conversation, her friend might still be in the townhouse. He most wanted to talk to Kitty without anyone else around. There was a lot they had to work through. He supposed in one sense, he would be her suitor until they came to a decision as to whether they would live in the same townhouse or go their separate ways.
Kitty offered a nod, and he escorted her out of the townhouse.
***
A few minutes later, Kitty and Aaron were near Hyde Park. They hadn’t said anything when they left the townhouse, and she was beginning to feel anxious about it.
After another minute, she said the only thing that came to mind. “I notice you didn’t bring your carriage. Or at least, you didn’t make the coachman stay around and wait for you.”
“I didn’t take my carriage,” he replied. “I thought I’d walk over here. It’s a pleasant day. I don’t always take a carriage.”
“My brother takes his carriage everywhere regardless of how far he needs to go. He likes everyone to see how expensive his carriage is.”
He grimaced. “I’d rather not think of your brother, if you don’t mind. I want this to be a nice afternoon.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something that unpleasant. It just slipped out.”
“I’m glad to hear that some people can be as bad as I am.”
“You’re not as bad as he is.”
Surprised, he dared a look at her. “I’m not?”
“No. He would never apologize for anything, and he wouldn’t try to work things out. The only person he cares about is himself. Thankfully, I haven’t had the misfortune of seeing him since our wedding day.”
“London is a big place. Even if we did happen to see him while on our walk, we can always find a path to turn down so we don’t have to talk to him,” he said.
“I suppose that’s one benefit of marriage. I’m not forced to talk to him if I don’t want to. I always thought I’d have to wait until I was twenty-one before I could be free of him. My original plan was to remain unmarried, but I was going to be on my own.”
“I had wished that, too, except there was the whole matter of the title that would have eventually forced me to marry.”
“I didn’t think of it as a burden, but it sounds like having a title can come with its difficulties.”
“It does come with some difficulties. I used to envy Roger. He has no title. If he had wanted to remain unmarried, he was free to do so without risking passing on his title to a relative who would ruin the estate. If I had been in his position, I never would have married at all. Though, to be fair, neither of us planned for this marriage. It was forced upon us.”
“Yes, life seems to have a sense of irony to it. Imagine two people who didn’t want to marry ending up having to marry each other.”
He chuckled. “It is funny when you think about it.” They crossed the street, and when they reached the other sidewalk, he continued, “What is it about marriage you don’t like?”
“I was afraid my husband would try to control me like my brother did.”
His cheeks grew pink, and she detected that he sincerely felt sorry for the restrictions he had put on her. What he said next only confirmed that thought.
“I’d like to say that your fear was unfounded,” he said, “but as we both know, it wasn’t.”
“Do you still believe me to be the type of lady who shares dalliances with gentlemen I’m not married to?”
“No. I know better now.”
“Was it because Miss Britcher told you that I wasn’t expecting a child?” she softly asked so no one overheard. Yes, she knew the question was a personal one, but she was afraid if she didn’t ask it while it was on her mind, she might forget it.
“Well, there was that, but there were other things.”
“What other things?”
He glanced around them, and since there was no one nearby, he said, “If you had shared dalliances with gentlemen you would have realized what thoughts went through my mind when we were in your bedchamber.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand. In addition to making sure no one was in my bed, I assumed you wanted to sleep. You looked as if you were going to collapse from exhaustion.”
“I don’t want to explain it. It’s apparent you don’t have the faintest idea what a gentleman thinks when a lady isn’t