“I was... surprised by your visit to my mother today.”
She started to shake her head. “You and your mother are not connected.”
Leo chuckled and opened the wine. The cork popped dramatically. He stepped back over to the table and poured them each an ample serving of dark red wine. “Tragically, I am connected quite closely with my mother.”
“I meant, in my head. I wasn’t thinking of you when I went to your mother. I was thinking of the fundraising ball.”
Leo nodded, not looking at her. He stared into his wine. “We have to keep this... separate.”
“Separate?”
Now he looked up at her. “You have no intention of marrying again.”
“Goodness, no.” It came out of her mouth before she could think. Marriage for her meant loss of her autonomy. Loss of her wealth. Upon marrying a man, it would become his.
“Nor do I. There is no room in my life for a bride. I mean no offense.”
“Neither do I.” Prudence was baffled. Why was he bringing marriage into this conversation?
Leo nodded, his chin jutting out more than usual. As if this somehow displeased him, even though she agreed with him.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand why we are discussing this? Are we not here for more enjoyable things?” Prudence felt heat rush to her cheeks again. She absolutely was the worst at talking about this.
Leo swirled the wine in his glass and took a sip. “Absolutely correct. Why are we talking about this?”
Prudence picked up her glass and sniffed. The boozy smell of it was still wafting away. This encounter didn’t feel right. She turned away from him, unsure. “If you aren’t hungry, perhaps we can talk instead.”
The lounge area was set with two sofas in an ell shape. They were well stuffed and comfortable. She’d napped on them plenty of times—proof of their softness. She settled herself in the sofa, right at the corner that connected the two pieces of furniture. Leo followed her and sat on the adjacent sofa, closest to her.
“What would you like to talk about?” he asked.
She watched him a moment, observing. His shoes were polished to a high shine. His trousers were perfectly tailored. His coat revealed the exact amount of shirt sleeve at the cuff. His waistcoat was tailored, adorned with the gold chain of a pocket watch. Even the burgundy pocket square of his coat was ironed into conformity. As his mother had proven with her acuity of projecting wealth, this was also a façade. This was a barrier.While he’d managed to step around it yesterday in his office, today it was back firmly in place. “I’d like to talk about you.”
His eyebrows raised, wrinkling his forehead. “You wish to die of boredom?”
She sniffed her wine. It smelled full and ripe, and when she sipped, the taste of black cherries and earth exploded in her mouth. This was a very good wine. “I doubt that would be the case.” She held his gaze. “If you told the truth.”
“Why don’t you tell me the truth about you?” he countered.
“I thought you had researched me. You know everything there is to know. If one would like to die of boredom.”
“I know facts. I know dates and events. I don’t know you.” Leo leaned back into the sofa, relaxing for the first time.
“I don’t even know facts about you, Mr. Moon. I’d like to know some.” Prudence smiled at him, but a genuine one. Dare she say, a flirtatious one? Was she successfully flirting? She hoped so.
“Facts. I can give you facts. You’ve met my mother. My father died some years ago. I attended an elite boarding school on scholarship where I honed my skills at taking money from aristocratic classmates. Repeatad nauseum. Here we are.” He gestured with his hands wide, as if to encompass the world.
But there was something about his face, his tone, that made her think that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Not that he was lyingper se, but that something in his very brief accounting of his life wasn’t accurate. But she’d conducted enough deals to know that there was a price of doing business. And the price here was not questioning Leo about this. There was something he didn’t want to talk about.
She’d seen his face that afternoon when Mrs. Moon had said she would reveal her “secrets.” Leo had gone rigid and pale. There was a secret he needed kept. That was fine. After all, theyweren’t starting anaffair de coeur, this was... a different sort of business. An affair of the body, not the heart.
“I see. Your life story was very brief and to the point,” Prudence said.
“You asked for facts,” Leo reminded her.
“How did you take your classmates’ money?”
“I did their homework for them. They paid me.”
