Free Barbara Metzger by The Wicked Ways of a True Hero (prc) Page B

me the least attractive.
     
     
To prove her wrong, he had to kiss her again.
     
     
She kept her mouth closed, her back rigid, instead of going all soft and warm in his arms. He stepped back.
     
     
This time she did slap him. I am not a whore!
     
     
The slap only reinforced what he already knew. He shook his head, as if that might get his brain working again. Zeus, I should not be doing this.
     
     
I am a lady.
     
     
He nodded. Right. My mothers goddaughter. My sisters bosom bow. A guest in my house. It will not happen again.
     
     
It better not. She gripped one of the hairpins like a weapon.
     
     
I had a shade too much to drink, dont you know.
     
     
No, I cannot imagine anyone drinking a dent in his honor. Saying you are in your cups is merely an excuse for immoral behavior. She shoved her feet into her slippers and stood up. You really are no gentleman. I was right to consider you a cad, and a drunk, too.
     
     
Oh, Id have kissed you stone sober.
     
     
She pretended not to see his smile. You are reprehensible.
     
     
I told my mother I was. Somehow his mood was brightened just knowing Miss Abbott wasnt a flirt. In fact, he was downright cheerful shed proved virtuous. I wish you could convince my mother of that, so she releases me back to my life of decadence and debauchery. Then you can go husband hunting in peace.
     
     
She sat down again, knowing she had to lace the ribbons on her shoes or shed trip instead of making a grand exit. Is it so wrong to look for a match?
     
     
Daniel went to add more coals to the fire. Ask the fox how he feels with a pack of slavering dogs chasing after him.
     
     
If hes been raiding the henhouse, Reynard has no one to blame but himself.
     
     
But what if hes been minding his foxish business, smelling the flowers, digging a nice little burrow for himself?
     
     
Then hed be lonely. And dirty and hungry. I do feel sorry for the poor fox, of course, but the London Season is not a blood sport. Gentlemen can always get away.
     
     
Thats how much you know. You havent met a determined mama yet, one of those who is ready to arrange a compromising situation just to trap a match for her homely daughter.
     
     
But women are not the only pursuers.
     
     
Daniel wiped his hands on his fathers trousers. No, there are fortune hunters aplenty who need to line their pockets with a substantial dowry. Im not saying thats right, either. Some chaps dont need the blunt; they need to fill their nurseries, to ensure their successions.
     
     
They need a broodmare, in other words.
     
     
He shrugged. If not for the money or the heirs, Id wager, few men would marry.
     
     
One slipper was tied, without showing too much of her ankle. She looked up. You do not believe in love?
     
     
Of course I do. Ive seen it in Rex and Harry, havent I? Moonstruck, both of them. They were lucky, thats all.
     
     
Corie thought about how lucky their wives were. She sighed. A woman has fewer choices. Its not like I can study for the law or the church, or go into trade. Marriage is my only option. I cannot return to my fathers house.
     
     
What if you cant find a man to love?
     
     
I shall still wed if I receive an honorable proposal, and hope for love to follow. If no respectable man offers for me this Season, Ill sell my jewelry, my pearls and a diamond set from my mother. Ill live on that until I find a suitor, or a position as a ladys companion.
     
     
Without references?
     
     
Your mother could write me recommendations. She might know of a post for me with one of her friends.
     
     
My mother would pay someone to wed you, rather than see you go into service. That is no life for a lady. Youd be miserable.
     
     
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. Then what do you suggest I become? A courtesan?
     
     
Youd have no lack of offers. He held up his hand before the prickly female could take affront again, or cry. No insult intended. But dont worry; plenty of swells with good intentions