Page 36 of Affair

“We could pretend to have become acquainted through a mutual interest in chemistry,” Charlotte said slowly. “We shall say that we met at a meeting of one of the scientific societies.”

“That would account for our initial meeting and for an occasional conversation in public but not much more than that.”

“There is another possibility.”

She was certainly eager to find an alternative, he thought grimly. Obviously the notion of an engagement, even a false one, was anathema to her. “Very well, what is that?”

She slanted him a quick, searching glance and then gazed fixedly at a globe positioned near the window. “We could allow your aunt and her circle of acquaintances to assume that you and I had formed a … a romantic attachment.”

“I would have thought that was the essence of my plan.”

“I meant an illicit sort of romantic attachment.” She turned a bright shade of pink and continued to focus steadily on the globe. “That we are involved in a liaison.”

“Bloody hell. You wish people to think that we’re having anaffair?That’s the most idiotic notion I’ve ever heard.”

Her chin lifted slightly. “It seems a perfectly reasonable notion to me.”

“Not in my case.”

“What on earth do you mean by that?” She turned her head quickly and then her flush deepened. “Oh, dear. Surely you do not mean to imply that you are not interested in females in that way? I always knew that Mr. Marcle had no inclinations of that sort but after last night, I, uh, gained the distinct impression that you did. Have inclinations. Of that sort.”

“I most definitely possess inclinations,” Baxter said very evenly. “But I do not take them into Society.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Baxter sighed. This interview was faring much worse than he had envisioned. “I’m not the sort who conducts his affairs in the full view of the Polite World. To put it bluntly, I’m not my father.”

“I see.” But she looked bemused.

“Charlotte, the people who know me, know very well that I would never flaunt a paramour, especially a relatively young woman who has never been married, in Society. It would be completely out of character, if you see what I mean.”

“I think I’m beginning to comprehend the situation. You are, at heart, a gentleman, sir. It is very noble of you to worry about my reputation, but I can assure you that I am not at all concerned with gossip.”

“You’d bloody well better be concerned with gossip if you hope to continue in your career after this matter is finished.” It was a shot in the dark, but it was all he could think of at the moment.

Her eyes widened. “Good heavens. I had not considered that aspect of the thing. Do you really believe that gossip about a romantic liaison between the two of us could hurt my business?”

Baxter saw his opening and bore down ruthlessly. “Society can be very fickle and extremely hypocritical about such things. You must be aware that the ladies of the ton whom you hope to attract as clients are known to demand higher standards of those they employ than they do of themselves.”

“I see what you mean.” Charlotte studied her hands. “My housekeeper, Mrs. Witty, has told me tales of elegant ladies who have any number of affairs but who would not hesitate to dismiss a maid who got pregnant by the footman.”

“Just so. Such ladies would certainly be reluctant to do business with a woman who has had a highly visible affair with a man in my position.”

“Your position?”

“As I keep reminding you, I’m a bastard.”

“A bastard who appears to be obsessed with not becoming an object of gossip.”

“Perhaps I wish to avoid it because I have lived with it since the day I was born.”

“Yes, of course.” Slowly she sank back down in her chair. “My apologies, sir. I had not considered your feelings in the matter. It must have been difficult for you at times.”

“Let us just say that scandal broth is not my favorite beverage.” He did not like the sympathy he saw in her eyes. He finally gave in to the restlessness that threatened to consume him. He walked deliberately toward the window. “I have had my fill of it for the past thirty-two years.”

“No doubt.”

He braced a hand on the windowsill. “What I told you about myself during our first interview was nothing less than the truth. I am as bland as potato pudding. What is more, I prefer it that way. I have worked hard to achieve a calm, orderly existence that does not require me to go into Society. I have made it a practice to avoid situations that are likely to produce titillation and rumor. I cherish my privacy above all else.”

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