Page 43 of Pride: The Rogue
Add barrister to the other potential work the lady would be deuced good at.
Latimer took his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Very well, darlin’. No titles then. What can you share about yourself Livian Lovelace?”
“As I said, there’s nothing really interesting—”
“And asIsaid, how about you let me be the one to determine that.”
Livian hesitated. “I’m not really a lady,” she confided on a hushed whisper.
He laughed.
“I’m not,” she retorted, bristling with an indignation that would have been better suited had he leveled such a charge at her. “My mother was not born to the peerage.”
Another laugh built in his chest, but then he caught the tense white lines at the corners of her mouth and the strain of her features. His amusement faded.
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t a lady, darlin’,” he said gently. “I’ve seen the way you carry yourself and speak.”
“Just as I’ve seen the way you do, Mr. Latimer, and yet you are adamant that you’re not a gentleman.”
That brought him up quick. “It’s not the same.”
She arched a regal, blonde eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”
“Who was your father?”
Livian sputtered. “I’m not—”
“I don’t need or want his name. I’m asking, do you know who your father was?”
She frowned.
“Given you mentioned your mother was born outside the peerage, and did not say as much about your father, indicates to me, the fellow was in fact, a peer.”
Those lines at the corner of her mouth deepened.
“I, on the other hand, Livian, don’t know who my father or mother were. I was just some bastard born to a whore, who spent much of my early life in a foundling house.”
“Oh,” she whispered, her eyes bleeding with sympathy.
Heat climbed his neck. “I’m neither wanting or looking for your pity, darlin’,” he said tersely. “I’m simply pointing out your origins are not the same as mine.” He looked her over. “Your mother was some mistress to a nobleman and you were a cherished daughter.”
Her mouth moved but no words emerged.
Livian picked up her tankard and took a sip.
“Nothing else to say, darlin’?”
“Given you’ve already so quickly and so neatly sorted out my past, it doesn’t really feel like you require much input on my behalf.”
He frowned. “That sounds pretty evasive to me, sweet—”
“You asked to know about me,” she interrupted with a stern calmness, “and then went on to fill yourself in on all the details of my life, Lachlan. As such, what else is left for me to say?”
She…was right. Humbled by that realization, he coughed into his hand. “I’m listening.” Now.
“Are you certain you aren’t content with the background you yourself invented about me?” Her lips turned up at the corners into a saucy grin.
The tension he’d carried since his suspicions had been roused, eased. “How about you tell me and we see how close they align?”
