Unable to think what to say to such a gift, Rosanna stood there, mute and staring at him. “You bought me a phaeton?”
“If there is one thing my father taught me, it is to not scrimp on a gift when your lady’s anger is piqued,” he replied with a hint of his rascally grin.
“That is far too grand,” she said with a shake of her head. “I cannot accept. It wouldn’t be right.”
Mr. Tate waved an airy hand. “We can come up with some story to tell people so as not to raise any eyebrows. I damaged yours while driving you about—that isn’t far from the truth, after all.”
Hearing him casually toss out another half-truth was hardly reassuring at that moment, but Rosanna was hard-pressed to give much thought to it, as her family needed the replacement. However, as much as she tried to tell herself it was only her family’s well-being she was considering at that moment, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of warmth burning in her chest at the thought of him giving her such a mighty and expensive offering.
The generosity was staggering, and Rosanna couldn’t help but imagine what her future would be like as Mrs. Tate. Not that the gift signified anything binding between them, but only a fool would overlook the meaning behind the action. Mr. Tate was not declaring his undying affection, but his feelings were more than merely playful. A man did not give such a lavish gift if he was uncertain.
Courtship led to marriage, and one could not consider one without the other. So, Rosanna couldn’t help but see the possibility. The thoughts she hadn’t allowed herself to indulge in came out in full force, growing even more majestic and grand than when she’d believed him to be merely Mr. Malcolm. Considered in a cold light, a marriage to Mr. Tate was a good match. But more than his money and income, Rosanna truly esteemed the gentleman.
Liked him, even.
Surely such a gift was significant. Something she couldn’t overlook.
“I am sorry if your pride was bruised by my actions, Miss Leigh.”
Those words were like a bucket of ice water, and she straightened, her spine growing rigid as she stared just beyond his shoulder, not meeting his gaze. Rosanna had heard many of those iterations over the years from gentlemen too full of their own self-importance to ever admit fault. He wasn’t apologizing for his behavior. He simply regretted that she was upset, implying the harm and hurt was all of her own doing—not his.
And another realization came quickly on its heels.
Had she truly been on the cusp of forgiving him simply because he’d presented her with a lavish gift? Expensive though it may be, the carriage was naught but a way to step around his culpability and blind her with his wealth. And she had been so ready to accept it.
Was her pride worth so little?
Good heavens. Had she learned nothing in the past year? So quick to be swept up in a wealthy man’s pride if he simply dangled enough money before her?
With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. “You are the first lady who has shown any preference for me regardless of my wealth or status. You cannot comprehend just how infuriating it is to be viewed as nothing but a prize to be won.”
Though the past few moments had doused the fire in her chest, those words were like throwing oil atop the dying flames, and they leapt to life once more. Her eyes snapped over to meet his, and Rosanna fought not to raise her voice, though the pressure in her chest pushed her to shout.
“Ah, yes. I am merely a woman who could not comprehend what it is like to be valued for only superficial reasons—”
“That is not what I mean, Miss Leigh.”
But Rosanna was beyond hearing him or his excuses any longer.
“Oh, I could never understand how difficult it is to trust that my beau cares for me as more than merely an ornament on his arm, to parade about like a prize. Only men with fat pocketbooks know what that is like because only women are mercenary when it comes to marriage. Men prize love and respect too much to stoop to marrying for beauty and their wife’s ability to look good at parties and balls. To say nothing of dowries, which men have no interest in. It is merely tradition. That is all.”
The more she spoke, the more her tongue loosened, drawing with it a snide tone that she had never truly employed before. It was something more akin to one Prudence might use, and Rosanna understood why her sister enjoyed that flippancy. It was quite gratifying.
“Thank you, dear sir, for opening my eyes, for otherwise I would never have known just how difficult it was to be you. I was a fool for being disturbed by your tricks and falsehoods. I ought to be honored that you deigned to test me,” she said, her tone taking on a saccharine quality as she blinked at him with wide eyes and a simpering smile.
Mr. Tate sighed, his shoulders dropping. “You have made your point, Miss Leigh.”
Rosanna’s gaze narrowed at his long-suffering intonation. “Clearly not. Do you have any idea how insulting your behavior has been? Testing my loyalty as though you are such a great prize that I must prove myself before you will deign to be truthful with me, despite having done nothing to earn your distrust.”
She jabbed him in the chest with a finger, her muscles tightening as her anger burned through her.
“And now that I’ve discovered the truth, you think an expensive gift will make me overlook how you’ve behaved. For someone so keen to catch yourself a bride who isn’t dazzled by your income, why would you believe I’d swoon over such an extravagant display and ignore the fact that the honorable man I admired is a liar? Which do you want, Mr. Tate? To win me over with your money or for me to care for you as a man? Because I can say right now, I am not interested in either.”
With a furrowed brow, the gentleman opened his mouth as though to speak, but Rosanna continued over him. “Do you know how much your lies have pained me over the past few weeks?”
She paused and scoffed. “Why am I even asking such a thing? Of course, you haven’t considered the effect it had on me. You were only thinking of yourself and what you had to gain, never considering that your deception hurt me again and again.”
Turning away from him, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before facing him once more. “In all honesty, I did like you, Mr. Tate—from the very beginning. And it has been agony to know I finally found a man whom I respected—a man I could call a friend as well as an admirer…”
