Free To Pleasure a Lady by Nicole Jordan Page A

really out of hand? How many mistresses do you have in keeping?”
    A dark eyebrow rose at her impertinent question. “Is that really any of your affair, darling?”
    â€œIt is if you expect me to consider your proposal of marriage.” When he hesitated, Arabella smiled sweetly. “It is a simple question, Marcus. How many mistresses do you have?”
    â€œNone at present.”
    â€œBut you regularly employ one?”
    â€œI have in the past. Most gentlemen of means do.”
    She arched an eloquent eyebrow of her own. “I cannot take a blithe view of adultery. I would never tolerate affairs and infidelities from my husband.”
    â€œSome men give up their mistresses upon marrying.”
    â€œBut I could never trust that you would do so, or that you wouldn’t relapse, even if you promised fidelity in the beginning.”
    He held her gaze levelly. “I am not your father, Arabella. And you insult me to put me in the same category.”
    The sudden intensity of his tone took her aback. “Forgive me,” she apologized with a strained smile. “I am only attempting to make you understand why I don’t want a marriage of convenience. If your parents had endured a marriage such as mine had, I’m certain you would be just as adverse to repeating their experience.”
    His mouth twisted sardonically. “As it happens, my parents were much more discreet in their affairs than yours were. But I confess, their experience left me with no fondness for the institution of matrimony.” Marcus paused. “Apparently, though, your mother was as guilty as your father of faithlessness.”
    Arabella’s smile faded. “I don’t like to speak of my mother.”
    Victoria Loring’s initial transgressions had been nowhere near as severe as her spouse’s had been; her single affair had stemmed out of revenge against her husband’s countless infidelities. Yet she had committed a worse sin, to Arabella’s mind, by abandoning her family. For a moment, Arabella closed her eyes at the dizzying wave of pain that memory conjured up.
    Marcus must have seen her expression, for he made a sympathetic sound. “You have not had an ideal time of it, have you, love? First the scandals and being forced from your home, then having to earn your living.”
    Her eyes opened abruptly, finding his blue gaze alarmingly tender. “You needn’t pity me, you know. I have long since gotten over the pain and humiliation.” Which was a lie, Arabella added to herself. “In any case, adversity builds character, or so they say.”
    â€œYou and your sisters have had more than your fair share of adversity.”
    She managed a shrug. “We were determined to make the best of our lot. The worst part was being dependent on our step-uncle’s largess, at the mercy of his whims. More than once he threatened to evict us. But thankfully, we were able to open our academy. It offered us gainful employment so we wouldn’t be forced into menial servitude or compelled to wed as our only means of survival.”
    Marcus’s response was forestalled by a discreet knock on the drawing room door. When he bid entrance, Simpkin appeared to announce that dinner was served in the small dining parlor.
    Glad to leave off such an uncomfortable subject as her family chronicles, Arabella took Marcus’s arm to accompany him in to dinner, an action she regretted immediately. Beneath his coat sleeve, she could feel the warmth radiating from him, could feel the hard muscles flex under her fingertips. The contact did strange things to her pulse.
    She was glad to see that their places had been set at either end of the long table, with a significant distance separating the two.
    Marcus shook his head at the arrangements, however. “We needn’t be so formal, Simpkin. I prefer to have Miss Loring seated beside me.”
    â€œAs you wish, my lord.”
    The butler