Page 25 of The Secret of My Seduction
Just as Liam had advised her to tell Danny, and have a life of her own. And now—oh goodness—she didn’t need to decide aboutLady X. She could tell Danny or not, and either way she would be independent.
She forced her mind away from that and back to her brother’s happiness. She asked him about his betrothed bride, and to her amusement, Danny spoke at great and rhapsodic length about Catherine Brown. In his telling, she was beautiful, sensible, and utterly charming. Her late husband, a man twenty years her senior, had left her a comfortable income and a small manor near Greenwich. Danny, who had once been a bit of a hell-raiser, was looking forward to life as a country gentleman.
When Danny had finished extolling his beloved’s virtues, he gave Bathsheba a somewhat abashed look. “I could have mentioned her sooner, I suppose.”
“You suppose rightly,” she replied. “But I can see you’re in love, so I must forgive you. No man is sensible when he’s in love.”
He ducked his head, grinning like a fool. “I should have known you’d take it well.”
Bathsheba blinked in surprise. “You thought I wouldn’t? Why?”
A flush covered her brother’s face. He opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. “Well—er—I meant to say…”
Suddenly she felt very conscious of the reticule on the chair beside her, the one she’d left at her lover’s house after their last rendezvous. Danny hadn’t told her because he worried that she would feel alone and unwanted, when all this time she’d been keeping her romantic activities from him, just as he had done with his. “Never mind,” she said in a rush. “I understand.”
“Perhaps you should come live with us,” Danny replied, his face still pink. “I hate to think of you alone—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She steadfastly refused to look at the reticule. It seemed to be taunting her over her declaration to Liam that everything between them was over. If only she’d waited another day. If only Danny had told her this sooner. “Think of your Catherine, who will likely not want to share her home with her new husband’s spinster sister.”
He looked torn, but let it go. “I feel responsible for you, Bathsheba.”
She forced an uncomfortable smile. “You shouldn’t.”
“I do. Our father would expect no less of me. If ever you are lonely or in need—”
“I’ll be fine,” she cut in forcefully, trying to fend off the image of sitting alone in this house, writing stories about love and passion, but never finding them. If she listened to the men around her, she’d end up sunk in pity over her sad state, and Bathsheba had a mortal disdain for self-pity. “Perfectly fine. Invite me to dine with you from time to time, provide a nephew or a niece for me to dote upon, and I shall be content.”
His face eased. “Of course. Nothing daunts you! You’ve got more backbone than most men of my acquaintance, Bathsheba.”
“As a woman,” she said dryly, “I expect that’s fairly typical.”
He laughed. “No doubt.” He rose. “I’m glad to have told you at last. It’s been weighing on me for a while now.”
“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?” She shook her head. “What puzzling creatures men are.”
He merely laughed again and went up the stairs. Bathsheba remained where she was, feeling at once happy and a little maudlin. Danny, married! She would have a new sister. Bathsheba said a heartfelt prayer that she and Catherine Brown took a liking to each other.
And now she wouldn’t have to hide anything—not her writing, not her evening activities. She could even bring a lover here if she wished. Her gaze fell on the sofa where Liam had sat just a half an hour previously, and her hand settled on the reticule he had returned. She hadn’t even missed it, which was unusual for her. Bathsheba liked everything in its proper place.
Absently she pulled open the strings and drew out the small notebook, and felt another pang in her heart. What a ninny Liam must have thought her that first night, planning to take notes when he was planning to drive her out of her mind with passion. On impulse she flipped through the pages of the notebook; what had she written in here?
At first she thought it was nothing of import; there were scribblings about her book, but she’d already written those parts. But halfway through there was a different handwriting, and she blushed as she realized it was Liam’s.
He’d read her notes. He’d commented on them, too. Her mouth curved as she read his suggestions about the blacksmith; she’d made that character a clever fellow, just as Liam thought she ought to do. Some of his comments were so irreverent, she could almost see the sly expression on his face, which made her smile widen, but wistfully.
She turned another page, and her amusement slid away. There had been so much she wanted to know about seduction and pleasure. When Liam agreed to her daring proposal, she’d wanted to be prepared. She’d made a list and written down her questions.
And Liam had answered them.
In her notebook.
Chapter Twelve
Liam stalked down Totman Street in a terrible mood. He had pondered long and hard about what he ought to say to Bathsheba, but somehow he’d still made a hash of it. This was not what he had expected; normally his coolly rational approach achieved what he set out to do. Knowing Bathsheba as he did, he’d even though it would be best.
Did she really cling to secrecy because of her brother? It was hard to believe that. Daniel wasn’t likely to throw her out, not after the way Bathsheba had saved his life and business. And Bathsheba herself wasn’t cowed by much; she was eminently logical, unlike every other woman of Liam’s acquaintance. On the other hand, Liam’s interactions with Angus forced him to acknowledge that sibling relations were not always founded in logic and sense.
What was he to do now? Every day of the past three weeks had made the truth of Angus’s words evident: This could only end well if she married him. And he’d botched it.
