Название | Prejudice in Regency Society: An Impulsive Debutante / A Question of Impropriety |
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Автор произведения | Michelle Styles |
Жанр | Исторические любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Исторические любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
‘But you are not a labourer.’ Lottie swallowed hard and struggled to breathe normally. What was Tristan saying? How poor were they? ‘You are a gentleman. You were born one.’
‘You have not seen what needs to be done on the estate.’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘My hands will soon become as rough as any farmer’s.’
‘You are not suggesting we walk all the way there?’ Lottie strove for a laugh.
‘Walking is one way of travelling. Country folk do it all the time.’
‘Yes, but—’ She thought about her slippers and wished she had brought her boots. She had never considered the possibility of walking. Surely he had to be joking. Her slippers would not make it and her feet would be cut to ribbons. If they were going to walk, she’d need stout boots. A train journey would cost less than stout boots. It had to. ‘Gortner Hall is…in the North Tyne and we are in Scotland. It took us all night to drive here from Gilsland and we travelled with fast horses. How long would it take us to walk that distance and more? A day? Two?’
‘Don’t you fancy a night or two out on the open countryside— you, me and a friendly haystack?’ His dark eyes danced as he expertly did up his cravat. He had once again become remote. It was as if suddenly there was a wall between them.
‘Surely we are not reduced to begging.’ The blanket she had been clutching to her chest fell unheeded as Lottie realised the potential. Begging. Being classed as a vagrant. Maybe if she was very unlucky, being thrown in the stocks. She would become one of the despised. There had to be a way of avoiding that fate. ‘My settlement…we can borrow against that. It will be more than enough to take the first- class express.’
‘I have no idea what your settlement will be.’ Tristan finished dressing. The golden god of this morning had vanished and in its place was the remote man from the carriage, the one who had left her standing in the inn’s yard. ‘Your brother and I did not have time to discuss it. I have no doubt your brother will be fair when the time comes. Until my banker tells me it is there, Lottie, I have no wish to borrow against it. It is a good way to end up in Newgate or one of the other debtors’ prisons.’
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