Page 77 of Almost A Scoundrel

Phaedra suddenly thought of the orphanage Deerhurst had taken her to. She scrutinized Abigail’s face. No doubt. The girl had inherited many of her father’s features. The most undeniable... her vivid green eyes.

“I once thought your papa a knight.”Before he called me a wench to his daughter.

She wanted to strangle Deerhurst.

The girl giggled. “Is he not a knight?”

“No.”

“What is he then?”

A scoundrel. Anirresistiblescoundrel.

“I’ll tell you once I’ve figured it out,” she told Abigail.

A strong, familiar baritone came from beyond the garden, “Abigail?”

Oh, no.

Phaedra glanced around for a spot to hide. Too late. A moment later Deerhurst stepped outside. His gaze fell on her, and she swore all the color leaked from his face.

“Phaedra?” Her name sounded as unsteady as her heart.

She slowly rose to her feet.

“Papa!”

The unease on her face must have been palpable because he practically shot forward and reached them in three long strides.

“Abigail, sweetheart, why don’t you go inside?”

Ever the protector, Phaedra thought, amusement reclaiming space in her heart. Did he think she would shun his daughter? Though if Abigail was illegitimate, she would not blame him if he feared so.

She would have done the same in his place.

Abigail waved her goodbye and skipped to the house. They both watched her until she disappeared into the house before they turned to one another. This time, he bore an aloof air, no emotion on his face to indicate what he may be feeling.

But Phaedra knew.

The orphanage. His aversion to marriage. The man before her protected women. He would protect his daughter.

Phaedra tilted her head to consider him. “Abigail is the reason you’ve not taken a wife.”

“Ladies do not tolerate the offspring of their husband’s affairs.”

So blunt.

Cold even.

And yet all Phaedra wanted to do was to pull him close and kiss warmth back into his eyes.

She wondered who the woman was that he had an affair with, but promptly shoved that thought from her mind. She didn’t want to know.

“Ladies are like that,” Phaedra agreed. Most. Not all.

“Are you like that?”

Phaedra’s heart ached for him. How could anyone shun that little girl? It was inconceivable to her. Children were to be protected, not abused in any way. “I would never shun your daughter, Deerhurst. If you don’t know anything else about me, you should at least know that.”