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Perhaps once he’d given her an introduction to Society, she would fly on her own, without any further help from him.
“Well, if that is all, we’ll go.” Benedict said, nodding towards the carriage.
They had been driving for a few minutes before Rosaline spoke.
“Iwill pay you back, Your Grace.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No, you won’t. It’s a gift. For our courtship.”
Poor Margaret had been relegated to sit beside the coachman and hold some bandboxes, to make more room in the carriage. That meant that they could speak freely, thank goodness.
“But it isn’t real.” Rosaline blurted out. “Our courtship, I mean.”
Benedict shrugged. “In the eyes of Society, we are. We’re all but betrothed, in fact. I am known to be an upstanding gentleman, who sticks to his commitments. Even though we are not really engaged, I intend to make it convincing. Besides, your wardrobe really is abysmal.”
Benedict glanced briefly over Rosaline’s figure and wished he had not. She had a good figure, and now his mind was dwelling on what was underneath her clothes, and he wished it was not.
“Imust still pay you back.”
“How? Do you want me to take the money from your fee to pay your debt?”
Benedict wished had hadn’t said those weighty wordsfeeanddebt. The truth was, he had a fairly good idea of how Rosaline could repay her debt.
In my bed.
That idea felt wrong. Paying a debt like that made Benedict feel sick, and he was angry at himself for even considering it.
Rosaline lifted her chin.
“Yes.”
“Well, I shan’t. Just accept the clothes. Besides, you can pass them on to your younger sisters, can’t you? They are an investment, think of it like that. I can’t have my faux fiancé looking like a ragamuffin, can I?”
Rosaline didn’t smile. “I don’t like it.” she stated. “It isn’t fair on you.”
“It isn’t fair on you, either.”
“You have plenty of money for these things, though.”
“Miss Wyre, you and I both know that people like me are only rich at somebody else’s expense. Those born into wealth have the ruthless and – dare I say it – cruelty and criminal behavior of their ancestors to thank. Somebody else must be exploited for a person to become rich. If I didn’t do the exploiting, then my father did, or my grandfather, or my great-grandfather. Trust me, Miss Wyre, no person as wealthy as me could have earned it by honest means.”
Benedict took a breath after his little speech. He’d never dared say such a thing in public. Saying that none of thetondeserved or had earned their wealth would get a person lynched, true though it may be.
Rosaline said nothing for a long moment.
“Very well.” She said eventually. “But you must promise not to pay for anything else on my behalf.”
“Iwill promise nothing of the sort.” Benedict leaned forward through the boxes, taking Rosaline’s hand. She flinched but did not pull away. “You are essentially betrothed to me, even though it is a façade. As such, I shall take care of you as I would a real fiancé. Don’t worry, Miss Wyre. I shall pay for everything, and you will not owe me a thing. It is my part of the bargain.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Oh, that was another thing. We should dispense with “Your Grace”.”
Rosaline frowned. “But it’s proper.”
“Not in private, not for us. I intend to call you Rosaline.”
“Well, what should I call you?”
