Page 10 of A Most Improper Duchess
‘You picked a poor night to walk with a pretty face. The moon is so hidden, you cannot see it.’
‘Most women are more coquettish about their appearance.’
‘I know it is pretty. There is no reason to pretend otherwise.’
‘It is very pretty… but that’s not why I wanted to walk with you. You looked so fragile, but also, so strong. You are a dichotomy. It intrigues me.’
Vivianne had always weighed men by their worth, their title and value. Their influence within the Palais Garnier. She assessed her future with them in terms of stability, promotion and if they would put food in her belly. Monsieur West had nothing that would help her. Awkward, so much so that he almost didn’t know his own name. Shy. No, not shy… reluctant.
‘If you prefer, you can speak English, Arley. I will understand.’
He huffed a surprised laugh. ‘Another fascinating aspect to Miss Chevalier. How so?’
‘I spend a lot of time with English men. I found it convenient to understand what was being said of me when they thought I was not listening.’ They were closer to the river now, and the slosh of the water against the stones carried louder on the night air. Although he kept hold of her arm, a tension rippled through him, and he bowed his head. ‘You are judging me,’ she said. ‘But you shouldn’t. We are not so different. Both of us are reliant on the whims of dukes. We each pander in our own ways.’
‘I was not judging you. I am confounded by your honesty. It’s not something I’ve come across. I spend my life amongst manipulations and deceit.’
‘Vraiment? Because I was judging you. What kind of man comes to Paris on his friends’ purse?’
He could have taken offence. He should have because she meant it as a barb. His words had appealed too much to her understanding of the world, were too much in symmetry with her own jaded views. This type of intimacy was unfamiliar to her. It both pleased her and sent a ripple of fear along her spine.
Instead, he laughed and bumped against her. ‘Brutal honesty. Why?’
She shrugged. ‘You cannot pay. Pretence tires me. Why waste my energy on pleasing you?’
‘You are failing because I am enjoying your attemptsnotto please me. You are not as clever as you think.’
The ludicrousness caught her off guard, and a laugh, not staged, but from beneath her ribs, burst out of her. What to make of this man? The sweetness of his chivalry, and his light playfulness awoke a nostalgia for her girlish dreams of love, and when those had faded, of companionship.
‘Already we have reached the river, and the Pont Neuf.’ She stroked the wear of his elbow. ‘I think it has been so long since I walked these streets, I have forgotten how short a distance it is. I fear I have overcharged you. But I am without coin, and I am too tired to walk anymore. Perhaps to keep our deal even, I could allow you a kiss?’
‘A kiss?’ He spoke like he was weighing the value of it. ‘You French kiss on each cheek all the time. Why should I pay for something you give away for free?’
‘Notla bise,’ she said, with a laugh. ‘A proper kiss.’
‘On the lips?’ He took a step closer and bowed his head. ‘And you will keep my pin, and the debt between us will be settled?’ he asked. The clouds shifted. Moonlight caught the ripples of the Seine, and their light danced in his eyes.
‘Naturellement,’ she said.
‘And you will not owe me anything?’
‘You will be free to indulge in Paris as you like,’ she replied.
‘And I would not see you again?’
‘There would be no need.’
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up. ‘I do enjoy kissing beautiful women. Especially those with clever mouths.’
He drew close. Mere millimetres away, his breath rushed over her cheek. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. Vivianne couldn’t remember ever being treated so gently. Her heart pattered. She closed her eyes.
‘I don’t want it.’ The warmth of his closeness was replaced with a rush of night air as Vivianne stumbled forward into the almost kiss. He turned with a flourish and crossed his arms over his chest.
Anger and embarrassment fizzed in her belly. ‘You are turning me down?’
‘Your kisses are expensive. I would like to renegotiate our deal. I think, for my pin, I would like something else from you.’
‘You will not get more than a kiss,’ she said, ire flaming as she pulled his pin from her pocket, ready to throw back at him. ‘And you do not get to say where it goes.’
