Clarissa was a singularly beautiful woman. She had honey-gold hair, large green eyes, and a smooth complexion. That she found herselfpromised to him these past few years was not a fault of her looks, but of her birth.
And it wasn’t her fault he was not quite ready to marry.
He just didn’t really want to kiss her.
And he wasn’t certain why... except he didn’t trust the entanglements of women. Their pursuits were frivolous to him—and, as humans, they could be remarkably cruel.
That didn’t mean he hadn’t had liaisons. Women liked his looks, and a man had needs. He just kept his affairs far from Maidenshop and always made sure he had the upper hand. He had no desire to copy his father, who had made a fool of himself between London’s most famous courtesan and a furious wife. Ned had been an innocent trapped in that triangle and he’d learned hard lessons well.
He also didn’t wish to embarrass Clarissa. Was she wrong to ask for a kiss? Any other man would probably have claimed one long before now.
So he returned to her where she stood, leaned forward, and gave her a peck on the cheek.
She didn’t hide her disappointment and he understood. He’d felt a bit like he was kissing one of his half sisters—although he was fonder of Clarissa than he was of them.
Her gaze dropped to the ground. Her thick lashes fanned across her cheeks. “I didn’t mean like that.” There was a pause as if she struggled within herself. “I wished—” She forced herself to meet his eye. “I wished for a firmer kiss.”
“Why?”
Again, her brows drew close. “What do you meanwhy? Is that not a reasonable request? It seemed time.”
She was right. He had no explanation that made sense.
At his silence, she said, “Whenarewe going to marry? I don’t want to pressure you. I know we arenota love match and you offered for me because the matrons put your back against a wall.”
“It wasn’t that dramatic.”
“Yes, it was.” She started walking along the path leading to the house again. She was wearing a gown of green worsted. The early March wind tugged at the ribbons of her bonnet. “You think I don’t know that Mr. Balfour had refused on the grounds he was a determined bachelor? Of course, he’s changed his tune now and seems happy in his marriage. As for the other suitable bachelor in the parish, the Earl of Marsden, I cannot tolerate that man. He is so selfish.”
“Mars is one of my closest friends—”
She held up a gloved hand. “I mean no insult... although I don’t understand why you or anyone admires him. He really has no purpose in life.”
“He does,” Ned offered weakly although, as of late, there was truth in her assessment.
“You could have said no when the matrons went after you,” she continued. “I would have gone out into the world as a governess or a companion. I could have done that.” She spoke as if she was trying to convince herself, and Ned couldcurse himself because there were times he had wished she had.
Instead, he reached for her arm and swung her around. “That is a hard life and no one wanted it for you. Most of all myself.”Thatwas true. “I know what it is like to be thrust out into the world. Of course, I am fortunate. My studies equipped me to be on my own. But you don’t want to be a companion to some deaf and crotchety old lady. Or live the governess’s life of moving from household to household.”
“Perhaps it would have been better if I had been born male. Then I could have had the opportunities you had.”
She was right.
Clarissa nodded, knowing he understood. “I regret that you have to marry me. It is a burden—”
“It is not—”
She placed her gloved fingers up to his mouth to stifle his dissent. “Please, Ned, let us be honest—”
That is when he kissed her. Ned did know how to kiss and he made this a good one.
Did he feel any great passion? No.
However, she did. Her lips were unschooled and earnest. She leaned in as if hungry for someone, or something.
Ned didn’t take the kiss deeper and she wasn’t looking for it. She didn’t know enough to ask.
His last lover, Emily, a widow in Cambridge, had accused him of being manipulative. The suggestion had upset him. His mother was manipulative. He was just a man with a need, andhe’d thought she’d felt the same. Their liaison had started off as a simple arrangement, and then she’d begun prodding him for more.
