The surge of anger gave her strength to step away from those wicked hands. Reaching for her bonnet, she tucked her hair up into it and tied the ribbons so tight she nearly gagged. Locating her shoes, she pulled them on in sharp movements.
“Be reasonable. We both experienced a great deal of pleasure in what we just did. Why should we not do so again when we wish, here in privacy? I will put this house in your name if that makes you happy.”
He spoke as if he was discussing the next meal he would eat, dismissing the fact that she may have hopes and dreams. That she may one day wish to marry. Yes, she would not be taking her innocence to the marriage bed, but people in her sphere did not prize that above all things like those idiots in society.
“No.”
“Can you not expand on ‘no’?” Frustration had him scowling.
“No, I don’t want to be your mistress.”
“Why not? It makes perfect sense. You will be safe and secure for the rest of your life and—”
“And you will have someone to bed when your wife bores you? A woman you can teach to do the things you wish, while your wife lies docile and submissive while you mount her and fill her with your seed?”
“Don’t be vulgar,” he snapped. His hair was a mess from her hands.
Dimity dragged her eyes away from the ruffled locks.
“Vulgar,” she repeated. “If I am vulgar, then you are insulting.” She faced him.
“Insulting?” He scoffed the word, angry now, like her, the lovers they’d been a thing of the past. “I offered to care for you. Many would be grateful for that.”
“I am not one of those, my lord. I do not want to live on the scraps of your affection while you are at home with your wife and family. A dirty secret that one day you will tire of and cast aside.” Dimity would not yell again, even though she burned to do so.
“I would never cast you aside.”
“You did not ask what I want, Lord Raine, only thought of your needs. Perhaps I wish to wed and have a child? Perhaps I have other dreams? To you I am simply a woman whose thighs you wish to slip between and nothing more.”
“My sister would want you settled.” His expression was dark now.
“I doubt she would want me to be your whore, my lord.”
“You are not a whore.” The words were a low growl.
“Forgive me; mistress. So much better, don’t you think,” she said with polite sweetness.
“It is the way in my world,” he said simply, and her hand itched to slap him.
“Just as it is the way that your valet spends hours ironing your neckties and polishing your boots. Just as the staff in your house leave their beds before sunrise and do not seek them again until well after the sun sets, just to ensure your needs are met.”
“I can do nothing about my birth, Dimity, nor about the way things are. I pay people to look after my family. If I did not, they would need to look elsewhere to support themselves and their families.”
She knew it was right but did not feel like acknowledging that now.
“I give where I can. Yes, I have money and a title, but I never take that for granted. You have no idea what I do.” His anger made his words a growl.
“Sitting in the House of Lords with those other fools is not doing something,” she hissed.
“Not all of them are fools, and change must start somewhere. But there is more I do.”
“What?”
“That is not for you to know.”
“Because I am just a servant to you?”
“You are not just a servant to me! Stop putting words in my mouth that are untrue.” His face was cast in stone now. Every inch the powerful nobleman who would not be questioned or censured.
