One Good Earl Deserves a Lover
Page 43
Pippa paused, considering the words. “Is that so?”
“Men are uncomplicated, generally,” Sally said, all too sage. “They’re beasts when they want to be.”
“Brute ones!”
“Ah, so you understand.”
Pippa tilted her head to one side. “I’ve read about them.”
Sally nodded. “Erotic texts?”
“The Book of Common Prayer. But perhaps you have an erotic text you could recommend?”
And there it was—the end of his tether.
“Did you not lose a wager with me that prohibited precisely this kind of interaction?” The words were harsh and unkind. Not that he cared. He turned to Sally. “Leave now, Sally.”
Pippa raised her chin in what he was coming to think of as her most frustrating stance. “I promised no questioning other men. There was nothing in the wager relating to women.”
He opened his mouth to reply. Closed it.
She nodded once, filled with self-satisfaction, and returned her attention to Sally. “Miss Tasser, I assume from what I witnessed that you are clearly skilled . . . at least, Mr. Cross seems to believe so.”
Was she out of her mind?
“Cross and I have, unfortunately, never . . . done business,” Sally said.
Pippa’s mouth fell into a perfect O. “I see,” she said, when she clearly didn’t. “You must be discreet of course. I appreciated that. And I would be happy to pay you for the instruction,” she added. “Would you be willing to visit me at my home?”
He had been wrong; there was the end of his tether.
She would learn nothing from Sally. Nor from Temple. Nor from Castleton, dammit—it didn’t matter that he was her fiancé.
Cross didn’t want anyone touching her.
Not if he couldn’t.
He reached for Pippa, taking her by the arm, pulling her away from Sally, away from whatever scandalous path she had been considering taking. He ignored her gasp of outrage and the way his fingers fairly rejoiced at their contact. “Sally, it is time for you to go.” He turned back to Pippa. “And you. Into my office, before someone discovers you here.”
“The club is closed. Who would discover me?”
“Your brother-in-law, perhaps?”
Pippa remained unmoved. “Bourne and Penelope are fishing today. They left for Falconwell this morning. Back tomorrow.”
“To fish.” If he had an eternity to try, he could not imagine Bourne lakeside, fishing.
“Yes. They’ve fished together for much of their life. I don’t see why it’s such a surprise.”
Sally shook her head. “Tragic when a rogue of Bourne’s caliber goes soft.”
Pippa met her gaze. “I suppose it is for most . . . but my sister seems happy with the results.”
“No doubt she is. Bourne has always been able to keep a lady happy.”
Pippa considered the words for a long moment. “Do you mean to say you have . . . with Bourne?”
“She means no such thing.” He gave Sally a pointed look. “Out.”
The prostitute tilted her head, a wicked gleam in her eye. “I’m afraid I can’t leave, Cross. Not without giving the lady the information she requests.”
Pippa seemed to forget her question about Bourne. Thank heaven. “It’s very kind of you to come to my defense.”
Sally Tasser had spent too long on the streets for kindness. The prostitute did nothing that would not advance her cause. The only reason she was willing to cross Knight was because the Angel offered to pay her triple the amount she received from her current benefactor.
Cross made sure she understood his thoughts with nothing more than a look.
“Sally is leaving, Lady Philippa.” The words came out more harshly than he’d intended. But a man could only be pushed so far.
For a moment, he thought both women would fight him. And then, Sally smiled, tilting her head and turning her coyest smile on him. “Well, someone should answer the lady’s questions.”
Pippa nodded. “It’s true. I will not leave without it.”
The words were out before he could stop them. “I shall answer them.”
Sally looked immensely pleased.
Shit.
There was nothing he wanted to do less than to answer the questions Philippa Marbury had collected in preparation for her lessons from a prostitute.
Pippa’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t know.”
“Cross is highly skilled,” Sally said, extracting herself from Pippa’s grasp, fairly purring the rest. “He knows all your answers, I’m sure.”
Pippa cut him a doubtful look that made him want to prove the prostitute right this very moment.
Sally noticed the exchange and turned a bright, knowing smile on him. “Isn’t that right, Cross? I’m certain you don’t need my help. Aren’t you?”
“I’m certain.” He felt as uncertain as Pippa looked.
“Excellent. I shall see you tomorrow, as planned, then.”
He nodded once.
She turned to Pippa. “It was wonderful meeting you, Lady Philippa. I hope we have the chance to meet again.”
Not if he had anything to say about it.
Once Sally had disappeared through a dark passageway to a rear entrance to the club, he rounded on Philippa. “What would possess you to lie in wait for a prostitute inside a casino?”
There was a long silence, and Cross wondered if she might not reply, which wouldn’t be terrible, as he had had more than enough of her insanity.
But she did reply, eyes wide, voice strong, advancing on him, stalking him across the floor of the casino. “You don’t seem to understand my predicament, Mr. Cross. I have eleven days before I have to take vows before God and man relating to half a dozen things of which I have no knowledge. You and the rest of Christendom—including my sisters, apparently—would have no trouble at all with such an act, but I do have difficulty with it. How am I to take vows that I don’t understand? How am I to marry without knowing all of it? How am I to vow to be a sound wife to Castleton and a mother to his children when I lack the rudimentary understanding of the acts in question?”
