Page 5 of The Forbidden Lord
Her head bobbed furiously.
“And pure as the driven snow, I suppose.” Anger exploded in his brain. How could he have acted so heedlessly? “You’re right, madam. This is indeed a terrible error.”
“Youmusttake me back at once, now that you see I’m not the sort of woman you thought. The longer you keep me out here, the more my reputation suffers. Besides, my cousin will be looking for me.”
And who else, her eager father? Her scheming aunt? What if she’d lied about mistaking him for her cousin? Overzealous mamas had laid traps for him before. It was one reason he’d always given a wide berth to unmarried young women.
And what about how she’d defended him so adamantly? What young woman would have done so if not to make an impression upon him? She must have known he was eavesdropping. She hadn’t acted at all surprised to find him standing there.
Cold anger settled in his gut like a bad meal. “I suspect your cousin knows exactly where you are right now.”
She dropped her fan into her lap. “What do you mean?”
He interpreted her wary expression as more indication of her guilt. “You know exactly what I mean. This was all a little plot, wasn’t it? If I return to the ball, I’ll find a host of people awaiting us, ready to force me into ‘fixing’ my indiscretion. Well, let me tell you something. If you think I shall let some clever chit trap me into marriage?—”
“You don’t think that I … that this….” She sputtered to a halt, then drew a shaky breath. “You think I purposely did this? Made you take me out in a carriage unchaperoned at the risk to my reputation?”
“What else am I to think? You defended me when you surely realized I was standing there listening. All that nonsense about mistaking me for your cousin?—”
“Why, you insolent, presuming blackguard! I see that I misjudged Sophie’s information entirely! Obviously, you know only one sort of female, which explains why you don’t recognize a decent woman when you meet one!”
“Oh, I recognize decent women quite well,” he snapped, his ancient fear rearing its ugly head. “They play games like this to catch themselves prominent, rich husbands. They want money, position, and the chance to run a man’s life into the ground, and they’ll use anything to get it.”
When she gave a choked gasp, he added with deliberate coarseness, “Indecent women, on the other hand, are honest in what they expect for the pleasures they provide. They’re easy to manage, take little time away from important pursuits, and don’t ask for more than a man can give. Oh, yes, I recognize the difference. And I prefer indecent women to so-called decent women any day.”
Like a banner unfurling, she straightened. “You may find this hard to believe, Lord Blackmore, but there are women other than the ones you’ve described, who don’t need to advance their position or fortune by tricking some hapless man into marriage. I’m one of them. I’m quite happy with my own life, thank you very much, and don’t need to ‘run’ yours to find satisfaction.”
She fixed him with a frosty gaze. “I most certainly didnotset out to trap you. I merely made a mistake, one that appears more grievous for every moment I spend in your disgusting presence!”
The vehemence in her voice took him by surprise. She did look the very picture of affronted womanhood. But then, she’d have to be a bit of an actress to pull this off, wouldn’t she?
“So you claim not to have known I was listening to your conversation?”
“I donothave such appalling bad manners as to allow my friend to gossip about a man within his hearing!”
“All right,” he said in clipped tones. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth. If you were oblivious to my presence on the balcony, why on earth did you defend me to Lady Sophie when you had no idea who I was or whether the gossip was true?”
She met his gaze coldly. “I knew of your work in Parliament. That in itselfseemedto show you to be honest and good.”
He winced at her emphasis on “seemed.” Had he been too hasty in his judgment?
The coach lurched, throwing her to the side long enough to expose one trim and decidedly pretty ankle before she righted herself. “Besides,” she continued archly, “it’s not right for people to malign a man when he’s not there to defend himself. If one doesn’t know the truth, one should keep silent. My father, the rector of Willow Crossing, raised me not to listen to such idle gossip.”
“Your father is arector?” His uneasiness deepened. A rector’s daughter setting a trap for him? That seemed unlikely. He groaned. He’d made a nasty mistake in letting his anger get the better of him. Despite her mask, he could see her eyes snap.
“He is indeed. You could learn a lot from him. He doesn’t judge people without knowing anything about them. He's always quoting Matthew 7:1, ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged.’”
For God’s sake, the woman was reciting the Bible, chapter and verse.
“I live by those words,” she went on, now fully provoked. “No one but God has the right to judge a person’s behavior, not even you. And furthermore?—”
“Enough, madam.”
She went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “There’s the scripture that says?—”
“Madam, leave off!! I believe you.”
Her expression was priceless, almost disappointed, like that of a preacher denied a pulpit. “You what?”
