to the portrait. But not before she saw the spark of devilry in them.
Did he suppose she was another Sophia Licari, for heaven’s sake? Going about recklessly kissing people? Or was he merely being incorrigible again?
“Geoffrey can’t be my lover as we haven’t…we haven’t . . .”
She stopped and squeezed her eyes closed.
“You haven’t what, Miss Fairleigh?” The odious man was laughing silently at her. “Oh, wait, I recall now. You’ve a will of iron and cannot be seduced. So of course you…‘ haven’t. ’ And I am a scoundrel to suggest such a thing to an unmarried girl. And so on.”
“Lord Rawden. I am not like you.”
“No?” he wondered in an idly insinuating way.
Sabrina bit her lip to keep from retorting. She’d come for a purpose, and she wasn’t about to be diverted from it. With some effort, she gentled her voice, as she might when speaking to a nervous animal.
“Lord Rawden, as you’ve devoted your life to pleasure, I imagine it is difficult for you to understand a man such as Geoffrey, who is willing to make sacrifices in favor of a higher calling. But if you’d only—”
The earl barked a genuine laugh. “Devoted my life to pleasure! Why, my dear little hypocrite, you’ve devoted your life to pleasure, too.”
Sabrina blinked, thinking of the work in Tinbury at the vicarage, the work that kept her moving and thinking swiftly from the moment she rose until her head landed on her pillow again at night. Thinking of her dreams of laboring as a missionary.
She was incensed.
“What on earth do you mean?” Her voice thrummed with outrage.
“Don’t you take pleasure in judging me? Don’t you take pleasure in… helping ? Don’t you feel just a little bit superior because you do help? Come now. Confess all, Miss Fairleigh.”
“I—” She disliked the way he said “helping.” Though this was, in fact, very difficult to deny. She would consider the part about “feeling superior” in a moment. She had an uncomfortable suspicion that she wouldn’t like what she discovered.
“And why do you do it?” he prompted, very much as though she were a schoolgirl and he a schoolmaster, when she said nothing. “You couldn’t even resist helping with my poem when I asked, even though it was about seduction—not a very nice topic—and even though you think I’m a complete reprobate. Come, Miss Fairleigh. Tell me why.”
Oddly, she sensed he was a bit angry now, too.
This wasn’t at all going as she’d hoped.
She scrambled for her mental footing, but he’d succeeded in poking her temper up again, which made it nearly impossible. “I cannot speak to how thorough a reprobate you might be, Lord Rawden, but—”
He laughed, this time sounding for some reason thoroughly pleased. “Why, then, do you help, Miss Fairleigh? Are you afraid for my immortal soul? Because you’re the vicar’s daughter, and must always do good?”
“I was adopted,” she said curtly. “I’m not the vicar’s daughter.”
“Ah, well then, that explains every thing.”
“ What does it explain?” Her voice was perilously close to shrill.
“Never mind, Miss Fairleigh. Do go on. We were talking about your fear for my immortal soul.” He was laughing silently at her again.
“Your immortal soul concerns me very little, Lord Rawden.” This wasn’t entirely truthful. At the moment, she rather wished his immortal soul someplace that would appall her father.
“Why, then?” he persisted. “What compels you, Miss Fairleigh, to devote your life to…helping? I would like a truthful answer before we pursue the topic of Geoffrey and his mission.”
“Because—”
She stopped, realizing what she was about to say. He was again right: she helped because it made her uncomfortable not to help.
In short: she helped because she enjoyed it.
“Do you do it because you want to, or because you think you should?” he coaxed. She could not recall encountering another man so utterly determined to
Did he suppose she was another Sophia Licari, for heaven’s sake? Going about recklessly kissing people? Or was he merely being incorrigible again?
“Geoffrey can’t be my lover as we haven’t…we haven’t . . .”
She stopped and squeezed her eyes closed.
“You haven’t what, Miss Fairleigh?” The odious man was laughing silently at her. “Oh, wait, I recall now. You’ve a will of iron and cannot be seduced. So of course you…‘ haven’t. ’ And I am a scoundrel to suggest such a thing to an unmarried girl. And so on.”
“Lord Rawden. I am not like you.”
“No?” he wondered in an idly insinuating way.
Sabrina bit her lip to keep from retorting. She’d come for a purpose, and she wasn’t about to be diverted from it. With some effort, she gentled her voice, as she might when speaking to a nervous animal.
“Lord Rawden, as you’ve devoted your life to pleasure, I imagine it is difficult for you to understand a man such as Geoffrey, who is willing to make sacrifices in favor of a higher calling. But if you’d only—”
The earl barked a genuine laugh. “Devoted my life to pleasure! Why, my dear little hypocrite, you’ve devoted your life to pleasure, too.”
Sabrina blinked, thinking of the work in Tinbury at the vicarage, the work that kept her moving and thinking swiftly from the moment she rose until her head landed on her pillow again at night. Thinking of her dreams of laboring as a missionary.
She was incensed.
“What on earth do you mean?” Her voice thrummed with outrage.
“Don’t you take pleasure in judging me? Don’t you take pleasure in… helping ? Don’t you feel just a little bit superior because you do help? Come now. Confess all, Miss Fairleigh.”
“I—” She disliked the way he said “helping.” Though this was, in fact, very difficult to deny. She would consider the part about “feeling superior” in a moment. She had an uncomfortable suspicion that she wouldn’t like what she discovered.
“And why do you do it?” he prompted, very much as though she were a schoolgirl and he a schoolmaster, when she said nothing. “You couldn’t even resist helping with my poem when I asked, even though it was about seduction—not a very nice topic—and even though you think I’m a complete reprobate. Come, Miss Fairleigh. Tell me why.”
Oddly, she sensed he was a bit angry now, too.
This wasn’t at all going as she’d hoped.
She scrambled for her mental footing, but he’d succeeded in poking her temper up again, which made it nearly impossible. “I cannot speak to how thorough a reprobate you might be, Lord Rawden, but—”
He laughed, this time sounding for some reason thoroughly pleased. “Why, then, do you help, Miss Fairleigh? Are you afraid for my immortal soul? Because you’re the vicar’s daughter, and must always do good?”
“I was adopted,” she said curtly. “I’m not the vicar’s daughter.”
“Ah, well then, that explains every thing.”
“ What does it explain?” Her voice was perilously close to shrill.
“Never mind, Miss Fairleigh. Do go on. We were talking about your fear for my immortal soul.” He was laughing silently at her again.
“Your immortal soul concerns me very little, Lord Rawden.” This wasn’t entirely truthful. At the moment, she rather wished his immortal soul someplace that would appall her father.
“Why, then?” he persisted. “What compels you, Miss Fairleigh, to devote your life to…helping? I would like a truthful answer before we pursue the topic of Geoffrey and his mission.”
“Because—”
She stopped, realizing what she was about to say. He was again right: she helped because it made her uncomfortable not to help.
In short: she helped because she enjoyed it.
“Do you do it because you want to, or because you think you should?” he coaxed. She could not recall encountering another man so utterly determined to
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