“You’re right,” she gasped. She swallowed. “If that man had ruined me forcefully,” she said, “my father would’ve simply forced me to marry him.”
He gave a tight nod. “Yes, I had fear of that.”
“I don’t know if Turnbridge would’ve married me though.” She frowned. “I don’t know if any of the men you warned me of would have married me if I was ruined.”
“Likely not,” he agreed. “But sometimes ruination can be kept a secret and a husband can be found.”
She nodded. “It’s true but what if…”
“What if,” he prompted curious for she looked as if she was building up to say something.
She snapped her gaze to his. “What if I was ruined publicly?”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, not following her sudden tact.
She cleared her throat and took another step towards him, her skirts trailing over his burgundy carpets. “What if I was ruined well and truly with no escape?”
“Your father would no doubt lock you up in a convent.”
“I am almost of age.”
“I see,” he said. “Tell me more.”
She met his gaze and said without hesitation. “I want you to ruin me.”
He took in her declaration but couldn’t fathom her request. “I beg your pardon.”
“One of those gentlemen will make the attempt, Mr. Courtney. I would rather it was you than any of them. And if I’m quite honest, I no longer wish for a husband of the ton. I wish to be free.”
She folded her hands into fists as if she was making a vow to herself. “Completely and totally free. I wish you to ruin me publicly, and then I want you to help me find my independence. I don’t care if I have to leave England. I will go anywhere. The Americas, Italy, Spain, Russia. I don’t care. Somewhere, anywhere away from this place that makes women prisoners.”
He studied her carefully, in awe of her determination and her courage. But first, he needed to make certain she bore no illusions about what she was saying. “Most places make women prisoners, Lady Elizabeth. I do not want you to think anything else.”
She closed her eyes as if she was doing all she could to hold her nerve. Her eyes opened and she insisted, “But I will have a fortune. And a lady of a great fortune? Well, she can do what she pleases, can she not?”
“Often money is a great protector,” he agreed.
“So will you do it?” she demanded. “Will you not be the man who ruins me?”
“I will consider it,” he said.
“I don’t want you to consider it. I want you to say yes or I want you to say no.” She let out a sound of dismay then burst out, “Am I not pleasing to you?”
He coughed. “Pleasing?”
She gestured to herself. “Yes. Do you not find me desirable? I am the diamond of the season. Most people think I am.”
He closed the distance between them, towering over her as he declared, “Most people think you are shiny and bright and the perfect accoutrement to their wealth and their titles. That is not generally what I am looking for.”
Her shoulders sank. “You wish for something more…”
“Common?” he supplied.
She frowned. “I did not know what word to choose.”
“No,” he said softly. “But am I truly what you desire?”
She stared up at him, her eyes ablaze with determination. “I have yet to meet a man who was truly interested in my soul, my heart, and my mind. All that they care about is my exterior and the fortune that I have in the bank, the title that I was born with, and that which I can bring to a marriage. But you? You are not like that.”