Page 42 of Almost A Scoundrel

“You read detective books?”

“Not exactly. I read true accounts of London’s past criminals such asThe Hangman’s Noose. Have you read it?”

“I cannot say that I have.” He knit his brows, a terrifying thought occurring to him. “Doyouwant to be a lady detective?”Are you a lady detective in secret?

“Honestly?”

Deerhurst gave a nod.

“Until today, I never thought about being anything other than what I am—a lady.”

He blinked. “Christ, youaregoing to become a detective now, aren’t you?”

She laughed. “Do not fret, Deerhurst. I have no desire to send my mother to an early grave.”

“I’m sure she will appreciate it,” Deerhurst said. “What of Huntly?”

“My father? Oh, it’s his books I read. I’m sure he will join me in my practice, which would be the final nail in my mother’s coffin.”

“I hate to admit it, but I can actually envision such a scene.” He held her gaze. “Thank you for being kind to the girls.”

“They are very adorable.”

Deerhurst sighed. “You have given them enough hope to conquer England.”

“Good,” she said. “By the time they become of age, the entire landscape of society may have changed.”

What a beautiful thought. “It may not, however.”

“Then perhaps they shall be the ones who change it.” She winked at him. “Don’t be such a man, Deerhurst.”

She held him spellbound. “Then you believe that little Evie can become a lady?”

“If she so desires.”

“That still doesn’t mean she will be accepted by society.”

He wasn’t speaking about Evie anymore, he knew.

“Acceptance is a relative term, Deerhurst. What matters is what Evie accepts or does not accept, not the world.”

“What about her husband?”

Phaedra arched a brow. “If he marries her, then he accepts her.”

If only it were that black and white. He, more than anyone, knew better than that. But she had given hope with her words. Hope to him. Hope for those girls. And a little bit of hope was better than no hope at all.

“Besides,” Phaedra went on. “What Evie does with her life is her choice, a choice that shouldn’t be weighed and found wanting by us.”

“I just don’t delight in the thought of them being rejected one day.”

“Of course they will be rejected. Rejection comes in many forms. Have you ever been rejected? I certainly have. And I’ve rejected many. You are asking the wrong question. What you should be asking is whether they can be content, even happy, if they don’t break from the mold the world has cast them into.”

Deerhurst thought of Abigail. He would protect her as long as he was able. But Phaedra had made some valid points today. His daughter’s choices in life and the path she would choose to walk were hers to decide, and he ought to support and respect those choices. Hiding her away for all her life, unless that was what she wanted, was not an option.

Deerhurst cleared his throat. “Where did you learn to be so wise? Don’t tell me from all the criminals in your books.”

She laughed. “Don’t ever mention that to my mother,” she said. “You might be horrified, but these are just my opinions, Deerhurst. Make of them what you will.