She lifted one shoulder. “You might have comments about its accuracy, or disagree with some of its recommendations and referrals.” She was watching him with those silvery eyes, her gaze so direct that he sensed little could be hidden from her.
“And what would I know of such descriptions?”
This time, she cleared her throat, a delicate sound. “You are an eligible young gentleman, Mr. Beckham, and one with somewhat of a reputation as a man who enjoys life’s pleasures.”
Arthur grinned. “You suspect I have visited these ladies.”
“Such a revelation would not astonish me.” She looked suitably prim and Arthur wanted nothing more than to tempt her smile.
“Well, it should, Miss Carruthers. I have never paid for the company of a lady before, much less for her affections.”
She tilted her head to study him. “Then you are an innocent in such matters? I confess myself surprised, sir.”
Arthur laughed heartily at that and her gaze flicked away from him. “Hardly that.” Was she blushing? He could not quite tell in the dimmer light inside the carriage, which was a shame.
She eyed him while striving to do otherwise, her curiosity impossible to ignore.
“Let me make myself clear then. Such favors have been granted to me without the exchange of financial compensation, Miss Carruthers.”
“Truly? I had no notion that society was so…familiar.”
“It can be familiar indeed, I assure you. It seems vulgar to me, as well as unnecessary, to visit a whore when a widow will so often be just as willing a partner. Such a union can offer other advantages as well.”
She nodded, though she seemingly could not meet his gaze. “Perhaps a widow’s companionship might be less likely to result in an infection or other discomfort.”
Arthur was astounded by this comment and did not know what to say. Indeed, this conversation was most uncommon, and he had not even commenced upon the topic he wished to speak about.
She smiled, just a little, reminding him of one of his cats. “I have read medical volumes, Mr. Beckham. It is clearly indicated that men who hire the favors of certain ladies are apt to experience subsequent illness, particularly in the example of syphilis. I, myself, would wish to avoid any circumstance that might add that ailment to my experiences for it is a most cruel progression of symptoms.” She blinked once. “Indeed, you raise a salient point, for if I ever am to wed, I must find a way to ascertain that my intended will not bring me unwelcome gifts.”
Arthur blinked.
“I can assure you, Miss Carruthers, that I share your view,” he said finally, thinking she might wish some reassurance on that subject before their conversation was completed. “Though that is not the only reason to avoid the favors of courtesans and Cyprians.”
“You do not like that it is a trade for them?”
“No,” Arthur admitted. “I do not. First of all, the company of such females can be an expensive indulgence.”
She almost smiled. “Are you frugal or poor, Mr. Beckham?”
“Prudent, most assuredly,” he said with a smile. “In addition, I think that intimacy should be pursued when there is fondness or affection, even a measure of admiration between the parties. I find that more amenable than a transaction, not unlike the purchase of a cabbage.”
She bit back a smile at that. “A cabbage, sir?”
“A book, then. Any commodity bought and sold without much emotional consideration.”
“A book, I assure you, sir, should be a carefully considered acquisition.”
He bowed his head, ceding to the correction. “A cabbage, then.”
She studied him, seeming to see far more than he might like to reveal. Those grey eyes seemed to be filled with shifting lights, perhaps hiding a trove of secrets of her own. He was tempted in that moment to offer an exchange of secrets with her. He would take a wager as to who might have more. “Do you intend to recommend the merit of love, sir?”
“I think it a fine thing, to be sure, and a wondrous experience. It is not a firm basis for any decision, however, for it is a fleeting pleasure.”
“Ah. I appreciate your endorsement and shall recall it in future instances when such a recommendation might be appropriate. Is this truly what you wished to discuss?”
“No.” Arthur frowned, aware that he had wasted a goodly measure of time. There was something dashedly easy about discoursing with Miss Carruthers. “Are you acquainted, by chance, with Miss Felicia Grosvenor?”
The warmth faded from his companion’s eyes and she sat a little straighter in apparent disapproval. “I would not say that we are acquainted, but I know who she is.”
