Miss Dower's Paragon by Gayle Buck Read Free Book Online

then that you will be returning to London quite soon,” she said, raising a brow in delicate inquiry.
    Mr. Hawkins’s smile gentled. He said quietly, pointedly, “I have no such plans, Miss Dower.”
    His clear blue eyes caught her glance, and held it for several moments. Time stretched. Evelyn realized belatedly that she was staring. Quick color entered her face. She bent her head and pretended to be absorbed suddenly with choosing a small apple from the fruit bowl.
    Mr. Hawkins continued as though there had not been that amazing moment of communication. “I am awaiting the arrival of my cousin, Viscount Waithe, who will be staying with us for several days. So you see, Miss Dower, I am not the only London gentleman who finds something of interest in Bath.”
    “It is the fisticuffs match, of course,” said Mrs. Dower, nodding.
    “What did you say, Mama?”
    Mrs. Dower met her daughter’s astonished gaze with an apologetic glance. “I am sorry, my dear. I should have recalled it earlier, I know. I always tell Evelyn every interesting tidbit that comes to my ears, you see, Mr. Hawkins. I heard of the match whilst visiting with the butcher this morning. Mr. Gumpner is a very talkative gentleman. So interesting, the things he knows.”
    “Mama, really,” Evelyn murmured, dismayed, throwing a glance in the direction of their guest. She knew all too well that gossiping with tradespeople was frowned upon, and she prepared to shield her mother from disapproval.
    Contrary to her fears, however, Mr. Hawkins but laughed. “Yes, I fear that it is the fisticuffs match that brings the viscount,” he admitted. “We gentlemen are notorious for our vulgar tastes in entertainment, I fear.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. There is something peculiarly appealing about the masculine sports, I have always thought,” said Mrs. Dower. “My late husband was himself very fond of the ‘rough-and-tumble’ as he called it, and I never thought him more handsome than when he returned from a bout at the saloon, still flushed and possessing that martial light in his eyes.” There came a faraway expression into her eyes and the slightest of smiles touched her lips.
    Mr. Hawkins appeared a good deal astonished by Mrs. Dower’s reminiscence, but he made no comment upon it. Instead, he turned and engaged Evelyn in polite conversation. The conversation did not again stray from general topics before Mr. Hawkins finally rose to take his leave.
    Evelyn felt a sense of letdown as Mr. Hawkins made his excuses. However, she smiled politely and said what was expected of her. It was not that she felt inclined to keep the gentleman with them any longer. On the contrary, she was rather relieved when at last the door closed behind him. Yet there was something that seemed missing to her.
    Evelyn reviewed the visit in her mind.
    Mr. Peter Hawkins had been all that was kind and agreeable. He had been considerate and forbearing toward her mother when that lady had unthinkingly insulted Lady Pomerancy’s redoubtable character. He had not put forth a single opinion that one could have taken exception to, nor reparteed one of her own statements in a lively fashion. All in all, with the exception of that one striking glance that he had leveled at her, Mr. Hawkins had been an extraordinarily boring guest to tea.
    Evelyn realized that had been the trouble. Mr. Hawkins had committed the unpardonable sin. He had not shown the smallest hint of partiality for her, even when her mother had absented herself those few moments from the sitting room. Instead, he had put himself in the least romantic light by indulging in desultory conversation and had ended by expressing his pleasure in their company.
    Mrs. Dower had been speaking at some length before Evelyn became aware that her mother was discussing their departed guest, and that her mother’s opinion very nearly echoed her own.
    “So kind, so proper—the perfect gentleman. Do you not agree, Evelyn?”
    “Oh, yes,”