Would she even believe him? Demetrius wanted to defend himself and explain, but to do so might reveal too much about his past because the truth was the only thing that would explain why he was not a rake, which he was not willing to do.
“If my reputation is such, would yours not be harmed by dining with me alone?” he countered.
Lavinia pursed her lips and frowned. “I suppose, if we were in London, but we are not and I doubt Seaford is aware.”
“I would think you’d be scandalized to know this about me.”
“I am not.”
“Why?” What was she about? The longer they spoke the more he came to realize that he had never seen the true Lavinia until tonight, if this was who she truly was.
It could also be the wine. They were on their second bottle and he suspected that she was not used to drinking so much. Then again, until dinner, he had made many assumptions that had been wrong.
He really must stop assuming anything.
When she sipped her wine and did not answer the question, Demetrius asked it again. “Why does my supposed reputation not scandalize you?”
Color rose in her cheeks and she glanced away before she shrugged.
If Lavinia believed him to be a rake and still invited him into her home, did she want something more from him? Did he dare hope?
Afterall, she was a widow and it wouldn’t be unusual if she missed the intimacies of marriage. Could that be the case with Lavinia, even if she had not enjoyed her marriage?
“You never answered my question,” she said after a moment. “Does the vicar who raised you not mind that you are a rake?”
All he could do was grin. “If he knew, then he would certainly object and likely be very disappointed in me.”
Lavinia leaned forward and grinned. “Then we shan’t tell him.”
Chapter
Seven
Lavinia woke the following morning with a pounding headache and dry mouth. Her stomach was not very settled either and she suffered from signs of anxiety, something that rarely afflicted her.
Instead of rising from her bed she lay back, eyes closed and willed herself to feel better as the conversation from the night before played over in her mind.
It had been such a lovely dinner and then she had accused him of being a rake and confessed to having him followed. Not even Leopold knew, but Demetrius had not seemed to mind. Or, perhaps he did, but wasn’t angered.
He also hadn’t denied her accusation of being a rake.
What must he think of her?
Why had she drunk so much wine?
She never had above two glasses a night, if she drank any at all, but she’d been nervous to have Demetrius for dinner.
Oh, she’d also asked him to call her by her first name, which she blamed on the first glass of wine, which she had drunk more like a glass of water needed to quench her thirst than sipping for enjoyment. This she had done before he arrived and on an empty stomach. She then enjoyed a second glass while they waited for dinner to be served.
Demetrius had been an enjoyable companion at dinner and she could not remember the last time she had even dined with anyone alone. Either members of her family were present, often interrupting, or her husband’s family had shared their table when she had been married. Last night had been pleasant with just the two of them, and she secretly hoped that he did not find a maid of all work so that she had an excuse to keep inviting him to dine with her.
Her only concern now was his reaction to her and her confession about wanting something for herself instead of always doing her duty.
Had he seen her as selfish?
Lavinia was aware that as the daughter of a duke she had enjoyed many privileges. She had never needed anything and enjoyed many comforts. Demetrius had been raised in a humble household and bettered his situation by becoming a solicitor. He likely had few comforts being one of ten children raised by a vicar in a village.
He must think her terribly spoiled, and perhaps she was. But what was wrong with wanting some happiness or enjoyment, no matter how fleeting?
