As he watched, she lifted her arms and stretched them high above her. Yawning hugely, she tilted her head back, closing her eyes to the warm touch of the sun on her face.
“Yawning is gauche,” he said, because anything else would have been too tender, too desperate.
She didn’t even open her eyes. “Very,” she said. “So please spare yourself more of the same by taking yourself off to where you will no longer be subject to witnessing such unladylike gestures.”
“Dear me, no. I am all eagerness to see what further examples of unfeminine behavior you might exhibit.” He dragged an iron chair from where it had been tucked amongst the greenery and perched himself on its edge in an attitude of dramatized expectation.
“Perhaps I shall burp,” she suggested, opening one eye.
He clucked his tongue. “Not unfeminine, merely coarse.
I
do not burp.”
The other eye flew open so both regarded him balefully. “I shall swear. Certainly that is a masculine habit.”
“Only amongst common males.”
“All right. I shall smoke a pipe. I shall ride astride and I shall wear breeches like Lady Skeffington is reputed to do!”
“Why do you insist in seeking out the most thoroughly unfeminine women in the realm as your examples?”
“Better to follow a woman’s example than mindlessly heed the dictates of men.”
Thomas considered her statement. She took his momentary silence as disapproval and, already tense, warmed to her discourse. “ ’Tis true! How patently ridiculous you men make us! How unfair you treat us in your paternal assurance that you know best what is feminine, as opposed to unfeminine, behavior.”
“Ridiculous? How so?” he asked, curious.
“Take, for example, popular fashion.” Cat gestured down at the gown that covered her in a sheath of cream and saffron striped silk.
“What of it? You look delectable.”
“I expect I do. But to what end? I am told to wear garments which only an idiot or a blind person could say does anything other than attract the eye to certain salient points of my anatomy. They assuredly are not comfortable. Have you ever tried mincing gracefully down a crowded promenade in a muslin cylinder? I should say not. Its sole purpose is to draw attention to my figure.”
“For the sake of argument, let us say you are correct.”
“I
am
correct. Here I sit, ensconced in a pretty prison of provocative attire, looking ‘delectable.’ I have become nothing more than bait. A plump little delectable worm. I am supposed to offer a gentleman temptation so great as to be irresistible. And yet, and yet, Mr. Montrose, when you gallants come to the point of taking the bait I have so graciously angled, it is your edict that I am at this point to say, ‘No, no, Lord so-and-so, mustn’t touch!’ Who but an idiot or a perverse demigod would contrive such ridiculous conventions?”
“I believe you overstate yourself. To attire oneself attractively is not the same as being wanton.”
“Oh, pish! I’m not talking about morals! I’m discussing bribes!”
“Bribes?”
“Yes, sir. Bribes! I allow you to view what marriage buys.” Though her lips trembled with the force of her feelings, she held her pale chin up, daring him to argue.
“And what would you suggest?” Thomas asked, leaning forward and bracing his long forearms on his knees, his hands dangling between his legs. “Would you really attire yourself as a male? And where then are the boundaries drawn? Would you like to work as the manager of an estate, argue politics, be responsible for an entire population? And, if so, to whom does this leave the rearing of the young?”
Cat sighed in exasperation. “Women already influence politics, manage estates, and are responsible for the population of their households. And, by the by, still produce heirs.”
He was silent a moment, pondering her statements. “You may be correct, Cat. But given that your intellectual abilities are already engaged, I fail to see the
“Yawning is gauche,” he said, because anything else would have been too tender, too desperate.
She didn’t even open her eyes. “Very,” she said. “So please spare yourself more of the same by taking yourself off to where you will no longer be subject to witnessing such unladylike gestures.”
“Dear me, no. I am all eagerness to see what further examples of unfeminine behavior you might exhibit.” He dragged an iron chair from where it had been tucked amongst the greenery and perched himself on its edge in an attitude of dramatized expectation.
“Perhaps I shall burp,” she suggested, opening one eye.
He clucked his tongue. “Not unfeminine, merely coarse.
I
do not burp.”
The other eye flew open so both regarded him balefully. “I shall swear. Certainly that is a masculine habit.”
“Only amongst common males.”
“All right. I shall smoke a pipe. I shall ride astride and I shall wear breeches like Lady Skeffington is reputed to do!”
“Why do you insist in seeking out the most thoroughly unfeminine women in the realm as your examples?”
“Better to follow a woman’s example than mindlessly heed the dictates of men.”
Thomas considered her statement. She took his momentary silence as disapproval and, already tense, warmed to her discourse. “ ’Tis true! How patently ridiculous you men make us! How unfair you treat us in your paternal assurance that you know best what is feminine, as opposed to unfeminine, behavior.”
“Ridiculous? How so?” he asked, curious.
“Take, for example, popular fashion.” Cat gestured down at the gown that covered her in a sheath of cream and saffron striped silk.
“What of it? You look delectable.”
“I expect I do. But to what end? I am told to wear garments which only an idiot or a blind person could say does anything other than attract the eye to certain salient points of my anatomy. They assuredly are not comfortable. Have you ever tried mincing gracefully down a crowded promenade in a muslin cylinder? I should say not. Its sole purpose is to draw attention to my figure.”
“For the sake of argument, let us say you are correct.”
“I
am
correct. Here I sit, ensconced in a pretty prison of provocative attire, looking ‘delectable.’ I have become nothing more than bait. A plump little delectable worm. I am supposed to offer a gentleman temptation so great as to be irresistible. And yet, and yet, Mr. Montrose, when you gallants come to the point of taking the bait I have so graciously angled, it is your edict that I am at this point to say, ‘No, no, Lord so-and-so, mustn’t touch!’ Who but an idiot or a perverse demigod would contrive such ridiculous conventions?”
“I believe you overstate yourself. To attire oneself attractively is not the same as being wanton.”
“Oh, pish! I’m not talking about morals! I’m discussing bribes!”
“Bribes?”
“Yes, sir. Bribes! I allow you to view what marriage buys.” Though her lips trembled with the force of her feelings, she held her pale chin up, daring him to argue.
“And what would you suggest?” Thomas asked, leaning forward and bracing his long forearms on his knees, his hands dangling between his legs. “Would you really attire yourself as a male? And where then are the boundaries drawn? Would you like to work as the manager of an estate, argue politics, be responsible for an entire population? And, if so, to whom does this leave the rearing of the young?”
Cat sighed in exasperation. “Women already influence politics, manage estates, and are responsible for the population of their households. And, by the by, still produce heirs.”
He was silent a moment, pondering her statements. “You may be correct, Cat. But given that your intellectual abilities are already engaged, I fail to see the
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