She nodded. “Of course not. But you live among the politicos and the royals. Are they fair-minded? Do they think of the country first and not their own pocketbook?”
“Yes, certainly, there are many who do.” At her arch look, he forced himself to be honest. “And many who do not.”
“There it is,” she said firmly. “A few honorable gentlemen shall be the hope for us all.”
“Well,” he said dryly, “perhaps it will be different in the Galapagos.”
She laughed, the sound sweet to his ears. “I am sure it is.”
They rode in silence then. The traffic was clogged, the stench even worse. But she seemed content to look at the fading sunset and dream of an island far away. What kind of life was it where a girl’s fantasies took her to something so far removed from reality? A prince in the Galapagos instead of a baker’s son right here.
“You must look around you, Amber,” he said, daring to use her given name. “You must try to live in the world we have, and not in one that can never be.”
She looked at him, surprised. “Why?”
“Because we cannot change what is here unless we set our thoughts here.”
“I am an immigrant who works nightly in a gambling den. I cannot change anything, and so I shall dream of there, wherever it might be.”
He could not argue that. Thanks to the circumstance of his birth, he had every advantage. Who was he to judge how she spent her days? And yet, he wished she had better. Better prospects, better circumstances, a better life.
But all he could do was give her a couple nights with his sister and a ball where she might indeed dance with a prince. Well, probably not a prince, but definitely an earl, for he meant to claim at least one set from her hand.
“Do you know how to waltz?” he asked abruptly.
She blinked in surprise. “No. The dance master considers it too scandalous.”
“Ask Diana to teach it to you, then save the first one for me.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes huge. He smiled at her then, knowing that at this moment, her thoughts were not on some island prince but of him and her dancing a scandalous dance. Her face brightened, and he saw the pulse in her neck leap in anticipation. If it were a different circumstance, he would steal a kiss. Sweetly at first, but with increasing passion, until he was the one reading her poetry at her bedside and singing arias to her as she slept.
Caught in such sweet imaginings, they traveled in silence to her home.