She needed to regain the upper hand.
“Indeed.In fact, Lord Leith, I understand that the upper classes have been known on occasion to commit carnal actsduringthe opera.We will be in a private box, yes?”
He clenched his jaw.“Quite.”
“Perhaps you can begin my education during the production.”
He did not look delighted at her suggestion.
“If you remember, Miss Salisbury, I am not supposed to be bedding you.”
Oh, yes.She had forgotten about Lord Montaigne’s stipulation.
“It wouldn’t do to be caught in the act in front of all of London.I do not think Monty or Olivia would appreciate that.”
“Of course.”
But she sensed there was more to his refusal.She wasn’t sure why.
“Very well,” she said, brazenly.“There is always the carriage.”
His hands, already braced on his knees, flexed.
“The carriage?”
“Yes, no one can see us here.Why not begin my education now?”
“I don’t wish it,” he said quickly.“And it is impractical.We are almost at the opera house.”
If anything, he had gone tenser.His body was all coiled power.His storybook features were blunted by his absolute rigidity.
She looked out the window.With the pace of traffic, they had ten minutes, at least.
“We have plenty of time for a quick lesson.”
“I don’t wish it,” he repeated.
“Why?”
“We are too—too exposed.”
His gaze darted to the window.Yes, the curtains were still open.
“We could close them.”
“It’s not that.”
She looked at him.Beatrice wasn’t sure if it was another game or not.She didn’t think so, but she had misread him last time.
“You prefer to keep such things private.”
“Yes.Precisely.”
“So, you have never copulated in a carriage?”
“God damn it,no.”
Beatrice couldn’t believe it.This man was one of the most famous rakes in all of London.And he had never tupped a woman in a carriage?It was strange, indeed.But, perhaps, she had been closer to the mark than she had imagined with her threats.Perhaps, he preferred privacy because his proclivitieswereso depraved.
