one. “I have dogs.” He paused. “And a mistress.”
She gasped.
He held her gaze so there could be no mistaking his meaning. “Believe me, Lady Georgina, I have everything I need from a woman.”
Her tiny heart-shaped jaw flexed as she fought to control her temper. “Every man needs a wife.”
Her stubborn adherence to an ideal that had been promoted by a bunch of silly old women in drawing rooms was beginning to make him angry. That and the continued reference to a wife. He’d had a wife. One that had made a fool of him.
“I assure you I don’t.” He looked deep into her eyes and slowly moved his gaze over her breasts and hips, visualizing her naked. The formfitting gown she wore didn’t leave much to the imagination, revealing the round fullness of her breasts and the pale ivory flesh of her décolletage. He didn’t bother hiding his lust, letting her see what he wanted—all that he wanted. “A wife does not provide anything that I couldn’t get for a shilling and a bottle of cheap rum from any Cheapside whore.”
She gasped in outrage. Her eyes blazed. She looked as though she itched to slap him. “How dare you utter such vile—”
“It is you who dare too much. I don’t need anyone telling me what I need.” He took a step closer, a movement designed to intimidate. He tried not to notice the angry pink flush of her cheeks or the heady, sweet rose of her perfume. Or the way her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her gown as they rose and fell in anger. God, her nipples were hard. And so was he. Instantly.
“And what of affection, Lord Coventry?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I believe I mentioned my dogs. I would certainly not look to the inconstancy of a woman’s heart for affection.”
“And love? What of love? Would you look to your dogs for that as well?”
“You surprise me, Lady Georgina. Surely a mature woman as yourself does not believe in fairy tales? Can that be why you have refused all those offers? Because you were not ‘in love?’” He sneered at the last two words.
“I hope to be fortunate enough to marry for love,” she said tightly.
He shook his head pityingly. “Then you are looking in the wrong direction.” He lowered his voice in warning. “You don’t want to play with me, my dear. I bite. Run along and find someone who might be interested in your wares. I assure you, you have nothing I haven’t seen a thousand times before.”
He turned on his heel and left her standing there sputtering in indignation.
What a horrible, wretched man, Gina fumed as he sauntered away, disgustingly pleased with himself. He had the manners of a guttersnipe and the charm of an asp. How dare he compare a wife to a dog—or to a mistress for that matter. Did the man not possess one shred of decency? To mention a whore in the presence of a young lady was the absolute height of impropriety.
Just thinking about it made her furious. She couldn’t believe she’d actually had a moment—a twinge—of guilt about what she planned to do. But conscious of where she was, Gina did her best to control her emotions lest their heated conversation attract undo interest. Enough curious eyes had been directed their way as it was.
That had not gone at all as planned. It wasn’t just that he’d offended her sense of propriety by referring to his mistress and whores, but he’d dismissed Gina’s qualifications out of hand. And worse, he’d provided acceptable alternatives. In a matter of minutes, Coventry had rejected a lifetime of education and training.
But he was wrong. A wife was a valuable asset.
And she was going to prove it.
Her anger cooled, Gina surveyed the room for Lady Augusta, finding her in a group of women that included the Duchess of St. Albans and the Countess of Coventry. Gina squared her shoulders and marched toward them. The day some degenerate reprobate got the best of her was the day Gina renounced society and entered a nunnery (which would be
She gasped.
He held her gaze so there could be no mistaking his meaning. “Believe me, Lady Georgina, I have everything I need from a woman.”
Her tiny heart-shaped jaw flexed as she fought to control her temper. “Every man needs a wife.”
Her stubborn adherence to an ideal that had been promoted by a bunch of silly old women in drawing rooms was beginning to make him angry. That and the continued reference to a wife. He’d had a wife. One that had made a fool of him.
“I assure you I don’t.” He looked deep into her eyes and slowly moved his gaze over her breasts and hips, visualizing her naked. The formfitting gown she wore didn’t leave much to the imagination, revealing the round fullness of her breasts and the pale ivory flesh of her décolletage. He didn’t bother hiding his lust, letting her see what he wanted—all that he wanted. “A wife does not provide anything that I couldn’t get for a shilling and a bottle of cheap rum from any Cheapside whore.”
She gasped in outrage. Her eyes blazed. She looked as though she itched to slap him. “How dare you utter such vile—”
“It is you who dare too much. I don’t need anyone telling me what I need.” He took a step closer, a movement designed to intimidate. He tried not to notice the angry pink flush of her cheeks or the heady, sweet rose of her perfume. Or the way her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her gown as they rose and fell in anger. God, her nipples were hard. And so was he. Instantly.
“And what of affection, Lord Coventry?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I believe I mentioned my dogs. I would certainly not look to the inconstancy of a woman’s heart for affection.”
“And love? What of love? Would you look to your dogs for that as well?”
“You surprise me, Lady Georgina. Surely a mature woman as yourself does not believe in fairy tales? Can that be why you have refused all those offers? Because you were not ‘in love?’” He sneered at the last two words.
“I hope to be fortunate enough to marry for love,” she said tightly.
He shook his head pityingly. “Then you are looking in the wrong direction.” He lowered his voice in warning. “You don’t want to play with me, my dear. I bite. Run along and find someone who might be interested in your wares. I assure you, you have nothing I haven’t seen a thousand times before.”
He turned on his heel and left her standing there sputtering in indignation.
What a horrible, wretched man, Gina fumed as he sauntered away, disgustingly pleased with himself. He had the manners of a guttersnipe and the charm of an asp. How dare he compare a wife to a dog—or to a mistress for that matter. Did the man not possess one shred of decency? To mention a whore in the presence of a young lady was the absolute height of impropriety.
Just thinking about it made her furious. She couldn’t believe she’d actually had a moment—a twinge—of guilt about what she planned to do. But conscious of where she was, Gina did her best to control her emotions lest their heated conversation attract undo interest. Enough curious eyes had been directed their way as it was.
That had not gone at all as planned. It wasn’t just that he’d offended her sense of propriety by referring to his mistress and whores, but he’d dismissed Gina’s qualifications out of hand. And worse, he’d provided acceptable alternatives. In a matter of minutes, Coventry had rejected a lifetime of education and training.
But he was wrong. A wife was a valuable asset.
And she was going to prove it.
Her anger cooled, Gina surveyed the room for Lady Augusta, finding her in a group of women that included the Duchess of St. Albans and the Countess of Coventry. Gina squared her shoulders and marched toward them. The day some degenerate reprobate got the best of her was the day Gina renounced society and entered a nunnery (which would be
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