Page 53 of The Danger of Desire
“Is it? Perhaps I’m searching for a woman with a moon tattoo.”
“Very amusing.” She glanced into the breakfast room, but no one new had arrived, and she’d already looked over the guests who were there. It wasn’t as if there were hundreds of them. Stoke Towers was large, but notthatlarge.
As if he’d read her mind, he asked, “Have you found your fellow with the sun tattoo among the guests?”
“Regrettably, no.”
“Personally, I think you’re looking for something akin to a unicorn. But if I ever meet a man fitting your requirements, I’ll let you know.”
“Will you?” she asked tartly.
He eyed her askance. “There you go again, refusing to trust me.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s all men.”
“Because of your brother. And your father.”
His insight startled her. “Perhaps.”
Compassion showed in his face. “I’m not like either. I’m very forthright.”
“Hmm.” She ventured a shot in the dark. “Then perhaps you’ll tell me why you never go to bed before dawn.”
His face closed up. “I prefer the night, that’s all.”
So therewasmore to his nightly habits than he would admit. “In other words, you don’t want to reveal your secrets any more than I do mine.”
“You have secrets?” he said, with that smirk that said he’d caught her in an admission she hadn’t meant to make.
“None that would interest you.” She returned her attention to the other guests. “So, with whom do you hope to be paired for the sketch?”
“You, of course. Who else?”
A thrill coursed through her that she swiftly squelched. “Your cousin, perhaps?”
“Clarissa has Edwin. She doesn’t need me.”
The strangest feeling came over her then. Envy, of Clarissa and Edwin. Which was ridiculous. Marriage meant sacrifice, and she had no desire to sacrifice her soul for a man.
Unless it was Warren.
She scowled. How absurd. They might enjoy their little encounters, but Warren had no desire for a wife. And though eventually he would have to settle for one, if only to sire his heir, he would choose one with stellar connections, who came from wealth and rank. Not someone like her.
She wouldn’t want to be forced to cater to the whims of such a lofty fellow, anyway. Or wait for him to stop sowing his wild oats.
Certainly not.
“I’m surprised you haven’t yet drummed up a card game,” he said. “Shall you play piquet tonight?”
“I might. Ifyouwill play me.”
He lowered his voice. “Having already lost a thousand pounds to you, I think I’ve filled your coffers enough.”
“I still haven’t seen the blunt,” she said, mostly to tweak his nose.
“What a greedy chit you are,” he said mildly. “I’ll give you your money whenever it’s prudent to do so.”
Determined to provoke him, she said, “So you say.”
