She is willing to give up her love for his honor ...
He is willing to give up his honor for her love ...
Lady Beatrix Gillingham ran from her duty years ago...
Giving up her family's status and childhood dreams.
No one would suspect the barmaid is...
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Beatrix heard the whispers as she entered the tavern the next morning. Many of the patrons were giving her odd looks. She touched her wig to make sure it was in place and then moved around the room. The patron at the third table she approached finally told her why everyone was staring.
"Shall we call you Mrs. Gillett or Lady Gillett?" the man asked her.
Beatrix was confused.
Lady Gillett? Had someone discovered she was Lady Gillingham?
She looked around the room and caught sight of Joanna. The barmaid gave her a series of strange looks, but whatever she was trying to communicate was cut off by a thundering voice.
"Mrs. Gillett!"
She jumped and spun around to face Mr. Thump.
The man's face was red. "I'll have a word with you right now." He turned toward the kitchen.
Joanna rushed over and took Beatrix's tray. "It was John," she whispered. "The boy didn't mean anything by it. It just came out. Quite the story, really. I don't think I'd have been able to contain myself either."
"What are you talking about?" Beatrix asked. Her heart was racing. They knew. Somehow everyone knew who she truly was.
"The general," Joanna whispered.
"What?"
"Betty!" Thump roared.
She scurried toward the kitchen. When she didn't see him there, Cook pointed to her room.
Her throat tightened, and her skin felt as though it were being stung by a million bees at once. She put one foot in front of the other until she made it to her bedchamber.
Thump closed the door behind her with a loud bang. "Thought you could play me for a fool, did you?"
She shook her head. "Sir, I don't know what you speak of."
"Liar!" He pointed a finger at her. "You think you can fool me? You're no lady."
Actually, she was, but confusion made her keep her mouth closed.
"You think I wouldn't find out just who was in your bed the other day?"
Beatrix didn't have to think long to recall who Mr. Thump spoke of.
Hero.
It had been a day and a half since she'd seen the man who claimed himself a soldier yet no more than an hour went by without thoughts of him at the ready. He was constantly on her mind. His scent still rested on her pillow. It was an expensive cologne, but there were hints of the virile man underneath it.
He sketched like a master. In the time they'd spent together, she'd seen more sides of him than she'd thought possible from one encounter.
"A general," Mr. Thump went on. "And the second son of a duke."
