Nor did he, but he enjoyed the way she matched him step for step, and he took up position beside her. “Naturally. What do you discuss instead? The political climate in France? Theincontrovertible evidence that Wellington is the best military leader the country has seen?”
“Oh no,” she said smoothly. “One must never compliment another gentleman during such times. If the man I’m with has military inclinations, I ask for his opinion on matters of war and agree with everything he says.”
“How dull.”
“He does not think so, I assure you.”
“You should entertain more interesting men.”
“You are a fool, darling, if you think I choose my lovers based on the quality of their conversation.” She let the thought sit for a moment, the beginnings of a wicked smile playing around her mouth. “There are only two considerations I take into account. The size of his purse is one.”
He laughed, delighting in her. “Of course. What else?”
Her lashes lowered demurely. “I could not possibly speak it aloud.”
“I gather it’s his size in other areas?”
“Not at all,” she murmured. He caught a glimpse of the bite mark he’d left on her shoulder, and a surge of masculine satisfaction took him by surprise. “I prize generosity. After all, I have extravagant tastes.”
“So you’ve mentioned, but I’m a very generous man.”
She sashayed a little closer, still with that sinful smile on her lips. He longed to kiss it off her. “I hoped you might be.”
“Minx.” He adored it. “May I visit you this afternoon?”
“Did we not say tonight?”
“Let’s say I’m a little eager.”
“Dear me,” she said, her tone teasing, “whatwouldyour future wife say?”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Hard to say, as we are not yet acquainted.”
“Cruel man. May she break your heart.”
“I rather think that unlikely.” He took the book from her hands and flipped it to view the embossed cover. “Is this what you came for? Tell me and I’ll buy it for you. The essays of Alexander Pope are not precisely light reading, but I’m certain you are more than capable.”
“Naturally,” she said, and moved past him for the stairs, where two giggling girls were climbing to the first floor, a stoic footman trailing them. “One thing you will discover about me, George, is that I amalwaysmore than capable.” She tossed a careless smile over her shoulder. “Enjoy your perusal of the classics, Mr Comerford. I will see you tonight.”
All she left behind were the essays she had been flicking through and the subtle, fragrant scent of her perfume.
#
It was unseemly of her to be so excited for George’s arrival. Although she always enjoyed her lovers, it often felt transactional. This, however, felt like an illicit tryst, the kind that young ladies embarked on when they had been utterly seduced.
If it was his body alone, she could have tempered her anticipation. But there was more than that here: she enjoyed his mind almost as much as the time they shared. If she had not her daughter to think of, she would not have expected any return on her time.
She, too, could be generous when she had the luxury of it.
Still.
“My lady,” her maid said from behind the door. “The gentleman has arrived.”
Finally. As she waited for his quick step, she told her traitorous heart to calm and fluffed her hair, looking critically at her reflection. At five-and-thirty, she was no longer in her prime, but she prided herself that her looks had lasted reasonably well—better than she might have hoped at the tender age of twenty. The silken robe she wore drew attention to her breasts and theshadowed dip between them. In the flickering candlelight, the silk also caught on the rounded swell of her lower stomach, and she ran a hand across it.
When compared to the natural slimness of some of her peers, she had once been self-conscious of her plumpness. But as she had grown into a woman, she had welcomed her curves, understood what an asset they were. Now she loved every soft line of her body: her full breasts, the creases in her side, the way her stomach rolled when she bent.
How could one ever be a connoisseur of beauty and not learn to love the soft roundness of the female form?
