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His brows rose but his eyes glimmered with amusement.
“Such insolence can be tamed,” he said almost to himself, then offered her the plate of biscuits. “You will require sustenance to soak up the effects of the wine.”
She hesitated. The wine was giving her courage, but perhaps it was best she had all her wits about her with this man.
“The servants have all retired for the evening. You’ve no need to conceal yourself.”
“You will forgive me if I fail to trust to assurances alone that our transaction, if you will, shall remain private.”
After a moment of thought, he went to the writing table and retrieved paper and pen. After a quick scrawl, he affixed his seal and handed her the note.
“You may redeem this if the confidence of this night is broken,” he told her.
She choked on her tea upon seeing the amount he had penned. Five hundred pounds!
“Do you make such offers to all the women you take to bed?” she could not help asking.
His expression darkened and she regretted her impudence.
“Consider yourself unique, Miss Herwood.”
There was a peculiar strain to his voice. She took another sip of the tea to avoid his gaze. Of course the other women willingly lifted their skirts to him. She wondered if she would have done the same had she not lost to him.
“When do we, er, begin…?”
“Our ‘transaction’?”
“Would you prefer a more romantic term?” she replied archly.
“Not at all. I have always observed you to be practical and devoid of the silly sensibilities and nonsense that permeate others of your sex.”
He had observed her before? Should she be flattered by this? She began to wonder if he had deliberately chosen to sit at her card table the other night.
“We will conduct our matter when you are in full possession of your faculties,” he continued, pouring her more tea, “that you may fully appreciate its aspects.”
She could not help an unladylike snort. “You fancy yourself an accomplished lover, do you?”
He said nothing, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. They were a sensuous pair. For a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by them. She shook herself back to attention, glad the veil shielded her, to a degree, from his discerning stare. The wine was having the damnable effect of making the man more attractive.
“I think you will find the experience agreeable, Miss Herwood.”
“And how do you come to merit such arrogance?”
“You will discover for yourself soon enough.”
She pursed her lips in frustration. She had hoped for a short visit and instead of concluding their business, they were having a tête-à-tête over bloody tea. Setting aside her cup, she untied her pelisse and allowed it to fall from her shoulders.
“Did you not wish to take your pleasure of me?”
A muscle along his jaw rippled as he settled further into the settee. “In due time.”
Tiresome man.
Those with wealth and countenance assumed the world revolved about them. A rush of envy stoked a darker side of her. In the end he was but a man, with base desires no different than a commoner, and she would prove it so. She unpinned her hat and fixed her most smoldering stare upon him. She had witnessed the coquetry of the women who patronized the gaming hell and been entertained by how simply a man could be lured into their gra
sps.
“Have you ever considered becoming a courtesan to relieve your fiscal conditions?”
