Free A Dangerous Masquerade by Linda Sole Page A

evening. During the day you can be wary but at night you must sleep, and so for a time, must I.’
                  ‘Yes, of course.’  Constance was aware of a prickling unease as she sat down.  ‘Pray eat your soup, sir.  I hope it has not spoiled.’
                  Moraven raised the spoon to his mouth and tasted.  The soup was typically French, full of subtle tastes of the sea, creamy and a little spicy.
                  ‘This is very good.  Where did you learn to cook?’
                  ‘My mother taught me.  When she first married she did not know how to boil an egg but she taught herself French cooking from a book – and Heloise has helped me to go further.  I think perhaps when I seek work it might be better as a cook than a maid.’
                  ‘You would certainly find a position in many English homes.  Not many have tasted soup this good I’ll wager – but why should you work when I have offered to be your protector?’
                  Constance blushed, glad that Heloise had left them to their meal.  ‘I believe I have given my answer, sir.  I am not for sale.’
                  ‘Have I offered to buy you?’
                  Her cheeks flamed. ‘I thought…it is usual for such arrangements in these cases I believe.’
                  ‘How many protectors have you had?’
                  ‘None!  How dare you imply I am of easy virtue.’  She shot him a look of indignation.
                  ‘I was teasing you,’ he replied.  ‘Naturally, I should provide for my mistress – but I would not consider it payment.  If I cared for the lady it would be an arrangement of mutual benefit.’
                  ‘Oh…’  her eyes were fixed firmly on her food.  ‘Similar to a marriage.’
                  ‘Much the same but with freedom on either side to end the arrangement after discussion and mutual agreement.  Better I think than so many marriages where the wife is little more than her husband’s property – wouldn’t you say?’
                  ‘Perhaps…’ Constance’s voice was almost gone.  ‘However, I think a lady would have to feel desperate to agree.  She would lose her honour and the respect of her peers.’
                  ‘I was not aware that you were a lady with prospects,’ Moraven replied.  ‘If you have family or the offer of marriage then I should not dream of offering you carte blanche as my mistress.’
                  ‘You know I have not.’  She raised her eyes to his.  ‘My mother’s family will have nothing to do with me – and my father had neither family or fortune at the end.  It is highly unlikely that I shall ever marry.  Yet I hope to keep my virtue and my honour…’
                  ‘What a waste of beauty and spirit such as yours,’ he replied, finishing his soup and reaching for cheese butter and more bread.  ‘I have known some very happy and honourable liaisons of the kind I suggest amongst my friends.  Some are fortunate enough to have a pleasant arrangement that will last for years – or even a lifetime.’
                  ‘Indeed?’ Constance gave him a steady look.  ‘Why do your friends not wed the women they profess to honour and care for, may I inquire?’
                  ‘I suppose in most cases they are already married.’
                  ‘Yes, I thought as much,’ Constance said.  ‘Tell me, sir – do you have a wife?’
                  ‘Are you hoping to hold out for marriage, Constance?’  Moraven looked amused.  ‘You place a high price on your virtue – yet I am not certain you are the modest innocent you would have me believe?  The woman who took my purse seemed to be a polished sophisticate – the kind of lady who would