April Kihlstrom Read Online Free Page B

closer to the next one,” the young woman told him. “Most definitely closer to the next village. You’ve not more than a twenty-minute walk, I should say.”
    She was no housemaid. Those cultured tones belonged to a well-bred person. One more bit of evidence that she was who he thought she was. “Thank you,” he said with a bow. “Miss—?”
    “Miss Trowley. Would you like me to show you the way? It’s not difficult to find but I should warn you that when you come to a fork in the road, you will wish to go to the right.”
    Miss Trowley. So this was, or rather this might be,
his
Miss Trowley. Beatrix. Surely those were the same blue eyes regarding him with the same grave sympathy as his Miss Trowley had, almost ten years ago? Surely that was the same tilt of her head, the same curls, the same kind face. But the body had changed. Even in her drab clothing he could tell that much. He wondered if she would recall him.
    “I should be grateful for your guidance,” he said with his most charming smile. “It sounds easy enough to find but I don’t wish to risk making a mistake. After all, it is likely to be my coachman who will suffer the most, not I, if there is a delay in sending a rescue party to deal with the coach.”
    She hesitated, then blushed. So the years in between had not spoiled her. She had grown into a young woman with an understanding of what was proper and what was not, just as she had sworn she would. Excellent!
    Edmund made his voice even kinder as he assured her, “I will be upon my best behavior and offer you no cause for discomfort, I promise. Nor are we entirely strangers, Miss Trowley, for we met some years ago. I am,” he said, sweeping off his hat and bowing deeper than before, “Viscount Rothwood.”
    Uncertainty gave way to a blinding smile. “Oh, yes! I do remember your visit! I was a mere child and you were so dashing!”
    With that she clapped a hand over her mouth. His father would have been appalled that her words had been so forward, but Rothwood could not feel the same. Not when they cast him in such a positive light. Not when he hoped she would remember him so kindly.
    But he wasn’t supposed to choose a bride on the basis of sentimentality. This was to be a practical decision. He still must make certain she was as she ought to be, a young woman worthy to be his bride. His own emotions mattered less than what he owed to his family name. So instead of reminding her of the past, Rothwood smiled and kept his voice carefully proper, carefully reserved as he said, “Now that that is settled, will you take me to the village, Miss Trowley? Since we are, after all, old acquaintances?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “Excellent.” Rothwood paused and turned to assure his coachman, “I shall send back help as quickly as I can.”
    “Aye, m’lord.”
    As Rothwood held out his arm to Miss Trowley, he silently congratulated himself for hitting upon precisely the right tone to take with her. Although a trifle unorthodox, walking with her to the village would give him a chance to begin to fix his interest and that was all to the good.
    * * *
    Beatrix blushed. She could not help herself. But he was waiting and she could not keep him staring at her, his arm held out like that just because she felt like a silly school girl offered the attention of a boy she dearly desired to have notice her.
    With the calmest voice she could manage, she stepped forward as she said, “Yes, of course. This way.”
    She meant to be cool. After all, no matter how handsome he was or how deep a
tendre
she had felt for him all those years ago, now he was a man and men were not to be trusted. Look at her father. Look at her brothers. The more charming they were, the more likely women in their lives were to be hurt. Besides, it was foolish to think he could remember her with the same fondness she remembered him. This dashing gentleman could have no interest in someone as dull and plain as she was.
    Beatrix reached out to