The words were said in such a quiet voice, David barely heard them. “On the one hand, I don’t regret it—I have experienced situations no other man here in England has had,” he replied.
“Beautiful women, I suppose?” She couldn’t help the tinge of jealousy she felt at the thought of him with exotic women in faraway lands.
David gave a start. “What? No,” he claimed as he shook his head. “I mean, there are beautiful women there, but none I was interested in,” he said.
“Did you bed any of them?”
His eyes rounding in shock, David regarded her with disbelief. “Rose,” he scolded.
“I’m merely curious,” she said. “I hear Turkish women learn how to make love to a man as part of their education. Is it true?”
His mouth opening and closing much like a fish, David struggled with how to respond. “I’ve heard the concubines in a harem learn those skills, but I don’t know about the rest,” he stammered.
He knew about those skills, but not because he had bedded one. He had been in the company of a concubine for an entirely different reason, though. One he hoped would help him when it came to bedding his future wife.
“Did a concubine make love to you?”
He shook his head. “No.” He rolled his eyes. “Ziyaeddin offered me one once. One who was apparently still a virgin. But I refused as politely as I could.”
Rose regarded him with disbelief. “Why?”
He inhaled softly and then said. “Because she wasn’t you.”
Rose stared up at him for the longest time before she blinked. He had her in his arms a moment later, his lips capturing hers in a soft kiss. “I wish I could make love to you this very minute.” He glanced around, glad to discover no one had paid witness to his public display of affection.
“You’re going to have to propose marriage for that to happen,” she warned in a whisper.
He grinned. “As a duke’s daughter, aren’t you the one who has to propose marriage to me? Seeing as how I’m merely the son of a viscount?”
About to agree, Rose remembered hearing that Elizabeth Carlington had been the one to propose before she married George Bennett-Jones. She scoffed. “David Bennett-Jones, if you think for one minute you’re going to receive a proposal of marriage like your father did, well...” She inhaled and displayed an expression of indecision.
What if someone else proposed during the Season? What if there was someone else who wanted to marry her? If she accepted the proposal and later changed her mind, her chances for another betrothal would be even less than they were now.
Despite her obvious annoyance with him, David hadn’t left her at the fountain or on the dance floor. He had accepted every scolding word she had said as if he had already said them to himself.
Memories of the night before flitted before her mind’s eye. Memories of his kisses. Of how he had held her. Of what she had dreamed about him early that morning.
“Well, then, I suppose you are going to,” she said in a whisper, realizing he really believed she had to be the one to propose marriage. “Will you marry me?”
David blinked as a chuckle escaped. “Did you... did you just propose to me?”
“I did, but your window of opportunity to answer is closing very quickly,” she warned on a huff.
“I will,” he replied, his look of awe remaining for several seconds. “I will marry you. Yes,” he added, his look of shock still evident.
“What is it?” she asked.
He inhaled. “I think I’m in love,” he whispered.
Rose slapped a glove against his shoulder as her eyes rounded. “With whom?”
Blinking again, he finally chuckled. “With you, of course.”
Grinning in delight, Rose slapped him again with the glove. “You’d better be,” she warned before he once again pulled her into his arms. “Don’t tell Adeline,” she said after a moment.
“What? Why not?” he asked, placing a hand at the edge of her cheek.
Rose glanced away. “She’s determined to see to it that Ertugrul court me while he’s here in England,” she explained. “She seems to think that we should marry.”
