"Contrary to what my brother will tell you, I never lecture."
"Your lessons, if you prefer. I have delivered enough of those, usually couched as yours in terms of suggestions, stories, or analogies, to recognize one when I hear it."
"Did you enjoy teaching?"
"I wasn't a teacher. Not yet, at any rate. I heard lessons and tutored the younger girls, and yes, I enjoyed very much."
"And you miss it," he said, recognizing that from her voice.
Fenton School was a different world from the one she had entered under his guardianship. She had abruptly been taken away from everything she had ever known and then, in only a few short weeks, thrust into an alien and rather frightening environment.
And he had been the instrument of that change, even if Mrs Kemp had been the instigator. He wondered if either of them had ever stopped to consider whether or not Annie really wanted to make that transition.
"I miss the girls," she said. "It seems I have a strongly maternal nature. I had thought..."
The words trailed. Although Ian waited, his eyes on her face, which was turned down as she watched her fingers worry the kid gloves she had removed, she didn't finish the sentence.
"I really would like to know," he said softly.
Her eyes came up, looking distant, even a little puzzled, as if she had forgotten what they'd been talking about.
"Your maternal nature," he prodded, smiling at her.
"I had thought i should have to satisfy it by caring for the poor, orphaned Sally Eddington of the world."
Although he didn't recognize the name, he understood the implication. Apparently Annie had once thought to devote her life to the girls at Fenton School and now...
"And now?" he questioned aloud, realizing that he was dreading her response so much because he knew what it would be.
She hesitated, drawing a deep breath before she said, "I wonder if perhaps I won't."
Because she understood for the first time that she could have a husband and children of her own? That realization had no doubt come about because a very eligible gentleman had paid her a great deal of flattering attention. Suddenly Ian remembered Elizabeth's warning. 'The first rogue who flirts with Annie is liable to turn her head and steal her heart.'
"Not if you find someone whom you wish to marry," he said. Thankfully, his voice didn't reveal his tangled emotions.
"And that is, after all, the purpose of all this," Annie said. "The marriage mart. That's what Elizabeth calls it. As if husbands and wives are bought and sold."
Which wasn't far from the truth. It wasn't blatant as that, but most marriages within the ton had far more to do with settlements and suitability than with love. It was well and good for him and Elizabeth to be cynical enough to understand that. He wasn't sure that cynicism was appropriate for someone like Annie. Someone who was embarking on her first Season.
"It doesn't have to be that way," he said. "There are love matches within the ton. Elizabeth and Dare's is one. Not all marriages depend on negotiations and financial agreements."
"But must do," she said, holding his eyes.
Although it hadn't really been phrased as a question he answered it. "Among our class, yes."
"Is that why you never married?"
Which made it sound as if she thought he had missed his chance. And he had, of course. For a few moments, in thinking about Annie's marriage, it seemed he had forgotten his reality.
"I never found a woman with whom I wished to spend the rest of my life."
The words echoed with painful irony in his head. That might have been true a month ago, but he knew it no longer was.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because I was too busy doing other things, I suppose. University. The army."
He expected her to ask why he hadn't found someone in the time since he'd been home from Iberia. When she didn't, he realized, a little amused, that he had been right.
She considered him long past falling in love.
"Do you regret that?" she asked instead.
"The army or that I never married?"
"Both, I suppose. They seem to go hand in hand."
And they did, far more than she could possibly know.
"I don't regret joining the army. The cause was just, and I felt an obligation to serve my country."
"No matter the cost," she said softly.
'No matter the cost.' Until the last few weeks, during which Annie Darlington had lived in his home, Ian had not regretted any aspect of his life. Not even that, except in a distant, almost academic way. Now, however—
"Ian?" she questioned.
He looked up again and into her eyes, knowing that even if he did have regrets, they had come far too late. Expressing them would do no more good than revealing any of the other things he had kept to himself all these months.
"I have nothing to regret," he said, and hoped he would be the only one who would ever know how great a lie that was.