Page 64 of A Modest Independence
“So it is. But you wouldn’t be the first gentleman to ruin his life by marrying a girl just out of the schoolroom.”
“Miss Plank is twenty, I believe. Hardly a child. And I’ve no wish to marry her or anyone.”
His words stung. Jenny couldn’t understand why. Hadn’t she expressed the selfsame sentiment to him? It shouldn’t hurt to hear it directed back at her. Shouldn’t make her feel as if she was being rejected.
She forced herself to finish her lemonade. “Your wishes are of little matter when a determined lady has set her sights on you.”
“I’m not troubled by the prospect.”
“Why not? Do you think you can’t be caught? When I was Helena’s companion, I saw dozens of girls like Lydia Plank, and dozens more of their calculating mamas. They’ll have you standing in front of the vicar so quickly your head will spin.”
“If Miss Plank is capable of that, she has more depth to her than I’d realized. Perhaps I should marry her after all.”
“I’m glad the idea brings you so much amusement.”
“It amuses me because it’s so damnably unlikely. I mean it, Jenny. When it comes to dealing with calculating females, you may trust that I know what I’m about. I’ve no intention of being trapped.” Tom’s mouth hitched in a lopsided smile. “But it warms my heart to know you care.”
“Of course I care.” She took his empty glass and returned it, along with hers, to the hamper. “You should be in no doubt of that by this point.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” he admitted. “You were cross with me when we left Cleopatra’s Needle.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were. You scarcely said five words to me during the drive back to the hotel. And you were equally quiet at dinner.”
“It had nothing to do with you. I was just…lost in thought.”
“Anything you’d care to share?”
“Only that I thought myself prepared for this adventure, for seeing all the sights and encountering all the people. I read so many books and travel guides. But now I’m here in one of the most fascinating countries in the world and I realize…” She gave him a rueful look. “It’s nothing like a plate in a history book, is it?”
“Would you rather it was?”
Jenny considered the question. “Do you know, I don’t believe I would. Because then…then it wouldn’t be real. And it’s the reality of it that makes it so magnificent. The city and the people and Cleopatra’s Needle. There’s a sense of history here. Of something almost magical.” She flushed with embarrassment. “I’m putting it badly.”
“Not at all. I expect anyone of sensibility would be similarly affected by their first trip to Egypt.”
“Has it affected you?”
“To some degree. It’s made me want to know more. About the history and the culture. There’s a great deal to learn here if one has the time.”
“A very great deal. It’s all rather overwhelmed me,” she confessed. “The journey and the people and all the changes in my life. There are times I feel completely at sea.”
“You’ve struck me as being rather determined.”
“In some respects. I know what I want and what I don’t want. I suppose I’ve always known that. As for the rest…”
“What else is there?”
“Only the entire world. I have to discover my place in it. To figure out how to move about here without becoming like every other British female who barges in and tramples all over everyone.”
“There’s no chance of your doing that. For one, you’re not like other British females. None that I’ve ever known.”
“In other words, I’m an eccentric oddity.”
“In other words, you’re perfect just as you are.”
Jenny’s heart swelled, the beat of it becoming almost painful in her chest. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but—”
