Her eyes flew wide. “Horrid creatures. I don’t like them at all.”
Mantis countered. “But they don’t attack humans.”
“I know of at least one particular mantis that does, in fact, attack humans.” She held up her hand, her pointer finger extended. “The devious creature latched onto me while I was picking flowers. Not at all as harmless as they appear. You think they are like leaves or butterflies, but I assure you, they are quite the opposite.”
He refrained from laughing, just barely. “I’m sure he attacked you on accident. He must have felt threatened since they normally show surprisingly sophisticated discernment when they hunt. Although…” He grimaced. “The females are known to practice cannibalism.” He shot her a sideways glance.
“Just the females?”
“It is part of their mating ritual.”
“You are telling me that they eat…? That’s disgusting.”
“Only the ladies, though.” He was rather enjoying her reaction.
“Please, stop.” But she was smiling. He would not add that she’d practically taken his head off when he’d offered marriage after—
Best to stop while he was ahead.
Instead, he covered her hand with his. “So, you don’t hate me then, just the insect?”
“I do not hate you. I do hate the bug.”
He’d never seen this side of her. Stubborn and… cute. He ought to have realized there was a good deal more to this woman than what she presented to the world. Wasn’t that true about everyone?
“Then you must call me Axel.”
She stiffened and he wondered if she, too, was recalling how she’d gasped in passion, all but chanting his name…
“Only in private,” he added, although that may have made her even more uncomfortable.
“You said your family calls you Manningham.” It was one of the first times she had willingly mentioned anything about that night. “But that you don’t like it.”
“I don’t.” He didn’t expand on his answer because his family was… complicated. “Believe it or not, no one called me Mantis until Blackheart did. Many of the kicks and grabs we use while sparring, in fact, originate from the bug.”
“You’re joking.”
“No,” he laughed.
“It’ll have to be Axel, then. However, I don’t know that I’ll have many opportunities in the future. You must be leaving for London soon?”
“That depends. You still intend to be in Mayfair for the season?”
“Yes.” She exhaled a long sigh. “Will your family be there?” She would discuss his sister, the world of insects, everything but that which stood between them like an elephant.
He stopped, wanting—no—needingher full attention. “Felicity.” He grasped both her hands. “Please. I… I realize that I am not Westerley. I’m not the man you love. But Iamthe man who’s taken your innocence, and I cannot reconcile that with the idea of…” he shook his head as he searched for the right words, “leaving you unprotected.”
Because as a single woman mingling with Mayfair’s elite, despite what she’d told him, bachelors would court her. And, he knew, it was possible she would answer another proposal differently.
However, many gentlemen would not appreciate that she had… experience, and if their indiscretion was ever exposed, it could be more than a little troubling for her.
And damn his eyes, he could prevent such a scenario. He stared at her with all the determination he felt. She would eventually consent to be his viscountess, ultimately his countess. She would be hiswife.
As though reading his thoughts, she straightened her spine, stiffening even more than when he’d asked her to call him Axel.
“You are kind,” she began in an almost cold voice. Felicity Brightley excelled at inserting distance when she was feeling threatened.
“Damn it, this isn’t about kindness.” He realized a moment later that swearing likely wasn’t the proper way to go about proposing marriage.
