He narrowed his eyes. “Do you mean an engagement?”
After all that, hearing him say it — when she’d had to spell it out for him — was mortifying in the extreme. If he wanted to spend time alone with her and had such intense feelings, then an engagement ought to have been upper most in his mind. Not hers. Or at least, not hers alone.
“No,” she countered to save face. “I suppose I meant...,” she trailed off.
“Well?” he asked, as if he were a barrister interrogating a witness.
“My sister, Mrs. Carson, before she was such, had an arrangement with Mr. Carson. They were ... partners ... in a scheme to find him a titled lady as his spouse.”
Lord Jeffcoat rolled his eyes. “And how did that work out for them?”
“Perfectly,” Charlotte told him. “They fell in love, and obviously, they belong together.”
“Hm.”
That told her nothing of his thoughts.
“If we had an arrangement, something we were doing,” she persisted, “then we could be together without suspicion.”
“No, Miss Rare-Foure, we could not. Besides, what would we be doing together? I am not an estate lawyer. Nor can I build your much-needed staircase.”
She sighed. “Never mind. Why don’t you tell me about that lady at the concert hall?”
He looked shocked again. “An inappropriate topic,” he said.
“I think not. Why won’t you tell me? If you can ask me out and then take me somewhere that I may run into your past paramours—”
“Miss Rare-Foure!”
“Your past lady-friends, is that a better, more civilized term?” she asked. “If you put me in their path, then I believe I have a right to ask. After all, she besmirched me.”
“Besmirched you?” he repeated, frowning slightly.
“She did,” Charlotte reminded him. “I am not so naïve that I don’t know what she meant about why you’re with me.”
His face flushed a rosy color and his glance slid away from her face. She’d embarrassed him.
“It’s all right. I am quite aware of certain of my traits that draw men’s attention.”
He looked as if he might run, so she stopped. She’d developed beyond her sister’s and had been on the receiving end of many a man’s gawking stare. Nonetheless, having a woman, particularly Lord Jeffcoat’s lady-friend, mention her figure had been a new and uncomfortable occurrence.
As if she were nothing more than a large bosom and pretty lips!
“Why did you ask me out again? I know it wasn’t solely due to what your paramour mentioned.”
“My lady-friend,” he corrected stiffly, “and she is no longer even that. She is of no consequence.”
“Regardless, she was rude.”
“She was,” he agreed. “And she was wrong. I like you because you’re interesting.”
Interesting?A shopgirl who made marzipan! Yet she believed him, and his declaration warmed her. “If she is unimportant, then you can tell me who she is.”
“You would make a good barrister, Miss Rare-Foure. Or at least a persistent one.” He folded his arms. “She is Miss Virginia Stadden. I escorted her around town and to some parties for a couple months. However, she is unkind, and after a while, I couldn’t stomach it.”
“I see.” She supposed that answered all her questions. As long as the woman was no longer in his mind or heart, she mattered nothing, exactly as he said.
“You are the opposite. You are kind,” Lord Jeffcoat offered.
