Imagine being the sort of person who wasn’t even a little nonplussed by happening upon unexpected fornication, complete with buttock smacks.
“Doubtless it’s more picturesque whenyoudo it.”
He went dead silent and abruptly still.
She knew a surge of deep satisfaction at robbing him of words. He wasn’t the only one who could be unexpected.
“Probably not,” he finally said smoothly. “I’m sure it depends on the angle at which it is all viewed. Or the perceived attractiveness of the participants.”
She closed her eyes. “Oof,” she muttered, miserably.
She opened them in time to find a fleeting grin vanishing from his face.
“I would have thought your legendary prowess would make a difference to how things looked, regardless of the angle,” she countered.
“Mywhat?”
Ginny was delighted at his astonishment. “Prow. Ess,” she repeated, relentlessly emphasizing each syllable.
Which made him frown darkly.
“Who on earth have you been talking to?” He didn’t add “young lady” at the end of that sentence but his tone implied it and somehow that was even funnier.
“Lady Tomelty. Your prowess was the on-dit, she claimed. I did a little research on you before I came to London.”
He scowled, which was a fearsome thing to witness.
Then he tipped his head back. “Giddier than a champagne bubble?” he guessed. “Blond? Pretty as a trinket? About thirty years old?”
“That sounds like her.”
He remained quiet. His scowl hadn’t entirely disappeared. She was reminded of the gargoyles on the roof edge of the Grand Palace on the Thames.
“She shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. At all. Even I know that,” he said almost reflectively. As if he was realizing a few things about Ginny’s shambolic upbringing and recent history.
Which was quite ironic, given that he had recently made her an offer that no man should ever make a gently born unmarried lady.
That nogentlemanshould make, anyway.
The word that adequately captured whatever Marchand was hadn’t yet been invented.
“No, she shouldn’t have said it. But how else would I learn anything about anything?” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’ve met Lady Tomelty exactly once, at a sort of salon. Her husband is a member of Lucifer’s Fall. She has no firsthand knowledge of that or anything else about me, and that includes prowess. This I swear on my life. So I’m not certain what precisely you’ve learned.”
“That such a thing as prowess exists and that some people consider it a good thing.”
He smiled faintly. “Touché. It’s notunimportant information.”
“Rather disappointing to hear that the prowess bit about you is not true and you’re another grunty scrabbler like our friends in the other room, however,” she said sadly.
He went rigid again. Clearly thunderstruck.
Ginny was enjoying herself now.
And then amazement, hilarity, and a fairly serious warning not to trifle with his dignity mingled in his expression. One got the sense that Mr. Marchand was seldom truly taken aback, let alone crossed.
She knew the most ridiculously delicious triumph. Startling him might really be her only line of defense against his intimidating aplomb, even if it was probably unwise to test her luck and his patience.
