11 Chapter 11

"A kiss?"

How strange. Cass could have staked money on him being about to say something ... worse. But a kiss? A libertine like him, who ... well, she doubted that Tilly had invited that painted whore who'd been standing by the door at Chessington. Cass didn't imagine she wasn't looking at who had. Which was why she wished he wouldn't stand there, gazing down at her with boyish longing, as if he'd die to kiss her.

"From you. I mean ... I... "

She jerked her chin higher. "I know quite well who it is from, Lord Hawley. I'm not blind."

If a kiss was as much as this specimen wanted to make him go away again why the blazes not just do it? Then she could stay here without further fear of interruption. From him anyway. She'd said to Ruby and Pearl she'd deal with him? This was her chance to show them how effortlessly masterful she was.

A kiss?

Should she appear too eager though? Think of what it would say about her guilt. At the very least she should pretend to consider it. She lowered her eyelashes.

A kiss?

Actually? Perhaps not. At all costs she mustn't allow a moment to overthrow her because the stars shone, filling her head with moonshine, and he didn't just stand close enough to breathe, he put his hand on the door jamb behind her, expecting that kiss. The swine.

Ten years may have passed, but what if the sole reason he wanted that kiss was so he could prove who she was? She had him by the balls, to quote Ruby who was probably watching the whole thing from behind the curtains in the main hall. Imagine, if instead of squeezing these same self-satisfied balls, Ruby saw her kissing him instead? Well?

She straightened her spine, squared her jaw.

"That is an extremely unconventional request, to say the least, Lord Hawley. What do you think I am exactly? Some doxy you'd buy in a military brothel for a farthing?"

"A farthing?"

She jerked her chin higher. Her eyelashes too. If surprise flickered at her neat turning of this particular odiously set table, so much the better. After all, he wasn't going to let her go for a kiss. "Yes."

"God no. But you'd know the average cost in a military brothel, as opposed to your average high street brothel, would you, Mrs. Armstrong?"

"Pardon? Why would I know that? Elgered would never, ever have frequented so disgusting a place. Not all men are as low, as vile, as needy as you plainly--"

"I'm not talking about Elgered."

"Well, I hope you don't think you're talking about-"

"I'm meaning Matthew."

She lowered her eyelashes further. Matthew? The bigger swine.Well, if he thought he'd prickled her he'd a big think coming."I see. Well, what you spend your money on and how you spend it is of no interest to a humble widow like me, Lord Hawley. Although if you spend more they must certainly count themselves lucky to know you're both choosy and generous."

"They don't exactly complain."

What did that mean exactly? She didn't like to think, but she did anyway. That she was guilty and it would solve her problems? Well, it might. But when that little remark about Matthew was the best he could do--Matthew whose heroic death she'd gone to extraordinary lengths to invent off the top of her head, not three hours ago-it might not. No. Not if she stood on the drop with her head in the noose and the hangman ready to kick the stool away. Not when his balls were in the noose.

It was time she stared at his waistcoat and ended this to her satisfaction.

"Perhaps not to your face they don't."

"Well, now, I wouldn't know. It's none of my damn business what they get up to behind my back."

"Well of course, there are some women who might think a man desiring them is the answer to certain prayers--"

"Not me. That would depend on what the woman was praying for."

"--not to mention so very generous of you, my lord. In more ways than one, too. Although you can forgive me for thinking, seeing as the doxy you brought to Chessington looked to have cost about half that farthing-"

"I asked you a question."

"Really? About what exactly?"

"About the average cost in a military brothel, as opposed to a high-"

"And you're peeping in my window because you can't afford either? And you somehow think widow means desperate and you won't have to pay me anything at all? Goodness. How enlightening in fact."

Surprise needn't flicker. This was going to end now as it should have five minutes ago. Just wait till she told Ruby and Pearl one problem had been dealt with. He strolled off into the darkness. The matter was settled. Her ability to master a situation was undiminished. It might even be that her other problem was halfway to Reading by now, visiting some relative, or other. Casing some property. What more could she ask?

She flicked her gaze upwards.

"But you do know there are penalties for causing such distress?"

"That depends on to whom."

"Oh, really? Well, let's just say I was distressed, especially as I was wearing nothing at the time."

"And you think I was looking?"

"I'm afraid I don't just think. I know."

"Maybe that's because you're a little short sighted. No, no, Mrs. Armstrong, you've got this all wrong. I was congratulating you actually."

"Congratulating me? You mean you liked what you saw?"

His gaze flicked over her. "Not exactly. No. I'm congratulating you on the fact that most women wouldn't have stepped outside. That almost certainly most women wouldn't have stepped outside dressed, or rather not dressed ... "

"All right."

He narrowed his gaze, obviously taken aback by the briskness of her interruption.

"A-kiss." She was taken aback herself.What else could she do now he'd gotten one up on her, though? "I-I'll do it."

"But-"

"Now."

Anyway what would a kiss prove? It was hardly evidence for a court of law. What was he going to say exactly? 'I know it's her by the way she kisses, my lord.' Imagine the treat that would go down. Kissing? A hanging offense? Most of the realm would be dead. So why worry?

Well? Because she'd kept her lips to herself since that Christmas Eve. She kept a lot of herself to herself. Surprising, but there it was. So long as he didn't ask for anything else it was fine. Besides his look wasn't so harlot hardened, so sin ridden as it had been at Chessington.

"All right," he said.

She lifted her chin, met his mouth. She didn't know what to expect with a libertine like him, who wasn't likely to appreciate coy innocence, or crass inexperience. But his mouth was soft, like gossamer.

It was amazing that she should know, should remember, through her screaming lack of experience, how to do this, and should find herself responding to his tempting taste, the warm scent of cedar wood. She parted her lips further. And further still in answer to his response, as if she tasted something that couldn't possibly be that delicious, she needed to taste a little more to find out. And having satisfied herself what was on the spoonful was that sumptuous, she wanted the whole dish. Then she wanted to lick it clean.

It was especially amazing when ... Cass's gaze squinted sideways. Jesus God, was that Ruby coming along the path?