She looked very lovely in the dim moonlight. Her red lips appeared prominent in the pale glow, and the light showed mysterious sparks in her dark eyes. The pantaloons gave indication of the shape of her legs and thighs. Despite what she thought, the linen of the shirt more than hinted at the roundness of her breasts. He pictured those breasts laid bare, and the thighs spread wide while she entreated him toward the finish they both craved.
She wasn’t stupid, but her caution derived from more than fear of him. She did not trustherself.Unless he was mistaken, she was aroused by sitting in this chamber with him. He rarely made errors on such things. A woman’s desire affected the air, turning it heavy and charged with invisible forces.
He had a choice. Either give her the damned promise, or send her away. He laughed at himself. As if he were going to do the latter. That was out of the question.
“I so promise.”
After a slight hesitation, during which time she peered through the night at him, she sat back and sipped the champagne.
“Your brother has not returned?”
“If he does before September, I will be astonished.”
“He must not like society if he leaves when it arrives, and returns when everyone leaves.”
“He does not dislike it. He can, however, do very well without it.”
“If he does not partake of society’s company, what does he do when alone?”
“Very little besides his scholarship. He is happiest in a library. He is unusual that way.”
“And you are not.” She made it a statement. A knowing one. It sounded like a criticism.Your brother is unusual and devoted to his scholarship, but you are a predictable hedonist who does nothing but indulge himself. A decadent duke.
He wasn’t being fair to her. The scold came from elsewhere. He had heard it often enough, although it rarely referenced his brother. Recently, he had heard it too frequently in his own head. That was Lady Farnsworth’s fault. Damn that journal article.
He pulled his thoughts away from the irritation. “And what do you do, if you cannot partake of society? I doubt you do nothing but sing all day.”
“I write letters. I have a very fine hand. And I sew. I keep an older woman company some days too.”
“Do you have a place with her? The one you fear losing?”
“Yes.”
She was lying, or not telling the whole truth. He could just tell.
“And no,” she added. “I do not live with her, if that is what you meant.”
“Where do you live?”
“Alice cannot answer, because I will not confide in her.” She laughed a little when she said it. “I like having another name here. It is almost like being a different person.”
“I was not prying when I asked. However, I do not like to think of you walking here in the night from the other side of town.”
“Then you should not have lured me to do so. Do not pretend you did not.” She gestured to the chamber, then herself. “And I am here, but you have promised not to seduce me so I am at least as safe as on the streets. What a waste of effort on your part. I say what I said last time—surely you can find a woman in an easier manner than this.”
“Too easy a manner. Hence the fascination with you.”
“If you learn all about me, that will pass. Tell you everything and I will be free of you.”
“Perhaps.”
“Assuredly. Alice is far more interesting than I am.”
“I am sure you have some very interesting things about you. Secrets that you do not share. Desires that you do not admit to. Everyone does.”
She busied herself with drinking her champagne. He stood, bottle in hand. “Allow me to pour you some more.”
She all but jumped when he took a step. “Thank you, but no. Perhaps we should kiss now, so I can get that over with and leave.”
