Did they do that?She wondered if she could ask him about how the male member behaved when he was alone. Most certainly it wasn’t always like a blind man’s staff when uncovered.
“Every time I thought to go to sleep, that mutt began barking,” Philip explained.
She smiled sheepishly. “That was my fault. Stepping over him. Twice! I believe he’s there to guard us.”
“Guard us?Ha!Then why did he let a drunken man accost you?”
She waved his question away. “I was downstairs when it happened. More to the point, why did he let you sneak up on me?”
Philip frowned. “I didn’t sneak up on you. You didn’t hear me because of the dog.” He was digging in the pocket of his coat draped over the only chair in the room. Drawing out a silver flask, he opened it and handed it to her.
“Is this your own stock?” She sniffed it.
“Naturally. It is my hope that gentlemen all over the British Isles will shortly be imbibing my superior brandy. Go ahead and taste it.”
“I confess I don’t have much to compare it to, being more apt to drink a glass of wine.” But she raised the flask to her lips and sipped.
Smoother than she’d feared, while warm going down the back of her throat, it didn’t make her want to choke. Still, she couldn’t help a small cough and covered her mouth politely.
“Very pleasant,” she told him before taking another sip and then another. By the fourth one, the brandy was relaxing her already. As she returned the flask to him. their fingers touched and she shuddered.
“Have you spent many nights in inns with married and single women, or do you usually reserve your amorous escapades for doxies in the finer brothels of London?”
He shook his head. “You cannot ask me such a thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because I say you cannot.” He took a sip of the brandy, closed the flask, and put it away. She watched all his actions, the way his hands moved and the way his muscles were outlined against his silk dressing gown. He was the most magnificent male she could imagine, and all too quickly, they would no longer be in each other’s company.
“How will I learn the ways of men?” she wondered aloud.
“You don’t need to learn the ways of men. You need to get a husband and learn only his ways.”
Sighing, she sat heavily upon his bed and yawned. “That seems a most backward way to go about things. Marrying someone first and then discovering what he is like. What if I marry an absolute arse?” She chuckled at the word, then realized it wouldn’t actually be funny.
“I might end up belonging to a man who abuses me or won’t let me see my family or who visits me only to beget children but spends all his time drinking and whoring.”
Looking decidedly uncomfortable, the baron crossed his strong arms and leaned against the wall.
“Your imagination is running away with you. Your father will determine the character of any of your suitors who ask for your hand, and assuredly, he’ll investigate into the man’s past as well.”
“I suppose.” She traced her hand across the rumpled counterpane. “And whenyoumarry, will you give up all other women for your wife?”
Feeling as if she could fall asleep right there on his bed, she stretched out on her side, resting her head upon her hand. Suddenly, she was tired enough to curl upon the floor and fall asleep, just like the dog. She giggled.
“Miranda, you must not stay here any longer.” His words were serious, even gruff.
“But the door is open. Hence, we are obviously being perfectly proper. Perfectly, properly proper. Try to say that three times as quickly as you can.”
He remained silent, looking like a man battling with demons, what with his gaze darting over her and a small muscle twitching in his clenched jaw.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out.
“Luckily, I’ve forgotten it.”
“I have not. Will you be a brute to your wife?”
“Of course not!”
