A Wallflower Christmas (Wallflowers #5)(7)



Mr. Bowman addressed her with a directness that seemed nothing short of subversive. “Tell me, Miss Appleton…what does a lady’s companion do? And do you receive wages for it?”

Oh, he was horrid to ask such a thing! Swallowing back her indignation, Hannah replied, “It is a paid position. I do not receive wages, but rather an allowance.”

He tilted his head and regarded her intently. “What’s the difference?”

” ‘Wages’ would imply that I am a servant.”

“I see. And what is it you do in return for your allowance?” His persistence was galling. “I provide companionship and conversation,” she said, “and on occasion I act as chaperone to Lady Natalie. I also do light sewing, and I do small things that make Lady Natalie’s life more comfortable, such as bring her tea or go on errands.”

Mockery flickered in those heathen eyes. “But you’re not a servant.”

Hannah gave him a cool glance. “No.” She decided to turn the tables on him. “What exactly does a financial speculator do?”

“I make investments. I also watch for people who are being idiotic with their investments. And then I encourage them to go at it full-tilt, until I’m left with a profit while they’re standing in a pile of smoking rubble.”

“How do you sleep at night?” she asked, appalled.

Bowman flashed an insolent grin. “Very well, thank you.”

“I didn’t mean”

“I know what you meant, Miss Appleton. I rest easy in the knowledge that I’m doing my victims a service.”

“How?”

“I teach them a valuable lesson.”

Before Hannah could reply, Annabelle broke in hastily. “Dear me, we mustn’t allow the conversation to drift into business talk. I hear far too much of that at home. Miss Appleton, I have heard such lovely things about Lady Natalie. How long have you been her companion?”

“For three years,” Hannah answered readily. She was slightly older than her cousin, two years to be exact, and she had watched as Natalie had blossomed into the poised and dazzling girl that she was now. “Lady Natalie is a delight. Her disposition is amiable and affectionate, and she has every grace of character one could wish for. A more intelligent and charming girl could not be found.”

Bowman gave a low laugh edged with disbelief. “A paragon,” he said. “Unfortunately I’ve heard other young women advertised in equally rapturous terms. But when you meet them, there’s always a flaw.”

“Some people,” Hannah replied, “will insist on finding flaws in others even when there are none.”

“Everyone has flaws, Miss Appleton.”

He was too provoking to be endured. She met his keen, dark gaze and asked, “What are yours, Mr. Bowman?”

“Oh, I’m a scoundrel,” he said cheerfully. “I take advantage of others, I care nothing for propriety, and I have an unfortunate habit of saying exactly what I think. What are yours?” He smiled at her wide-eyed silence. “Or are you by chance as perfect as Lady Natalie?”

Hannah was struck speechless by his boldness. No man had ever spoken to her in such a manner. Another woman might have withered at the derision in his voice. But something in her would not be cowed.

“Rafe,” she heard Lillian say in a warning undertone, “I’m sure our guest doesn’t wish to be subjected to an inquisition before we’ve even brought out the scones.”

“No, my lady,” Hannah managed to say, “it’s quite all right.” She stared directly at Bowman. “I am far too opinionated,” she told him. “I believe that is my worst flaw. I am often impulsive. And I’m dreadful at small talk. I tend to become carried away in conversation, and I go on for far too long.” She paused strategically before adding, “I also have little patience with insolent people.”

A brief, tumultuous silence followed as their gazes locked. Hannah could not seem to look away from him. She felt her palms turning moist and hot, and she knew her color was high.

“Well done,” he said softly. “My apologies, Miss Appleton. I did not mean to give any impression of insolence.”

But he had. He had been testing her, needling her deliberately to see what she would do. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Hannah felt a warm sensation bristling down her spine as she stared into the heathen depths of his eyes.

“Rafe,” she heard Lillian exclaim with exasperation, “if this is an example of your parlor manners, there is much work to be done before I will allow you to meet Lady Natalie.”

“Lady Natalie is quite sheltered,” Hannah said. “I fear you will not get very far with her, Mr. Bowman, if you are anything less than gentlemanly.”

“Point taken.” Bowman gave Hannah an innocent glance. “I can behave better than this.”

I doubt that, she longed to say, but bit the words back. And Bowman smiled as if he could read her thoughts.

The conversation returned to the topic of Natalie, and Hannah provided answers to such questions as her preferred flowers, her favorite books and music, her likes and dislikes. It had crossed Hannah’s mind to be untruthful, to put Mr. Bowman at a disadvantage with Natalie. But it was not in her nature to lie, nor was she very good at it. And then there was Lord Blandford’s request. If he truly believed it would be to Natalie’s advantage to marry into the Bowman family, it was not Hannah’s right to stand in the way. The Blandfords had been kind to her, and they did not deserve an ill turn.

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