“He was busy being admired by his set, and your mother held court with a few other matrons,” Mr. Fairbanks said drily. “Come with me.”
Nerves and thrills went through her in equal measure as Cressida hurried with him down the empty hallway that might not remain that way for long. The fear that they might be caught any minute fueled her forward motion, and it was with a sense of relief she slipped inside the room which he indicated. A quick impression gleaned from the light in the hallway was a small parlor, but as he closed the door, they were enveloped in immediate darkness.
Cressida gasped, then stilled when the softsnickof the door echoed in the silence.
“Do you mean to ravish me now?” she asked tremulously.
“I am not that much of a knave, my sweet,” he drawled, amusement rich in his tone. “In truth, I am no knave at all.”
As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized the soft moonlight from outside spilled through the open windows, painting them in silver and moonbeams.
He prowled over to her until she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “Now tell me, why do you want to be…seducedandravished.”
“I already told you,” she whispered.
He leaned in close—uncomfortably yet also thrillingly close. “Ah, yes, you have no wish to marry the gentleman you were in love with only last week,” he chided. “I daresay the lady has an inconstant heart.”
The mild rebuke stung and she stiffened. “I never proclaimed myself to be in love with the marquess! To you or the gentleman in question.”
Mr. Fairbank’s gaze sharpened with interest. “Do you not love him then?”
A soft shudder went through her at the rough intensity of his tone.
She lifted her chin. “No.”
“Lady Cressida—”
“I thought the marquess could be a man I love. Ilikedhim. Greatly. I thought him an amusing conversationalist. He was kind. And he gave the appearance of a man who admired me and might also be on the cusp of falling,” she snapped, so irritated she jabbed Mr. Fairbanks on his chest with a finger. “It was he who proved himself inconstant, and I have no wish to accept his proposal, but my parents are insistent upon it.”
“I’ve heard you are over one and twenty. Simply do not agree to it.”
“You do not know the marquess as I do. He…he does not lose. He is arrogant and proud and…” She took a steady breath. “The marquess will not accept that I will not marry him unless…”
Understanding dawned in his gaze. “Unless he believes you irretrievably ruined….seduced…ravished.”
She felt warmth rise in her throat and face. “Yes.”
A long, fraught silence fell and then he murmured, “And you picked me.”
There was something sinful in his voice that made her feel muddled. “Yes,” she whispered. “That is to say, I agree to kisses as your reward. And perhaps…perhaps even more.”
A look she did not understand leaped into his eyes. “You wicked little minx,” he murmured raggedly. “My vanity is flattered.”
Another silence blanketed the room, a fine tension shimmering in the air. Finally, he said, “There is a flaw with your plan.”
Her heart sank. “You are not willing?”
He went perfectly still and held her gaze. “Oh, I amverywilling.”
Oh God. The hungry way he said that had a feeling of excitement tumbling low in her belly to settle as an ache. That Cress had never felt such a sensation before filled her with restless curiosity. She was suddenly extremely conscious of his virile appeal.
“The marquess might not believe you to be ruined and still press his suit.”
“I am certain once he sees your painting, he will believe it, Mr. Fairbanks.”
“Ah.”
Cressida held herself still as he leaned toward her and brushed the corner of her lips with his mouth.Goodness gracious. She couldn’t escape the feeling that he tested her. Turning her head slightly, brought her lips much closer to his and they both froze.