She proved her lack of knowledge by her next question. “A brothel is a place where men buy women. Am I right?”
Rented, rather, but the more accurate term sounded disgusting. “Where men buy the right to be intimate with one of the women,” he corrected. One or more, but there were surely limits to how much Cilla needed him to disclose.
“How does a mistress differ from a lover?” she wanted to know.
How did we come to be having this discussion?Drake could feel himself blushing. “One is obliged to pay for the time of a mistress, and probably also her housing and her servants. One understands that a lover will be receptive to gifts, but it is notso much of a contractual arrangement.” Thinking of some of his early experiences, he added, “In fact, sometimes, when the lady is the wealthy one, the gentleman receives the more expensive gifts.”
“Define ‘temporary liaison’,” the lady demanded.
Ouch. That was a tricky one to explain to an innocent. “Um… an agreement to be intimate with no expectations beyond the single encounter?” Or a single night or a few days. But, once again, she didn’t need those details. He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable, and Wintergreen would be entitled to shoot him if the man knew what Drake was saying to Cilla.
“I see,” said Cilla, without explaining what she could see.
Drake, shut up. You are not doing yourself any favors.
“I think this is my last question,” Cilla told him. “Then it will be your turn. Do you think you shall keep a mistress or take a lover or have liaisons when you are married?”
At last! A question to which he could give an answer she would like. “No. Definitely not. I saw what my father did to his marriages—at least to the one I observed, and I assume to the others—and to his children, by being unfaithful to his wedding vows. I won’t do that to my own family. I have not had any interest in other women since I met you, so perhaps I shall not even be tempted. But if I am, I shall remember my wife, my partner, my friend, my life’s purpose. And so I shall turn away and come home.”
“Hmm,” said Cilla. “Is that true? That you have not had a lover or a liaison since you met me?”
“Yes,” he said.
“It has only been a month, though,” she commented. “And you have been busy.”
Arguing with her would only take them back into the thorny territory of the women he had bedded. Whether or not an actualbed was involved. “My turn,” he said. “For you, what does your ideal married life look like?”
“You said it,” Cilla answered. “Partnership. Friendship. A husband who respects me and listens to my opinion, my ideas, my concerns. I want a man who does something with his life. I cannot understand people like Cousin Jasper and his friends, whose lives revolve around gambling, naughty deeds, silly tricks, and who has a higher status than whom.”
Drake agreed. “It makes no sense to me, either. Nothing they do is of any importance. Are they not bored?”
“But not a man who works all the hours God gives,” Cilla continued, ignoring his comment. “For how can I be friends with a man who is never at home? Besides, I want a husband who spends time with his children. I barely saw my father when I was a child. It was not until Mama died, which was four years ago, so I was nearly grown, that Papa began showing any interest in me.”
“That must have been hard,” Drake said.
“I had Mama and Livy,” said Cilla, with an elegant shrug of her dainty shoulders.
Drake tried not to notice how the shrug pulled the cloth of her coat tightly across the shape of two perfectly-formed breasts, each just the size to fill one of his hands.
“I had Bane,” Drake said. “My mother died when I was three, after a long illness. My father married again when I was four, but my stepmother left me to the servants, and my father was never home. Then Bane came to live with us, when I was ten. It seems to me that he was the first person to ever love me. Perhaps my mother did, though I do not remember. But I had Bane.”
He hated thinking about the lonely years before Bane. Hated it. Hated the way his throat stiffened and his eyes stung. He sucked a breath into his nostrils and blinked rapidly.
Cilla had her hand in the crook of his elbow. She hugged his arm. “You will be a better father than yours or mine, Drake,” she said confidently.
She had called him by his name, which cheered him immeasurably. “I shall certainly try. I know there are worse fathers than ours, Cilla, but I should like to be the kind of father who knows his children and enjoys spending time with them.”
“What is going on here?” The interruption came from Jasper Marple, who had stopped his horse to glare at them from the riding path. “Lucilla? Olivia? What are you doing with those men?”
“Walking, Cousin Jasper,” replied Livy. “A healthful activity. I recommend it.”
“My mother has instructed you not to encourage the Sanderson brothers,” Jasper said, pitching his voice to carry to all the other people who had stopped to enjoy the show.
Bane spoke up before Livy could do so. “We have Mr. Wintergreen’s permission to escort his daughters and their maid, Lord Marple. Lady Marple can have no complaint.”
Marple sneered. “We’ll see what Mr. Wintergreen says when I tell him what I have heard from your older brother about the dissolute behavior that saw you banned from your home, and the sharp business practices and cheating that your brother has uncovered since he has been investigating.”
“Drake and I shall happily submit our records and the names of our business partners to any independent and impartial investigator,” Bane replied calmly. “As to dissolute behavior, you are trusting the wrong Sanderson, Marple. Surprising, given you have attended at least one of his parties. But in front of the ladies, I shall say no more on that point.”
