The Dutch Girl by Donna Thorland Read Free Book Online Page A

than the quality of her conversation isn’t worth her time or effort.”
    She had been starting to dislike him, intensely, but it was impossible to despise a man who took his sister’s part, no matter how unenlightened he might be on the subject of females outside his own family.
    â€œWhat?” he prompted. “Aren’t you going to lecture me on the importance of feminine accomplishments?”
    â€œI expect that your sister already has, so I will spare you the lesson.”
    â€œI’m certain there are other things you could teach me.”
    Banastre Tarleton, the brother, and Banastre Tarleton, the man, she decided, were tolerable, even engaging. Banastre Tarleton, the seducer, was a decidedly unsavory character.
    When she did not take the bait he said, “I expect to be sent south in the new year, but if you are able to return before then, you could write to me, and I could come up with some pretext to visit Harenwyck and escort you home. It would not be so very difficult to arrange. There’s always unrest in the highlands and the territory is so vast that cavalry is the only answer. We could make it a very pleasant journey, you and I, and I could cover any expenses you might incur.”
    It was a proposition, and nicely done considering his aims, with no open vulgarity, and only an oblique reference to money changing hands. It had been a long time since she had received such an offer, and never one so delicately phrased.
    That was because her new profession rarely placed her in proximity to men like this. Anna spent most of her days surrounded by women. The gentlemen she did meet were fathers in the company of their wives and daughters. Such men were always on their best behavior. The tradesmen and artisans she dealt with valued her custom and would never risk losing her business.
    Tarleton, though, was neither a parent nor atradesman. He saw her as a
demimondaine
, a woman on the fringe of polite society. Because she sold her services as a teacher, he assumed that she sold herself as well. That made it all too likely that he would take her refusal personally. She wished they were closer to the inn.
    â€œIt is a very flattering offer, Colonel,” she said carefully, “but my livelihood in the city relies upon my reputation as a snaggletoothed dragon.”
    â€œAnd you conceive that I might play a swording Saint George to your toothy dragon.”
    â€œI think that is rather the point.”
    He smiled now, a wide, knowing grin, and she realized she had made an error. He mistook her frankness for another form of coquetry, or indeed for mere haggling. “The Hudson Highlands are
not
New York, Miss Winters. I know an establishment nearby that is both comfortable and discreet.”
    She had to make her answer plain. “I am sorry, but I am not in a position to accept,” she said.
    He stopped on the path and because her arm was entwined with his she was forced to stop as well. “I enjoy games,” he said. “I truly do. But
not
coyness. Not in a grown woman. It is unseemly and unflattering.”
    â€œI am sorry if I gave you a false impression, Colonel, but I’m not the sort of woman who conducts casual liaisons.”
    â€œBut
I
know that you are. Your young ladies are very well-informed on a variety of subjects not usually taught in finishing schools.”
    Her stomach lurched. Anna knew she had taken arisk explaining the dangers of intercourse, of disease, and pregnancy—and how to avoid them—to Mary Phillips. It was the lecture the Widow had given her, more or less. Anna had deliberated for weeks about whether to have such a talk with Mary, but after four months with the girl under her roof—one narrowly averted disaster after another—she had decided that it would be unforgivable to let the girl go on without a full understanding of the dangers she courted. And because Anna was a realist and could remember the temptations of