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Heloise felt a stab of remorse for speaking harshly, but she had no need for the likes of him to point that out to her.
“I assumed…” she attempted, noticing with worry that the pupils of his eyes constricted.
“Why are you here, Miss Merrill?”
“You would not grant me an audience. And I would have you listen to me. I would have you listen!”
The earl folded his arms and waited. His frown did not diminish.
“If there is a shred of decency in you,” she began.
He lifted his brows. “I thought I was devoid of morals.”
She winced, regretting her earlier words, but there was nothing to be done. She could not retract what she had said, so she forged ahead.
“You have no need of someone like Josephine. Someone of your, well, stature can command any number of other women. Josephine is not worth your time.”
“Rather harsh words for a cousin you adore.”
“I meant—” She bristled.
“I know what you meant, Miss Merrill, but my mind has not changed on the matter since last we met, and I do not appreciate attempts to meddle in my affairs. I wonder that your cousin approves of it, but I take it she does not realize you are here?”
Again, she flushed. “I am here on her behalf, even if she would not approve of what I do. I realize I risk her affection, but I could not stand idly by and watch her demise. She may not know it, but she requires my aid.”
“Noble if not condescending sentiments. Your cousin is a grown woman, not in leading strings.”
“She is young and does not appreciate the arts a man of your sort would employ.”
This time it was he who turned color. “A man of my sort?”
Would he have her explain all to him? Heloise wondered, sensing a dangerous pit opening up before her.
“I think you know to what I allude,” she evaded.
“If by that you mean your shallow view of my association with women…”
Heloise blinked. He was the rake and would yet criticize her character? The man was beyond monstrous.
He continued. “I quite understand people of your sort and how threatened you feel by my enlightened position on the fairer sex.”
“Enlightened? Is that how you defend your wanton ways?”
He clucked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. You make it sound vulgar, Miss Merrill. Why scorn the innate urges, the natural passions of our bodies?”
Her heart began to pound once more. Something in the way he spoke, the rich tenor of his voice, the enunciation—as if he were caressing the words—made her skin warm.
“The rhetoric of one who lacks the resolve to resist the base desires…” she began, but her tone lacked confidence even to her own ears.
He took a step toward her, and despite the lethargy she had felt from her journey and lack of sleep, every nerve in her body came to life.
“Are you possessed of such resolve, Miss Merrill?” he inquired.
His gaze seemed to probe into her past, and she was sure he saw it all.
“That is none of your concern and irrelevant to the matter at hand,” she said quickly.
“You made it my concern when you chose to meddle in my affairs,” he replied grimly, advancing another step.
