Damn her heart for taking another leap.
“As I was saying,” he continued, “Harbury’s interest will be noted. And when his interest is noted, you and your sister will see your societal value rise.”
Her gaze snapped back to his face. “Forgive me,” she replied. “I’m not quite following. Do you mean to suggest Harbury’s presence confers some magical, ducal means of improving reputations? Why then does your reputation continue to ail?”
He smiled indulgently, as if he found her ire charming. Charming in the manner of a cute little hedgehog.
The rogue.
“Harbury,” he explained, “is here to improve Cassandra’s reputation, I am here because being seen with you, with your godmother’s approval, improves mine.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“That, my dear, is your most ferocious scowl yet. Possibly the most ferocious I’ve ever seen. You have me quaking in my boots.”
“You aren’t wearing boots.”
Briefly, he lifted his trouser leg. Then, he flashed another smirk. “I stand corrected.”
“You’re insufferable.”
He cocked his head. “A curious conclusion to come to on such a short acquaintance. Doubtless, however, there are some who would agree.”
Resolutely, she returned her attention to the stage.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I am far too accustomed to sparring with a precocious little sister. My intention was to be completely honest with you, not to upset you.”
Honest.
She glanced back at him.
Men rarely were. And yet she’d had two men declare themselves to be so in the past two days. Of the two, she didn’t trust this one in the least, no matter how fascinating his features.
“If I understand you correctly, you wish to use me—or at least my godmama—as a pawn in your rehabilitation?”
“You’ve a ready understanding.”
“Am I to feel grateful for the honor?”
“Grateful? No. But I would be obliged if you were to agree to the scheme.”
“You mean beyond tonight and the visit to the Royal Academy?”
He nodded.
“You expect me to treat the wrong done to my sister as a game?”
“Not a frivolous one.” He studied her face in silence. “I assure you I am extraordinarily aware of reputation as currency. I do not seek rehabilitation for my own purposes, but because how Iam perceived reflects on my sister, perhaps even more so than how your sister is perceived affects you.”
She frowned. “Your concern is not for yourself but for Miss D’Acre?”
He nodded. “Recent events have, ah, shown me how far I have fallen short of my social responsibilities. Emily will be presented next season.” Again, he fell quiet for a moment. “I thought you might sympathize with my plight, if I were honest. I haven’t much time to transform myself from a… rogue back into a gentleman.”
He’d used the same name she’d given him when she’d played the Blackbird, and he’d looked pained. Had their encounter affected him that much?
She studied him.
Possibly.
