Page 22 of A Deal for the Duke’s Virgin

The dress clung to her waist and hips, and when she removed the shawl from around her shoulders, he saw that the neckline was perhaps an inch or so lower than was strictly proper, revealing a little softness below her collar.

Clearing his throat, he looked away.

With a soft sigh, Lady Thalia untangled the final scarf and stood before him, hands on her hips. Her red hair hung in a simple braid down her back, with tendrils escaping. A flush clung to her cheeks, probably from the ridiculous layers of clothing, and her spectacles were slightly askew. Christian fought the urge to reach out and straighten them.

“Well,” Lady Thalia stated, “I’m here.”

“So you are.”

“I must say that I don’t appreciate being dragged out of my home at such an hour.”

“You would have preferred a more reasonable time?”

“Yes, I would.”

Christian chuckled. “Perhaps shortly after supper? You might have waved to your neighbors as you skipped over to my carriage and kissed your brother goodbye before leaving. How pleasant.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, of course, I didn’t want to be seen,” she muttered sourly. “That goes without saying.”

“Apparently, I did need to say it,” he observed. “I should like to point out that my reputation would not be helped by your being seen here. Rakes may flirt all they like and consort with all sorts of ladies of dubious reputation, but seducing innocent young ladies with impeccable birth? Unforgivable.”

She cleared her throat again. “There is no seduction involved.”

“No, but you must think about the look of the thing. And the pseudo-engagement you suggested will not, of course, end in marriage.”

She tossed back her hair. “Of course not.”

He tilted his head, eyeing her thoughtfully.

It seemed a fair assumption that the poor girl was terrified. A woman of Lady Thalia’s standing was scarcely allowed to traipse around her own house without a companion. He doubted that she had ever left the house before without a chaperone. Her brother would take her to social events, and a maid would accompany her on walks or outings.

It seemed unfair that young women coming out into Society had their freedom curtailed so aggressively, whereas young men were encouraged to spread their wings further with each passing year.

Not the point, he scolded himself.

“You look a little flushed,” he commented, which, of course, had the effect of making her redden even more.

“I am fine.”

“You are too hot. It is a warm night, and I happen to know that the carriage I sent for you is warm and well-padded. You ought to have some refreshments. Even a glass of water⁠—”

“No, thank you,” she interrupted sharply. “Let me be clear, Your Grace. I am here because I have to be here. This is your request. Every minute I am away from home, I risk being found out. You speak of your own reputation, but let’s not fool ourselves. I am the one bearing all the risk. I want to get safely home as soon as possible, and that means getting this ridiculous errand over with promptly. No refreshments. I shall refresh myself when I return home.”

“Impeccably put,” he drawled, eyebrow quirking.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and angrily adjusted her spectacles. “Enough games, Your Grace. Show me the papers at once.”

“A forthright lady who gets straight to the point,” Christian murmured softly. “I like that in a woman.”

Lady Thalia sniffed. “I could not care less about what you like in a woman, Your Grace.”

“Aptly put,” he said mildly.

While it was fun to stand and exchange witticisms—there was no doubt she had further jibes in her—she was right. The sooner she returned home, the better for all parties.

And yes, she was bearing all the risk. So, instead of shooting more comments her way, he moved over to his desk.

“The papers will not leave this room,” he stated. “If you don’t believe that you can dedicate enough time to their translation and interpretation tonight, we shall have to arrange another time. I am sorry, but I cannot let you take them home.”