“You never know.” He gently set the ship back in its original location, allowing his thumb to linger slightly before he pulled away and glanced at her. “You do seem to be getting on rather well with Sir Isaacson.”
She crossed her arms, feeling as though an inquest was coming. “Oh, you noticed that, did you? I suspect you have an opinion regarding the baronet.”
He shrugged. “Why would I?” His dark eyes became intent on her. “But I would caution you against getting involved with someone of the upper classes.”
“Ah.” Constance smiled. “If that’s the case, I’m afraid you’re a bit late for that. I’ve had my share of well-to-do companions over the years. I understand the game they play.”
He lifted a brow. “Do you?”
“Indeed.” She turned away, as the only thing she’d found threatening in several years was her body’s response to him. “It may vary from time to time, but it seldom alters.” Once she felt she was a safe distance, she spun her gaze back to him and added, “Society, especially London society, is full of liars and ne’er-do-wells and while I would like to say it’s none of your business who I associate with, I can tell you that when it comes to remaining in England, that is not necessarily a personal goal of mine. I merely joined Count D’Orsay, his wife, and the baroness because it suited me.”
His gaze never wavered and Constance wondered what he was thinking. But then, maybe it was best that she didn’t know. “I wonder,” he uttered softly, “Considering London is a place you seem to dislike, because you don’t even speak of England with much fondness, I wonder why you truly did return.”
To prove that there is more to me than the ability to spread my legs.
The words nearly escaped her before she caught herself. What was it about this man that, not only made her want to lose sense of reason, but her entire sense of privacy? Never had she allowed anyone to have that much power over her. The moment the door had shut behind her at her mother’s house, she had made a personal promise to herself and had yet to veer from it.
The very thought of her first home, if it could even be called that, as it was so overrun with vermin and male visitors that it was little more than a brothel of its own, was the one place she had always avoided. And yet, even though it gave her cold chills with the thought of returning there, she knew she had to go there eventually, just to lay those old ghosts to rest. However, she wasn’t sure she could make the journey without sour memories rearing their ugly head. She couldn’t even say if her mother was still alive after all these years, but if she was and Constance stood face to face with her again, she couldn’t say how she would react.
She might even allow Madame Corressa to retaliate, as she was ruthless and the reason Constance was trying so hard to be free of her. She could end up like her mother, a ruined shell of a woman, unless she ignored Madame Corressa and her urgings.
She wrapped her arms around herself and lifted her chin slightly, finally answering his query. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.” She headed for the door and opened it fully. She stared into the hallway. “Now I shall bid you good evening, Mr. Blackmore.”
There was a slight hesitation where her heart threatened to jump out of her chest, it was pounding so hard, but she heard the sound of his slow footsteps approaching. But when she waited for him to pass through her line of vision and depart, he paused so close that she could feel the heat emanating from him. “I have just one more question, Mrs. Hartford.”
“Oh?” A tremor passed over her skin and she could feel a slight trickle of perspiration trailing down her spine. “And what is that?”
“Do you intend to sleep in your corset all night?”
Chapter 8
Constance froze. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes slowly traveled down her front and then back up to her face. “When you turned away from me earlier, I could see that you had a considerable knot in your laces.”
Her mouth fell open. “How could you possibly—?”
He offered a lopsided grin. “With the light from the fire, and that thin fabric, it wasn’t hard to decipher that there was a mess of strings underneath.” He lifted a brow. “Or am I mistaken?”
Constance shifted her stance. “Well, no, you’re not, but—”
“Then turn around.” He lifted his hand and used his finger to spin in a circle. “And allow me to assist.”
She backed up a step. “I don’t think so.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell me you’d prefer to sleep in that contraption.” He shook his head. “I never understood the appeal that women have when it comes to wearing such horrid articles of clothing.”
“It isn’t as if we have much choice,” she snapped. “It’s the style that is expected of our sex.”
“And here I was under the impression that you didn’t conform to the rules of everyone else.”
She snorted. “I don’t when it comes to making my own decisions, but fashion is another matter entirely. I would be laughed out of the London ballrooms for donning men’s clothing.”
“I beg to differ.”
She stared at him. “Pardon?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a metamorphosis ball? I understand they were quite popular in Russia and that Catherine the Great held several of these parties.”
