“How so?”
“Being a woman of normal intelligence, I am bound to ask myself what a duke wants with a woman like me. You are attractive enough to be able to get most any woman to drink wine with you if you have a calling card like that. Or have all the fashionable women decided you are too conceited?”
He wanted to laugh. Instead, he drank. “Attractiveenough, am I?”
“More than passable to most. Which I, in turn, am not. Hence the question I ask myself.”
“Do you want me to object and say you do yourself a disservice, that you are far more than passable?”
“I would not mind. However—a woman knows the truth of that. We love the flattery, but we know.”
“I will answer your question honestly. This duke finds you refreshing and far more than passable. Also different. A mystery.” And a challenge, but no need to tip his hand on that. “I have now told you who I am. Will you return the favor?”
She looked at her wine, then at him. She shook her head.
* * *
Drink, damn it. Less talking and more swallowing.
She had seen the empty bottle when she’d entered and realized that fortune had smiled on her again. He had to be well into his cups already. A bit more and he hopefully would fall asleep before she had to succumb to his seduction.
She had accepted before she pursued his brother that she might have to give herself most literally to the effort to save her mother. She had told herself that it probably would be no worse than the last time with Steven, when she had known what he was but had not yet left him. It had been enlightening, that last night. There could be pleasure even without love, it turned out.
No matter how it would be, however, she would prefer not to do that. She had even come here last night to see if she could gain access another way. Like Sir Malcolm’s house, however, this one’s garden doors were barred and the lower windows locked. Short of breaking panes and mullions, she had no way in.
Now she hoped this duke would doze off before the act, and she would not need to agree to the act itself in order to get him to fall asleep.
Either way, she wanted him sleeping soundly by midnight.
He poured additional champagne into his glass. He drank more. Then he settled back into the divan.
“There are refreshments over there, if you would like some.” He gestured to a table near the windows.
She rose and ventured over, mostly to use up time while he drank. Berries, tarts, and cream in silver bowls waited. “Strawberries. They look delicious.”
“They are delectable with the cream.”
She picked one up by its stem, dipped it in the thick cream, and bit. Juice ran down her chin. Her host had thoughtfully included napkins, and she hurriedly made use of one. She resisted the temptation to eat more when she noticed he watched her every move.
She retook her seat quickly. “Thank you. That was as good as it looked. So few things are.”
“More criticism of sumptuous meals? You are an exacting woman. You should have more. I will gladly help so you do not soil your shirt.”
“That would suit your intentions neatly—feeding me berries laden with cream. Would you lick off the dribbles, or use the napkin?”
“You have an inventive mind. The licking part, which I had not considered, enthralls me now that I consider the possibilities.”
“Shall we speak of something other than food so you can recover?”
“If you insist. You can explain a simple thing to me.”
“Simple questions suit me since I am a simple woman.”
“Hardly. However—what are you afraid of? Whom? You can tell me that without revealing your name.” He gazed at her quite seriously.
The question startled her. She did not think anything about her revealed her fears. She barely admitted them to herself. “What makes you say I’m afraid? That is more humorous than perceptive.”
“Your fear of discovery with me makes it explicit. Also, it is in you. In your eyes. I think I am the least of it. If I did not assault you in the garden, you know I will not do so now.”
