“That is not appropriate for ladies, Eliza.”
“Why? It’s not at all scandalous. They gloss over the good parts.”
He sighed. “I am deeply concerned that you evenknowof the good parts.”
Still, she laughed. She was not shy of her knowledge. “Live my life long enough and you’ll be corrupted. I’ve stumbled upon things that would make a dockworker blush. I’m not one of your fine, sheltered ladies. I am a woman of the world.”
“Are you indeed?” Mark studied his teacup. He’d been acquainted with worldly women, and had enjoyed a few. But Eliza was frank when so many of her sex prided themselves on flirtation and innuendo—on what wasnotsaid, but subtly implied.
It was a dance Mark knew well, yet Eliza’s shameless honesty reduced him to a stammering schoolboy.
Refusing to take pity on him, she prodded, “So, shall I ask Pearson for more of these raunchy rags…”
He glanced up at her, horrified. Surely, his butler would die of mortification, keel over at the very mention of such publications on a lady’s lips.
Eliza winked at him. “…or will you?”
Mark laughed so hard he nearly dropped his rhubarb tart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sir Mark van Bergen had a laugh that could light up a darkened alleyway. His lips curved, his eyes softened, and for one perfect moment, he looked at her with real warmth.
Eliza’s stomach fluttered. There was that feeling again—the creeping heat that had swept over her when she read ‘The Society of Vice’and dreamed of the arms of a much closer, yet no more attainable man.
She sighed.
Mark’s laughter faded to nothing more than a chuckle as he said, “I’ll send Pearson to buy an armload of magazines tomorrow so that you may pick and choose the ones you like.”
“That seems an awful waste. What will you do with the extras?”
He shrugged. “They shall be your magazines. Do whatever you like with them.”
A week ago, an armload of paper periodicals would have been a rare treasure. She might have used them for a pillow or as rough insulation in a drafty garret. “Tell Pearson to buy every magazine he can find. I don’t mind if they’re for women, or men, or even little children. I promise I’ll put them to good use.”
“Very well,” Mark said, reaching for another tart. “But you needn’t ask me. You can tell Pearson directly. You are a guest here, and it is his duty to see to your comfort. That doesn’t mean simply food and fires, Eliza. Whatever you desire, you need only ask.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
On a whim, he set his cup and saucer aside. “Let me show you something.”
Mark rose to his feet and then helped her to stand. He offered his arm and she clung to it, for her muscles still ached from her thrashing in Seven Dials. Together, they walked the corridor that led toward the rear of his house.
“I forget sometimes,” he explained, “how fortunate I am. I’ve a substantial income, a large and comfortable home, but I’m mainly a creature of habit. My days are dull and commonplace. Yet this must be so new to you. You must think me mad for taking all of this for granted!”
Eliza turned her face to his, admiring the sharp features of his patrician face. The creases in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and the closeness of his shave despite the fact that it was late in the afternoon. The faint dusting of silver at his temples.
She did not think him mad at all.
She thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever clapped eyes on.
He continued talking while she mooned at him. “I don’t think I shall take anything for granted as long as you’re here, Eliza. In fact, there is something special I’d like to show you.” At the end of the passageway stood a door. His hand turned the knob, and in a moment, they were bathed in warmth and blinded by a bright light shining into their faces.
She gasped at the sensation of sunlight, spring air, birds, blossoms, and more buzzing insects than she’d ever seen in her life! Mark had revealed the best gift of all for Eliza—a garden!
***
The private rear garden of Green Street was a verdant and leafy sanctuary amid the brick-faced, bow-windowed townhouses surrounding it. A wooden tea table and a clutch of striped canvas deck chairs sat beneath a canopy of trees.