“Men are uncomplicated, generally,” Sally said, all too sage. “They’re beasts when they want to be.”
“Brute ones!”
“Ah, so you understand.”
Pippa tilted her head to one side. “I’ve read about them.”
Sally nodded. “Erotic texts?”
“The Book of Common Prayer. But perhaps you have an erotic text you could recommend?”
And there it was—the end of his tether.
“Did you not lose a wager with me that prohibited precisely this kind of interaction?” The words were harsh and unkind. Not that he cared. He turned to Sally. “Leave now, Sally.”
Pippa raised her chin in what he was coming to think of as her most frustrating stance. “I promised no questioning other men. There was nothing in the wager relating to women.”
He opened his mouth to reply. Closed it.
She nodded once, filled with self-satisfaction, and returned her attention to Sally. “Miss Tasser, I assume from what I witnessed that you are clearly skilled . . . at least, Mr. Cross seems to believe so.”
Was she out of her mind?
“Cross and I have, unfortunately, never . . . done business,” Sally said.
Pippa’s mouth fell into a perfect O. “I see,” she said, when she clearly didn’t. “You must be discreet of course. I appreciated that. And I would be happy to pay you for the instruction,” she added. “Would you be willing to visit me at my home?”
He had been wrong; there was the end of his tether.
She would learn nothing from Sally. Nor from Temple. Nor from Castleton, dammit—it didn’t matter that he was her fiancé.
Cross didn’t want anyone touching her.
Not if he couldn’t.
He reached for Pippa, taking her by the arm, pulling her away from Sally, away from whatever scandalous path she had been considering taking. He ignored her gasp of outrage and the way his fingers fairly rejoiced at their contact. “Sally, it is time for you to go.” He turned back to Pippa. “And you. Into my office, before someone discovers you here.”
“The club is closed. Who would discover me?”
“Your brother-in-law, perhaps?”
Pippa remained unmoved. “Bourne and Penelope are fishing today. They left for Falconwell this morning. Back tomorrow.”
“To fish.” If he had an eternity to try, he could not imagine Bourne lakeside, fishing.
“Yes. They’ve fished together for much of their life. I don’t see why it’s such a surprise.”
Sally shook her head. “Tragic when a rogue of Bourne’s caliber goes soft.”
Pippa met her gaze. “I suppose it is for most . . . but my sister seems happy with the results.”
“No doubt she is. Bourne has always been able to keep a lady happy.”
Pippa considered the words for a long moment. “Do you mean to say you have . . . with Bourne?”
“She means no such thing.” He gave Sally a pointed look. “Out.”
The prostitute tilted her head, a wicked gleam in her eye. “I’m afraid I can’t leave, Cross. Not without giving the lady the information she requests.”
Pippa seemed to forget her question about Bourne. Thank heaven. “It’s very kind of you to come to my defense.”
Sally Tasser had spent too long on the streets for kindness. The prostitute did nothing that would not advance her cause. The only reason she was willing to cross Knight was because the Angel offered to pay her triple the amount she received from her current benefactor.
Cross made sure she understood his thoughts with nothing more than a look.
“Sally is leaving, Lady Philippa.” The words came out more harshly than he’d intended. But a man could only be pushed so far.
For a moment, he thought both women would fight him. And then, Sally smiled, tilting her head and turning her coyest smile on him. “Well, someone should answer the lady’s questions.”
Pippa nodded. “It’s true. I will not leave without it.”
The words were out before he could stop them. “I shall answer them.”
Sally looked immensely pleased.
Shit.
There was nothing he wanted to do less than to answer the questions Philippa Marbury had collected in preparation for her lessons from a prostitute.
Pippa’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t know.”
“Cross is highly skilled,” Sally said, extracting herself from Pippa’s grasp, fairly purring the rest. “He knows all your answers, I’m sure.”
Pippa cut him a doubtful look that made him want to prove the prostitute right this very moment.
Sally noticed the exchange and turned a bright, knowing smile on him. “Isn’t that right, Cross? I’m certain you don’t need my help. Aren’t you?”
“I’m certain.” He felt as uncertain as Pippa looked.
“Excellent. I shall see you tomorrow, as planned, then.”
He nodded once.
She turned to Pippa. “It was wonderful meeting you, Lady Philippa. I hope we have the chance to meet again.”
Not if he had anything to say about it.
Once Sally had disappeared through a dark passageway to a rear entrance to the club, he rounded on Philippa. “What would possess you to lie in wait for a prostitute inside a casino?”
There was a long silence, and Cross wondered if she might not reply, which wouldn’t be terrible, as he had had more than enough of her insanity.
But she did reply, eyes wide, voice strong, advancing on him, stalking him across the floor of the casino. “You don’t seem to understand my predicament, Mr. Cross. I have eleven days before I have to take vows before God and man relating to half a dozen things of which I have no knowledge. You and the rest of Christendom—including my sisters, apparently—would have no trouble at all with such an act, but I do have difficulty with it. How am I to take vows that I don’t understand? How am I to marry without knowing all of it? How am I to vow to be a sound wife to Castleton and a mother to his children when I lack the rudimentary understanding of the acts in question?”
