‘If I had said yes, then we could discuss whether I would become a cheap whore or an expensive whore. As I am not about to become any kind of whore, the question is academic.’
‘Don’t use that word, Celina.’ Quinn frowned at her. Ah, she had succeeded in ruffling his feathers, had she? Perhaps he was a little hypocritical after all. ‘I asked you to be my mistress, not to share your favours around my male acquaintance.’
They were uncomfortably close, even though he remained still, arms folded. ‘So a financial arrangement, being kept, does not make me a whore?’
Lina did not know where she found the nerve to stand up and argue back at him like this. It was as though it was too important to back away from, a point of principle to be fought over. It was a completely different situation, for this man was not uttering threats, but she felt the same courage seeping into her as she had when she had confronted Makepeace.
Somewhere along the road on her panicky flight from the vicarage she had acquired the steel to stand her ground and fight. Lina caught her breath; she was so used to being the timid sister, the nervous one who would not say boo to a goose, that the discovery that she had changed without noticing was as stunning as Quinn’s immoral proposal.
‘Marriage is a financial arrangement,’ Quinn pointed out. Lina jerked her attention back to the man in front of her. ‘Or did you marry your husband out of love? It does not sound like it.’
‘I had no choice in what I did,’ she said tightly. But I had; I could have run away again. Yet I did not, I stayed and tried to do something for Aunt Clara and the girls. I am not a mouse any more… ‘I was forced into it by threats to other people. But marriage is—should be—permanent. It gives protection to children…’
She felt her voice trailing away as she thought of the sort of protection that her own mother’s marriage had given her. ‘What am I supposed to do when you go abroad again, or tire of me? Find another man, presumably.’
‘You have an inheritance already. I will make sure that when we part you will never, unless you wish, have to give yourself to another man. I do not promise you luxury, Celina, but I will ensure you have independence, provided you are prudent.’
Why me? The question came into her head like a bucket of cold water thrown over her disordered thoughts. Here was this attractive, experienced man taking the trouble to make her a thoughtful offer that took account of her circumstances, an offer that made her, despite her fears and her scruples, feel flustered and flattered and tempted.
Because I am convenient, that is why, not because I am special to him in any way. Quinn is tied by the need to deal with his uncle’s legacy, with the memoirs. He doesn’t have time to spend just now to find a congenial mistress, sort out arrangements. But here I am, just along the corridor, a woman of some experience, so he thinks, and one in a position of weakness he can exploit.
‘Why me?’ Lina asked, making her voice soft, hiding the anger that was not directed at him as much as it was at her own foolish fantasy that he was attracted to her.
The question threw him off balance, the first time she had seen Quinn Ashley at a loss. Women did not ask why? when a man like this picked them out; they were expected to smile gratefully and say yes. ‘You are a very attractive woman,’ he said after a moment. ‘I like you, I thought you were…that you did not dislike me.’
‘And I am so convenient,’ Lina said, sliding the comment in with a smile.
‘Yes—’ Quinn must have seen the trap yawning at his feet for he sidestepped it with enviable ease ‘—if convenience is a factor in such things. Mutual attraction is, surely, what matters.’
‘Then how fortunate that you are so attractive and charming and sophisticated and experienced, my lord,’ Lina murmured. Quinn narrowed his eyes and unfolded his arms. Something in her tone was obviously not convincing him. ‘However, I do not find that outweighs the fact that you find it acceptable to take advantage of my situation to gratify your own desires.’
‘Damn it, Celina.’ He straightened up, frowning, and reached for her.
‘Call me a dreamer, my lord,’ she said, sidestepping, ‘but I really could not care less if a man has looks, charm and experience. Or money. All I want from a man is someone who holds me in affection, thinks of me as a person, not as a commodity.’
She remembered some of the girls at The Blue Door talking about their clients. It isn’t that he is unkind, one said of a particular man, but he doesn’t think of me at all, just what I give him. He looks right through me.
‘You want me to say I love you? Is that what you want?’ Quinn demanded. ‘If lies smooth the path, then lies you can have, Celina. But I thought you more honest than that.’
‘Now you are insulting my intelligence, and my emotions,’ she said between stiff lips. ‘Nothing you could say would make me believe that you loved me, and nothing you can do will bring me to your bed. Is that clear enough?’
‘Are you not afraid I will seek out your husband and hold that over your head?’ he enquired. ‘You seem to be attributing the worst of motives to me.’
‘No, I do not,’ Lina said. ‘To behave like that would offend your sense of honour and you would not want to do anything to lower yourself in your own esteem, would you?’
She turned on her heel and walked away, heart pounding, hardly able to breathe with tension. Behind her the silence was more frightening than an explosion of wrath would have been.
Chapter Nine
Quinn stared after Celina’s retreating form, incredulity and anger fighting for supremacy. Of all the infuriating, sanctimonious, unreasonable females it had been his misfortune to encounter, she was the worst. She wasn’t repelled by him—she wasn’t that good an actress. She was in a situation where he would have expected her to welcome any help she could get and instead she stuck her self-righteous little nose in the air and carried on as though he was some ancient lecher attempting to corrupt a virgin.
What were her alternatives? Creep back to her husband and hope to be forgiven? Well, no, not if the man was unkind to her. But she had made her bed and if she was not prepared to lie on it—or his—then her options were severely limited.
She had as good as told him she would only sleep with him if he professed an emotional attachment, then snubbed him when he refused to go along with such nonsense and, to cap it all, she sneered at his sense of honour.
What Mrs Celina Whatever deserves is for me to find out exactly who she is, Quinn thought, striking off across the lawn towards the stables. That would bring her to an understanding of just how lucky she was to have a generous offer made to her by a man of principle who was capable of protecting her.
No, it wouldn’t, he told himself a minute later, kicking a dandy brush clear across the stable yard. It would confirm all the things she thinks of me.