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“Nevertheless, I intend a brief farewell.”
Marguerite pursed her lips in a pout. He could not help but compare her wide and thin lips with those of Miss Merrill’s. Parting from Miss Merrill had proved more difficult than he had anticipated—especially as she sat naked in that bed, ready to be taken again. He had considered fucking her one last time, but that would only have delayed the inevitable awkwardness. And he had had a hard enough time looking into her eyes
after what had transpired between them.
“Ah, you offended your lady friend in some manner and she is leaving in a huff,” Marguerite noted. “You will, of course, give chase, prove that she cannot resist you, and fuck her madly in your carriage.”
He swallowed hard, trying not to imagine the scene being played out with Heloise—Miss Merrill.
“I am sending her away,” he explained.
“But why?”
“Because she came in error. She is not suited for Château Follet.”
“Her cries would indicate otherwise. She was enjoying herself—my servants told me they could hear her from down the hall. And, regardless of what Anne Wesley would say, no woman has been known to be dissatisfied in your hands.”
Sebastian let out an impatient breath through his nose. He had little desire to discuss the matter with Marguerite, but she was the hostess, and his manners would not allow him to dismiss her easily.
“The misgivings lie with me.”
“She displeased you.”
He wished that were the case. He wished that he had not found her courage and attempts at boldness endearing. Nor her vulnerability so alluring. Her body so intoxicating.
“She pleased me well enough.”
Marguerite arched her brows. “Pray tell you are not developing a conscience, mon cheri?”
Women. They could be damnably clever at the most inconvenient times.
“She would not think it possible,” he replied wryly, “having denounced me as a libertine devoid of morals.”
“But why would she…? Strange words for a woman who came here to experience the pleasures of the flesh.”
Sebastian could see Marguerite would not relent until she understood the situation. Only women had such propensities.
“She did not come here to indulge her carnal desires,” he divulged, “but to rescue her cousin from ruin at my hands. Her cousin was my intended guest.”
“Mon dieu. She took her cousin’s place? What a peculiar mademoiselle.”
He took this opportunity to raise her hand to his lips. “And now, my dear, I bid you a fond farewell, until next we meet.”
She pulled her hand away before he could kiss it. “But you—you seduced her?”
He felt a muscle ripple along his jaw. “My dear, I see no purpose in furthering this tête-à-tête. My horse has been saddled.”
He turned to leave but was stopped again by her words.
“But why stop now? Why send her away? Does she want to leave?”
“Why so many questions about her?” he retorted. “Why, of the many women who have been through Château Follet, does she merit such curiosity?”
“Because she’s not like the many women who have been here. At least not the ones you have brought.”
“I did not bring her. She came uninvited.”
“Nonetheless, you enjoyed her, did you not?”
