She wrapped both her hands around his upper arm and squeezed. “Dear Lord, why would he do that?”
“To win, to feel he’d bested me.”
“Did she ever explain herself?”
“She came to me later, regretted the hurt she’d caused but confessed she’d lost her head, been lured by his charms. My mother once told me that when he set his mind to it, when he identified a woman he wanted, he could be quite charismatic. I never witnessed that aspect to him, but she must have spoken true because he had so many mistresses. I never understood what any of them saw in him.”
“He sounds like a snake charmer, able to make a cobra follow his lead, even when it’s not in the snake’s best interest, because the snake will be stuffed back into the basket.”
“I appreciate the analogy, but I always saw him as more the snake.”
Her lips twitched a bit, before she grew somber. “Might not have been the best example. I’ve never met your father, but I don’t like him.”
“You’d have never been fooled. You’re too wise for that.” She’d have taken him apart until she revealed his black heart.
She seemed pleased by his words.
“Still, I was baffled. Her father had yet to make his fortune, but with other investments, I was well on myway to acquiring mine. So whatever she saw in him, it wasn’t financial. Anyway, I couldn’t forgive her indiscretion.”
“As well you shouldn’t have.”
Her defense of him, the anger in her tone, was a balm. He couldn’t imagine her ever being unfaithful.
“I heard Rachel became his mistress for a while. Her father disowned her. I have no idea what eventually became of her.” Not that he hadn’t often wondered. But he certainly hadn’t gone to his sire to ask, because he knew the earl would do his best to humiliate him, to make him pay something—probably coins considering the crumbling nature of his estates and his empty coffers. Or he might require his son to beg. He still saw Rachel’s father from time to time, was still a shareholder in his company. But he never spoke of the daughter who’d disappointed him. However, Rook did hope that, when she’d left his father, she’d found a good life elsewhere.
“She’s the reason you know about the farewell kiss, and about not realizing that’s what it was at the time.”
“Very astute.” He’d kissed Rachel the morning of that fateful day, when they’d gone on a stroll following breakfast. It had been short, sweet, and innocent, nothing at all like the hungry kisses he shared with Nora. With Rachel, the kisses had been like a light breeze fluttering curtains. With Nora, from the beginning, kissing her had been like a tempest, strong and powerful enough to destroy all in its wake. Then perhaps to build something new and more lasting in its place—but he didn’t want to ponder that angle.
“In all these years,” she began softly, “you’ve never met anyone else—”
“A few years later the daughter of an earl caughtmy fancy, but she had no interest in being associated with my family, especially after my father began making untoward advances. He prefers the young and untouched. I threatened him, got him to leave off, but the damage was done. His reputation for unfaithfulness was well-known by then. She assumed I’d follow in his footsteps because it was the example he’d set for me, growing up. A lack of loyalty, a lack of commitment. No matter how fiercely I denied being anything like him, she was unconvinced. I realized words weren’t enough. I had to demonstrate my character with actions.”
“That’s the reason you were never written up in the gossip columns... until me.”
With a shrug, he chuckled darkly. “I have tried to live a life that was the complete opposite of his.”
“Hence no bastards.”
“No bastards.”
“At balls, it’s the cardroom for you, not the dance floor.”
Again, until her. “No sisters, daughters, or mothers taken advantage of. No whispers of clandestine trysts. No opportunity to be judged as untrustworthy. I’m considered quite boring, the most lackluster of the Chessmen.”
“But you’re not boring or dull.”
She stated it vehemently as though he’d insulted himself by referring to himself as a dullard. “I’m not bothered by the opposite characterization at all. It is all to the good.”
He was keenly aware of her intense study of him, and he was left with the impression that she saw him as cogs, nuts, and bolts and was striving to determinehow they all came together to form him. How they came together to form his thoughts, affect his actions. He suspected if he weren’t flesh and blood, she’d have already disassembled him and all the various parts of him would be strewn over the floor. Of a sudden, he had the odd sensation of being not quite put together.
“In striving to be seen as the opposite of him,” she said slowly, quietly as though forming her thoughts as she went, “are you not, in some manner, hiding your true self?”
He didn’t much like her conclusion. What he showed the world was who he wanted to be, not who he was. Yet had he not, through the years, become the opposite of his father, which then made him his true self?
However, his behavior indicated he was not a man who would meet with a brazen woman in a club designed for wickedness. That he wasn’t the sort to bury his face between a woman’s thighs. Yet, here he was, where he shouldn’t be, doing what he ought not be doing because he wanted her to fall apart into a thousand shards of incredible pleasure. Unable to stop himself—with her, why was he always eager for one more moment, seeking out excuses to spend additional time with her?—he caught strands of her hair, glistening from the candlelight, and tucked them behind her ear. “This is not a conversation designed to lead to seduction.”
She gave him an impish smile. “I’ve already been seduced.”
