He smiled sheepishly. “Everyone knows me for a man of the Town. I cannot deny it, but I am also a gentleman through and through. Miss Waltham must have thought me too convenient an excuse to pass up, but I would never ruin a young lady and then leave her to face the consequences alone.”
He crossed his arms. “If Miss Waltham drags me into the suds with her and, as you said, hopes I die or at the very least I refuse to marry her, then the man she loves can step in like a crusader from days of yore. He will look to be the epitome of heroic self-sacrifice when he weds a woman already ruined by another.”
“By you?” she asked.
Lord Mercer sighed. “Precisely, except I did not.” To her surprise he muttered softy, “But I should have.”
Miranda could not help the little shiver that whisked through her at the notion this lusty satyr regrettednottupping some young lady, merely because he could have.
Taking his measure again, from his impressive height to his thick tawny hair, handsome face, and broad shoulders all the way down to his trim waist and firm, muscular thighs, she came over all hot.
Better not to think of such matters. Instead, she focused on the young lady’s machinations.
“What a clever plan Miss Waltham has,” she remarked.
“You sound as if you admire this conniving wench.”
Miranda considered. “I presume the lady has few options.”
Lord Mercer grunted. “I suppose you’re correct. Regardless, I don’t intend to be one of them.”
“I wonder what the scoundrel thinks of all this.”
“I have no way of knowing his opinion,” Lord Mercer declared, “nor do I care.”
Miranda stepped forward, unable to help her enthusiasm. “But you should, my lord.Hemay be your solution. Why don’t you speak with him?”
He laughed at her. Finally, he stopped and said, “You believe I should speak with the rogue about how he may or may not have ruined Miss Waltham?”
“Yes, naturally.” She couldn’t see why he didn’t think that a perfectly sound notion.
“I suppose now is a good time to tell youheis a marquess’s son.”
Miranda blinked. “And what does that signify?”
“You jest,” Lord Mercer said. “He won’t take kindly to being accused. If he wanted the young lady, he would have stepped forward and made his intentions known.”
“Perhaps he is unaware of her trouble,” she pointed out.
“How could he not know?” Lord Mercer was pacing again.
“Perhaps she has no way to tell him. Mayhap Miss Waltham is being watched like a mouse by a hungry owl,” Miranda explained. “Most females are.”
His lordship crossed his arms and came to stand before her.
“That is precisely how females are supposed to be watched, from the highest-born lady to the lowliest, slovenly housemaid. And that includes you, left to your own waywardness as you appear to be.”
Miranda gaped. “Me?”When had this become about her?
“You are alone with a man considered to be something of a scapegrace,” he reminded her, “and no one is the wiser.”
Lord Mercer took a step closer. “Why are you allowed to flagrantly flout the customs of decorum?”
Miranda felt a shimmer of excitement. “Do you intend to kiss me, my lord? Is that why you moved toward me? It is most exciting.”
She wasn’t surprised. She’d been told she was pretty with something about her that caught a man’s eye.
The baron grimaced. “When you dissect my every action and ask a hundred infernal questions, it is off-putting. And when you forget you are meant to display a modicum of trepidation as any sane female, yet instead welcome the notion of my taking a liberty with your person, then the answer is no. That is not how this is done.”
