Jasper knew when a woman welcomed his attention and when she didn’t. But he wanted to hear her admit it. Not because he wanted to embarrass her, but because a woman ought to be able to tell a man what she liked and what she didn’t.
Especially if marriage was a possibility between them.
She hadn’t totally accepted the idea yet, at least she hadn’t admitted to accepting it, but unless Malum worked some sort of miracle, neither of them had much choice.
Not really. He wasn’t about to leave her unprotected, and she had nowhere else to go.
“I liked it.” She spoke so softly that Jasper barely heard her. Even the prospect of marriage couldn’t prevent his satisfied grin.
“As did I.” He lifted his feet and rested them on the opposite bench once again so he could recline.
He’d been attracted to her from the moment she jumped into his carriage. He’d be a hypocrite not to admit that. He had not, however, intended to follow up on that attraction.
When the men who worked for her father had pulled into the yard, it was the best tactic he could come up with. They’d been trapped, and aside from throwing his jacket over her head, he’d had no other option.
But once he got his first taste of her, he had been happy to allow it to go on and on. He certainly wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again.
He shifted and adjusted his breeches.
“Do you kiss many women?” she asked.
There they were, the questions she’d silenced for most of the morning. She sounded less confused—less defeated, and he couldn’t help but feel relieved.
This woman’s moods swung like a pendulum, but with all that she’d gone through over the past day and a half, one couldn’t really blame her. At least she wasn’t crying.
But she’d asked if he kissed many women, revealing an intriguing curiosity.
“I limit myself to one at a time.” He winked.
“I don’t mean… Is that even possible? Do men do that?”
Jasper really hadn’t intended to go there, but since she’d asked. “Some. It’s called menage et trois. Can be two women and one man, or two men and one woman.”
“You are referring to more than kissing.” Her color was high, but she didn’t seem as shocked as he’d expected.
“Yes.” Jasper watched her expression as she contemplated the logistics.
And then her brows lowered. “But you do not practice this kind of… kissing.”
“Generally, no.”
“But you have?” Delicately arched brows shot up again.
“When I was younger.”
This naïve young woman required a few minutes to digest this information and sat quietly over the next mile or so.
When she did speak up again, she surprised him again. He liked that about her. Not many people, males or females, surprised him of late.
“Are you courting any particular lady presently? Is there some young woman who is going to be dreadfully disappointed if we go ahead with it?”
Which proved she had been contemplating his rather unromantic proposal.
If he’d imagined any conversation playing out between him and Crossings’ daughter two days prior, the topics would have consisted of the weather, fashion, and he’d have bragged about his horses. But sometime in the past twenty-four hours, she’d become less of a debutante and more of a…
Person.
The revelation revealed something he would examine in himself another time. Because he’d not really considered the plight of a debutante. To him, and to most gentlemen of his acquaintance, young ladies of the ton were necessities one either avoided or pursued, depending on pertinent issues such as her dowry, family, and looks.
