Pleasures of a Notorious Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Crimea had resembled the man he’d been before. While he’d always been cautious, had avoided any by-blows, he’d always wondered how he would respond if faced with the situation. His family had accused him of being a man without character, but he’d hoped it was a façade of his fun-loving youth. Yet he’d never been tested. Until now.
    “John was born in Paris,” she continued, her voice growing a bit stronger, as though she now traveled on firmer ground. “I’d considered raising him there, but then—”
    John. The boy’s name was John. It was a good, strong name. He wondered why she’d selected it, if it held any significance for her.
    She stopped walking, causing him to do the same. His leg welcomed the reprieve. He seldom gave it any, as though he could punish it for its constant ache, for his inability to remember how it had come to be injured.
    “I saw your name on a list of casualties.” A mist formed in her eyes, and she blinked them back. He’d meant something to her, something precious. Had she meant anything to him other than a wild romp?
    What had he felt for her, damn it! He wanted to know. He wanted to ask her what they had done, where they had gone, how long they had been associated with each other. He wanted to know her secrets, wanted to know if he’d shared his. Had he trusted her? Devil take it! Had he loved her?
    “I thought you were dead,” she said hesitantly, as though she feared if she spoke the words with assurance she could cause them to come true.
    No, only a portion of my mind died out there on that godforsaken battlefield . A field that he couldn’t envision no matter how diligently he tried.
    “My family thought so as well,” he told her. “It was the news that was initially given to them.”
    “They must have been devastated.”
    He had no words for the agony they must have suffered. During the first week after he returned home, his mother had barely let him out of her sight, as though he were once again a child to be constantly watched, so he didn’t endanger his existence.
    “I can sympathize with how they must have felt. I knew I couldn’t keep John to myself then. You must understand. I love him more than my own life, but he is yours and I thought he would bring comfort to your family.”
    “And shame to yours.”
    “My father doesn’t understand, but then how can he? He’s not been through what we have been.”
    As far as his mind was concerned, neither had he.
    “Life is so precious, so very precious. I don’t expect you to marry me. I—”
    “Why?” he asked, unable to control his curiosity, to prevent the word from being uttered. “Why do you not expect it? I got you with child.”
    Her eyes widening, her mouth opening slightly, she turned away. He saw the visible tenseness in her shoulders, the way she clutched her hands, as though she were in need of comfort. Was their relationship such that he would have offered it? Should he fold his hand over her shoulder? Should he squeeze it? Should he take her into his arms? Good God, the awkwardness of the moment was almost beyond bearing. He should tell her.
    Forgive me, but I don’t know who the bloody hell you are. I don’t remember what you were to me, what I was to you.
    S taring at the withered garden, Mercy prayed she’d turned away quickly enough that he’d not seen the confusion clouding her eyes. This stroll with him was not at all as she’d anticipated. She’d expected accusation, a demand to know the game she played. And yet it seemed he was the one playing games.
    I got you with child.
    The words had been spoken with conviction, as though he believed them. But how could he? She knew that sometimes a battle could rattle a man’s mind, leave him bewildered, befuddled.
    But Major Lyons seemed to be in complete control of his faculties . . . and yet, his statement indicated otherwise.
    He had confused her with someone else, someone who could have given birth to his child.
    Not a woman