Page 20 of The Pleasures of Passion
He shrugged. “Plenty of women snag lords based on appearance alone. Look at the Gunning sisters. Their father was a nobody, and their mother little more. One of them married a duke and the other an earl. For a man, it’s rather like acquiring a fine piece of art to show off to one’s friends.”
“How flattering,” she muttered. “I get to be the Rembrandt you flash around.”
“More like the Botticelli.” His gaze dipped down to her breasts, and there was no mistaking the glint of desire there before he jerked it back up. “The Birth of Venuscomes to mind.”
Oh, Lord. Wasn’t that the painting of Venus rising naked from the sea on a shell? Scoundrel. And he’d said that this wasn’t about trying to seduce her.
Shaking off a frisson of awareness, she glared at him. “That makes it so much more palatable.” Reynold had essentially married her for her looks, and she’d liked it no better with him.
A chuckle escaped him. “I’m not saying thatIfeel like you’re a work of art to show off. Just that plenty of other men feel that way. And I canpretendto feel that way.”
“Yes, but will Papa believe that you’d want me just for my appearance? That’s the question.”
He scoured her with a heated look that burned wherever it touched. “Trust me, any man with eyes would believe it.”
Before she could react to that shockingly intimate glance, he turned and began to pace. “And it would work for our scheme in other respects. A man pursuing beauty will pay anything to gain it. That gives me a reason for needing quick funds—so I can buy you whatever pretty thing you want, including a proper wedding.” He halted in front of her. “I daresay you could makethatrole believable. Then you won’t have to pretend to be in love with me.”
The edge in his voice gave her pause. He was hinting at something insulting—she felt sure of it. But what?
Or perhaps she was just so annoyed with him in general that she saw insults wherever she looked.
“I guess that would work,” she said. “I’d certainly rather play a grasping female than one who’s mooning over you.”As I so foolishly did before. “Though Papa might not believe I could be so mercenary.”
“Why not?” he said evenly. “He’s mercenary, so surely he expects his daughter to follow in his tracks. Besides, people change. He hasn’t seen you in years, so he doesn’t knowwhomyou’ve become.”
That was certainly true.
“And you do have a son to consider, who needs a father. That’s another reason for you to wed.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes, but I’d be a fool to marry a reckless character like you and risk my son’s future inheritance, wouldn’t I?”
A self-deprecating smile tightened his features. “Ah, but I have a title. Some women are fools for titles.”
“True.” That was difficult for her to fathom. She’d never cared much about such things. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. I’ll play a dimwitted upstart eager to rise in the world, and you’ll play the licentious lecher who wants me for my body. And we’ll do it to capture my dastardly father in an act of ‘treason.’ ” She gave a shaky laugh. “It sounds like something out of a gothic novel.”
“With any luck it will end like a novel, as well, with the virtuous heroine prevailing over godlessness. And your role needn’t include being dimwitted. Now,thatI would find hard to believe.”
The compliment startled her, especially since it held the same edge as before, making her wonder if it really was a compliment. “Thank you. I think.” She wanted to say that she couldn’t see him as a licentious lecher, either, but the words stuck in her throat.
Although that reminded her of something she’d better settle before they launched into this. “Yourswillbe just a role, I hope. No need to . . . er . . . behave lecherously to play it.”
“What? But I was looking forward to that part.”
“Niall—”
“Relax, Bree,” he said acidly. “I won’t assault your precious virtue. I’ll have my hands full just trying to keep up with your father’s machinations.” As she let out a breath, he added, “And speaking of that, we should arrange a visit to him as soon as possible. Assuming that you’ve decided to do this.”
“As everyone keeps pointing out, I don’t have a choice.” She sighed. “But I do have one other question. How do you wish to handle announcing the engagement? Do we tell only Papa and hide it from anyone else, the way Lord Fulkham said we might? Or do we leap into it wholeheartedly and deal with the consequences later?”
“I prefer to leap in wholeheartedly, myself.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” she said. The man had always leapt into everything—meeting her, courting her . . . leaving her.
“Hear me out. It will be hard enough to manage the subterfuge involving the counterfeiting. If we have to keep track of who knows what about the engagement, too, we’ll forget ourselves and muddle everything.”
He flashed her a rueful smile. “Besides, we’d never keep it from my mother. Don’t let her flighty behavior fool you—she can sniff out a secret at ten paces, especially one of that sort. As for your aunt—”
“Oh no, myaunt!” Her stomach knotted. “Goodness gracious, I forgot all about her. How am I supposed to lie to her after everything she’s done for me and Silas?”
