I must play a role depending on whom I am arguing my case in front of. It probably makes little sense to you, but so much of justice these days depends on not just a well-researched case but the delivery of it.” He pointed to the trees that ran alongside the meadow. “Instead of returning to Bellmont, on the side of those trees we can take the path to the upper pond, where you can answer without any onlookers that question you’ve been avoiding.”
