Page 4 of A Marriage of Necessity

“A lady should always know what to expect from a gentleman.”

Anne agreed completely.

“A woman as beautiful as you should expect nothing less than a diamond bracelet after an intimate evening.”

She stiffened. He didn’t intend to make her his mistress. He intended to have her for one night, then send her home. With a diamond bracelet, her mind whispered. The situation had grown far more desperate than she could have imagined. Not only had she failed to capture the interest of a suitable prospect for a husband, she couldn’t even interest a man in making her his mistress.

It made no sense. Men had vied for her attention—many, for her hand in marriage—since she’d turned sixteen. Now that she needed to marry, she was avoided. Quite a few men had approached her at Lady Peddington’s first ball—or, at least the first half of the ball, now that she thought about it.

“Good heavens,” she said under her breath. Jeanine was right. Someone had spread rumors about her. She regarded the gentleman. “Where did ye hear these things about me?”

“Men talk—just as women do, I wager.”

“How dare they,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“They’ve ruined my chances of finding the right man.”

“Perhaps I am the right man,” he said.

She surveyed him, his raven hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and long legs, then shook her head. “Nae, you are too handsome.”

He blinked. “I had no idea being ‘too handsome’ was a drawback.”

“It is for my purposes.”

“I promise you, my dear, it isn’t.”

She gave a frustrated shake of her head. “A man like you has no need of a mistress, much less a wife.”

His expression remained impassive. “Are those the only choices?”

She narrowed her eyes. “There you have it. I am correct. You are looking for a woman who will entertain you for an evening and then leave her with some silly trinket.”

“I assure you, I never give ‘silly trinkets’ to ladies.”

Nervous laughter emanated from somewhere in the shadows to Anne’s right, but she kept her attention on the man. “How expensive is the jewelry that you would give?”

He lifted a brow. “Are we negotiating?”

Anne suddenly felt certain the conversation was going all wrong for a courtesan searching for a protector. Still, she said, “Call it curiosity.”

Amusement appeared in his eyes. “Just the other day, I happened to see a particularly lovely gold bracelet and was saddened by the fact that I had no one to give it to. The bracelet would cost me two hundred pounds.”

That meant she might sell it for one hundred pounds, if she were lucky. Her stomach knotted tighter. A man and woman glided past them.

Anne shook her head. “Such a small gift would do me no good.”

His gaze sharpened. “What would do you some good?”

She waved him off. “I have no time to waste when you are offering me a bauble for my trouble.”

“Trouble?” he repeated, then laughed again, this time full, rich and with amusement.

To her horror, warmth rippled through her. He stepped closer. So close, she caught a whiff of the sandlewood soap he’d used to bathe. But unlike Niall, he made no move to touch her, and her desire to step back wasn’t out of revulsion, but a desire to hide the blush that warmed her cheeks. Good Lord, the man was charming.

“I promise ye, my lady, that you will not consider a night with me ‘trouble.’”