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Alice bristled. “You think me incapable of such a skill?”
“I was merely startled by your choice of languages,” he said smoothly, recovering his seductive smile. “I see nothing objectionable about you translating some dried-up, boring old texts.”
The Kama Sutra was hardly dry and boring, but he could believe what he wanted.
“I know you must think translating texts an unsuitable occupation for a lady.”
“But don’t you see?” He caught her hand again and stroked a thumb across her knuckles. “This is perfect! If you marry me you may trot across the entire globe and you won’t hear the slightest protest. In fact, I would do my utmost to encourage such endeavors.” He placed his free hand over his cravat. “I swear it.”
She searched his face suspiciously. “You would?”
“Absolutely. I don’t want a wife in London. I’d rather have one in India.”
She considered that for a moment. It sounded plausible. He was such an unrepentant rake that, if he were forced to marry, he wouldn’t want a wife to interfere with his disreputable life.
He waved a careless hand through the air. “Publish dry, scholarly tomes. Found a female colony of bluestockings in the Amazon, for all I care. I can see you are highly intelligent and highly motivated. Go forth, Dimples, go forth and conquer the world!”
This man sitting next to her was conceited, promiscuous, and cared only for his own pleasure, but she sensed he was speaking the truth.
She was even beginning to wonder whether his arrogance masked something more substantial and interesting.
In her years of peer repelling, Alice had learned that a gentleman couldn’t feign respect for a lady. Alice always saw through their feeble attempts to placate her, their belittling “aren’t you clevers” and their amused smiles when she explained the origin of a word, or made a comparison between cultures.
He might call her Dimples, but Lord Hatherly wasn’t threatened by her goals, mostly because they were convenient for him, but also because he wasn’t threatened by intelligent females.
Which was extremely refreshing, and almost made her want to respect him back.
But of course that was out of the question. The man kept dozens of mistresses. Her friend Charlene had been inside Sunderland House once. She’d said there were scantily clad women and poppy-addled poets around every corner.
Still... she’d never considered that a particular type of husband, a disinterested one, wouldn’t be a hindrance to her plans at all.
When Hatherly had stormed into the study, she’d seen him as another hurdle to clear—an impediment to her plans.
Could he be a pathway, instead of an obstruction?
Could marrying him actually be the fastest route to making her dreams come true? A respectable matron could choose to voyage. She wouldn’t be breaking any major societal rules.
Hatherly lightly stroked her palm. “Marry me and sail off into the sunset.”
“You truly wouldn’t care what I did, as long as I left you alone?”
A slight smile tilted his lips. “That’s about the sum of it.”
“You’ll continue having affaires.”
He shrugged. “I’m a man.”
His infidelity shouldn’t concern her. It was exactly the manner of marriage preferred by elegant society; a convenient arrangement, nothing more.
They would be separated not only by a lack of affection but by the distance of mountains and oceans.
His fingers continued stroking nonchalantly, as if by accident.
What he proposed was more freedom than she’d ever imagined.
A lifetime of freedom. A married female could come and go as she pleased. Travel unmolested.
Excitement danced between Alice’s shoulder blades as she thought about all the adventures she could have. The whole world open to her exploration.
