responsible?” she probed.
“Your own children, to be sure,” he replied. “I’m speaking of your own home as well. A townhouse, or an estate, where you are in charge.”
That did sound suspiciously like a marriage proposal. But shouldn’t he be down on one knee? The least of Persephone’s suitors would be more impassioned than this, and they had far less experience in public speaking than Malcolm did. He was also an accomplished debater, she reminded herself. He was trying to convince her of something, but what eluded her. Much as she would like the topic to be marriage, she simply could not convince herself of the fact.
“Sir, do not tease me,” she said. “If you have something to say to me, please do so.”
He raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. His craggy face dominated her field of vision, and she could not look away from those midnight eyes. “I know you value plain speaking, but I feel I must make sure you understand the benefits of what I am proposing. As I said, I would like to make sure we each get what we want. But I find myself uncertain as to exactly what you might want, Miss Compton.”
Her gaze settled on his lips. She was sure it did so only to relieve the pressure of his dark gaze, but she found the sight fascinating. They were firm and tinted a soft rose, with the hint of a cleft below the lower one. She could imagine them touching her in the most interesting places. Stunned, she lowered her gaze and took a deep breath to purge these strange thoughts. “I’m afraid what I want, my lord,” she heard herself say, “is not yours to give.”
“I sincerely hope that is not the case,” he declared. He rose to pace, and Sarah slumped in relief. Widening the distance between them was surely a good thing. Yet, glancing up, she saw with dismay that having a full sight of him only made her stays seem tighter. His long legs were shown to advantage in the tight-fitting gray trousers as he strode about the little room. The dark coat emphasized powerful shoulders. She was reminded of the lion at the Tower Zoo, magnificence caged. She dropped her gaze to her hands once again, interlocking her fingers until she could barely unclench them.
“I would contend, madam,” he said in what was surely his most persuasive orator’s voice, “that I could offer you your dreams if you would but give me the opportunity.”
Was he offering her some sort of bribe then? Did he mean to offer her her own establishment if she would plead his case with Persephone? She did not want that to be the case; she could feel the bite of disappointment, strong and sharp. But he had said she would have her own children. What did that have to do with him marrying Persephone? Did he think to provide her with a husband just as Norrie planned to trot out her farmers? The conversation only grew more confused by the second. She kept her eyes on her fingers, afraid of what she would reveal if she raised her head.
“If this is about Persephone, say no more, my lord,” she told him. “I have heard this speech several times. I cannot pretend to have any influence over my cousin’s choice of husband.”
She heard him stop and could feel the frown in his response. “What has this to do with your cousin?”
Involuntarily, her head came it. “You are not speaking about Persephone?”
“Decidedly not,” he assured her. He returned swiftly to the chair opposite hers and took up her hands in a firm grip. She did not dare look away.
“I will not deny that your cousin is a lovely young lady,” he said. “But she is absolutely unsuited to my needs. You see, I have a dream as well, a dream for a strong England, as safe and prosperous within as she is protected from without. Some have named governance a noble calling, and I am honored that it is mine. But to live up to that calling, I must have help.”
Sarah frowned. For a moment she had been sure he meant to propose marriage to her again. Disappointment shot through her, tainted
“Your own children, to be sure,” he replied. “I’m speaking of your own home as well. A townhouse, or an estate, where you are in charge.”
That did sound suspiciously like a marriage proposal. But shouldn’t he be down on one knee? The least of Persephone’s suitors would be more impassioned than this, and they had far less experience in public speaking than Malcolm did. He was also an accomplished debater, she reminded herself. He was trying to convince her of something, but what eluded her. Much as she would like the topic to be marriage, she simply could not convince herself of the fact.
“Sir, do not tease me,” she said. “If you have something to say to me, please do so.”
He raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. His craggy face dominated her field of vision, and she could not look away from those midnight eyes. “I know you value plain speaking, but I feel I must make sure you understand the benefits of what I am proposing. As I said, I would like to make sure we each get what we want. But I find myself uncertain as to exactly what you might want, Miss Compton.”
Her gaze settled on his lips. She was sure it did so only to relieve the pressure of his dark gaze, but she found the sight fascinating. They were firm and tinted a soft rose, with the hint of a cleft below the lower one. She could imagine them touching her in the most interesting places. Stunned, she lowered her gaze and took a deep breath to purge these strange thoughts. “I’m afraid what I want, my lord,” she heard herself say, “is not yours to give.”
“I sincerely hope that is not the case,” he declared. He rose to pace, and Sarah slumped in relief. Widening the distance between them was surely a good thing. Yet, glancing up, she saw with dismay that having a full sight of him only made her stays seem tighter. His long legs were shown to advantage in the tight-fitting gray trousers as he strode about the little room. The dark coat emphasized powerful shoulders. She was reminded of the lion at the Tower Zoo, magnificence caged. She dropped her gaze to her hands once again, interlocking her fingers until she could barely unclench them.
“I would contend, madam,” he said in what was surely his most persuasive orator’s voice, “that I could offer you your dreams if you would but give me the opportunity.”
Was he offering her some sort of bribe then? Did he mean to offer her her own establishment if she would plead his case with Persephone? She did not want that to be the case; she could feel the bite of disappointment, strong and sharp. But he had said she would have her own children. What did that have to do with him marrying Persephone? Did he think to provide her with a husband just as Norrie planned to trot out her farmers? The conversation only grew more confused by the second. She kept her eyes on her fingers, afraid of what she would reveal if she raised her head.
“If this is about Persephone, say no more, my lord,” she told him. “I have heard this speech several times. I cannot pretend to have any influence over my cousin’s choice of husband.”
She heard him stop and could feel the frown in his response. “What has this to do with your cousin?”
Involuntarily, her head came it. “You are not speaking about Persephone?”
“Decidedly not,” he assured her. He returned swiftly to the chair opposite hers and took up her hands in a firm grip. She did not dare look away.
“I will not deny that your cousin is a lovely young lady,” he said. “But she is absolutely unsuited to my needs. You see, I have a dream as well, a dream for a strong England, as safe and prosperous within as she is protected from without. Some have named governance a noble calling, and I am honored that it is mine. But to live up to that calling, I must have help.”
Sarah frowned. For a moment she had been sure he meant to propose marriage to her again. Disappointment shot through her, tainted
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