Based on the scars she'd seen on his chest earlier, she was sure he was telling the truth. She wished to ask him about them but felt it was far too intimate a topic. She should remind him, and herself, about his ultimate goal.
"I'm certain you would rather be spending this time with Lady Lily, getting to know her before you marry."
"'Tis not necessary."
She scrutinized his impassive face. "What do you mean?"
"I would've married her sight unseen."
His words astounded her, but she didn't ken why. 'Twas the way of the elite aristocracy, those far above her station. 'Haps it was his blunt honesty she had been unprepared for. "Because she's the daughter of a marquess?"
"Aye."
"Daughters of the upper nobility are premier prizes to be won." She tried to keep the bitterness out of her tone. "'Tis the reason I've always wondered why Baron Grey wished to marry the daughter of a merchant."
"The reason is obvious—your remarkable beauty."
Cyrus's words stunned her speechless. Sipping the whisky, he stared casually into the fire as if he'd commented on the weather. She was unsure whether to be flattered or annoyed. She supposed a person's appearance was as good a reason to marry as wealth. She was starting to think the whisky had loosed both their tongues and 'haps they wouldn't have had this conversation if neither of them had imbibed.
"Or mayhap 'twas my agreeable disposition," she said.
Finally, his mysterious dark gaze met hers and one corner of his lips lifted. "Aye, that could've been part of it."
