Page 10 of A Scandalous Bargain
She lifted a shoulder. “My sister’s betrothed is the one who arrested Chamberlain.”
“Your sister is marrying Harry Sheffield?” He was brother to Lord Northwood, with whom Thomas was well acquainted.
“You arenotkeeping up on gossip. Which is to be expected.”
“I rarely do.”
“You’re better off,” Miss Whitford said. She hesitated before asking, “How is your daughter?”
“She scarcely understands, which is for the best. Thea wasn’t a particularly, ah, devoted parent.” Indeed, entire days went by when Thea never even visited Regan in the nursery. That disregard was perhaps the primary reason Thomas had grown to loathe her.
“I’m certain your daughter is quite lucky to have you for a father,” Miss Whitford said with grave confidence—and perhaps just a touch of wistfulness.
“I’m still not at all certain why you chose to help me instead of fleeing the garden.” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the outer wall of the house. “Are you going to tell me, or will you avoid that question too?”
“I like to be helpful, and you clearly needed help. As you said, your daughter needs a father.”
He’d had the sense Miss Whitford hadn’t been aware of Regan, but why would she? Miss Whitford had been visiting his garden to survey the duke next door, not him. “How long have you been coming to my garden?”
“A few weeks.” A faint blush stained the upper regions of her cheeks.
“I see. The duke must be very important to you.” Thomas pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides. “If there is any way I can return the great favor you extended me last night, I hope you’ll advise me.” He stepped toward her.
Her lashes fluttered as she tipped her head up to look at him. The difference in their height was great—she was barely taller than Thea. His stomach turned. He refused to compare them.
“Can I help you?” he asked. “With the duke, I mean.”
“He’s my father.” The words tumbled quickly from her mouth. So quickly that he wondered why she’d avoided telling him, for it seemed that was what she’d been doing. Perhaps he’d misunderstood.
“Oh.” Thomas was at a bit of a loss for words. Why would a young woman have to resort to spying on her father? He could only think of one explanation. “Does he, ah, know you?”
“He used to.” She cast a frustrated glance over her shoulder toward Ramsgate’s house. “He knew me quite well when I lived with my mother in Bath. He spent a great deal of time with us. He loved my mother. And me.” There was a simple conviction to her words that pierced straight into Thomas’s heart. “My mother became ill, and he stopped visiting. She died when I was eleven. That’s when I was taken to a boarding school.”
Her eyes widened, and she stared at him in horror. “I shouldn’t have told you any of that,” she whispered. “Not about my father or the school, any of it. Will you please forget I did?”
There was no way he could. “It seems we both know secrets about each other. I promise not to reveal yours.”
“I promise the same.” She held out her hand. “A bargain, then?”
He took her gloved fingers in his, but she withdrew her hand, surprising him. After removing her glove, she pressed her palm to his and clasped her thumb and fingers around him. The feel of her flesh against his made his breath catch. He tried to recall just how long it had been since he’d touched a woman.
“A bargain.” He quickly let go of her hand. “Why are you watching him?”
“Because it’s all I have at the moment. I am hopeful he will notice me this season and desire a reconnection.”
He remembered what she’d told him last night, about her sister, Lady Gresham. If Miss Whitford was a bastard, was Lady Gresham also born on the wrong side of the blanket? Did Ramsgate have two bastard daughters? He was curious but wouldn’t ask Miss Whitford to divulge more secrets. He doubted her name was even Whitford. He’d caught her slip when she’d started to call herself a different name last night.
“Miss Whitford, I hope you won’t think me too forward, but I truly meant it when I offered my assistance. I would be happy to help you in any way, and I won’t divulge any of your—or your family’s—secrets. I also won’t judge you.” He was the last person who would hold someone to any kind of standard.
“Thank you. You are most kind.” She smiled. “Perhaps you can ask me to dance some time.” Her smile evaporated into a grimace. “How obtuse of me. Of course you can’t. You’re in mourning now.”
“That’s true.” He hadn’t really thought about it. He hadn’t thought past today. “Well, I’m sure there will be a way I can help you. In the meantime, you’re welcome to use my tree.” He gestured toward the garden.
“You are most accommodating, my lord.”
“Please call me Rockbourne.” He’d almost said Thomas, but that would have been too forward.
She nodded. “I did just come tonight to check on you. You won’t mind if I do so again?”
