He cleared his throat and gave a slight shake of his head.
‘Very well,’ she said and looked to Cassie. ‘You needn’t worry that I will speak to you, should we meet again, Miss Fisk. As far as thetonis concerned, we have never met.’
Then, before she could decide whether to offer thanks or objections, Sebastian had unlocked the door and let Miss Wilson out into the hall. He shut the door again, and they were alone.
He did not lock it again, instead going to the front window and moving the curtain, peering down into the street to watch Miss Wilson’s departure.
Cassie glanced at the exit, only a few feet away. If she wished, she could be out the door and down the stairs before he could do anything to stop her. Once outside, she would have to flag down a hackney and hurry home before anyone had missed her.
She looked back at the Duke.Sebastian, she thought, and could not resist a small smile. She had made her decision about him before she’d arrived at Hyde Park. She would not run away now.
He turned back to her and smiled. ‘May I offer you refreshment? Tea? Lemonade? There is a tray made up in the pantry. Or perhaps, something stronger.’
‘I thought you said the apartment was unoccupied,’ she said, furrowing her brow. ‘You seem rather well-prepared.’
‘I have a woman who keeps it clean and ready, should I need it without warning,’ he said. ‘I wrote to her that I would be entertaining this afternoon.’ He paused. ‘She is long gone, by the way. We are all alone.’
‘How convenient,’ she said, watching him. Then, she glanced around, examining her surroundings. If this was a den of sin, it did not disappoint. The walls were enamelled a dark green, and the furniture consisted of several couches in leather and velvet, accompanied by small tables just right for a glass of wine or a plate of hors d’oeuvres to nourish lounging lovers. On the wall above the fireplace there was a gold-framed print of a naked woman, climbing into a bath.
‘Who is that?’ she said, pointing to the woman in the drawing.
‘It is supposed to be the Prince Regent’s mistress,’ he said. ‘But I do not think it looks very much like her.’
‘I hope you are talking about her face,’ she said, giving him a dubious look.
He laughed. ‘Yes. Her face. But I will say, the rest of her is attractive enough to attract a king.’
She stared at the picture, again. ‘I have no opinion on that.’
‘Well, I am something of a connoisseur,’ he said, stepping closer to admire the picture. Then, he glanced at her, as if comparing. ‘There is something to be said for a woman with an air of mystery.’
She glanced down at her gown and wondered if she was dressed appropriately for the occasion. Miss Wilson had not looked as she’d imagined a Cyprian would. Her walking dress had been tasteful and expensive. Cassie felt rather dowdy incomparison. The rose-coloured spencer she wore over her muslin gown had little ornament other than the stick pin and was at least a Season old. But when she looked back to Sebastian, he was staring at her as if he could see through the wool to the skin underneath.
She resisted the urge to cover her breasts with her hand. ‘There is nothing particularly mysterious about the human form. You have likely seen enough of them to know that they are all fundamentally alike.’
‘And yet, all delightful in their own way,’ he said, smiling. ‘I once knew a courtesan with a wooden leg. It did not diminish her beauty in the slightest. A very talented woman, as well.’
She gave him a dark look.
‘She played the harp,’ he said, blinking innocently.
‘You did not bring me here to talk about music,’ she said.
‘No, I did not,’ he said, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. ‘I brought you here because I wanted to assure you that my meeting with Harriette at the theatre was innocent. I was afraid you might have misunderstood.’
She nodded. ‘You have done so. Was there anything else?’
‘I have been honest,’ he said, holding out his open hands. ‘In exchange, I want the truth from you.’
A thrill went through her, as it always seemed to when he got too close. If she was honest, as he wanted her to be, she’d felt a strange pull at her heart the first time she’d seen him lying naked and bleeding on his bed. It had only grown, since.
He sat down on a velvet divan on the other side of the room, looking across at her and his smile vanished. ‘I have thought of nothing but you for months now. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep.’
She snorted. ‘You look both well-rested and well-nourished to my eyes.’
He shrugged. ‘An exaggeration, perhaps.’
‘And you wonder why I have trouble trusting you,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You cannot go two minutes without telling a lie.’
