It too suits you.’ The humour was reflected in her eyes as she echoed his words. ‘I think, since our relationship is to be both informal and of short duration, that we can manage on such intimate terms. It’s not as if there will be any witnesses.’
‘You intrigue me. I take it, then, that you do not aspire to Charlotte du Pres’s position?’
A flash of anger was quickly disguised. ‘No, I want no such relationship with you. Nor do I want any financial recompense, nor any presents nor anything at all of that sort. Let us be clear on that now, Lord—Kit, please.’ She reached out, touched his arm lightly with the tips of her fingers, then quickly withdrew. Even such a tiny touch sent tingles up and down her skin.
‘I can see you are serious. You are not someone who lies easily, are you? Whatever your game, you have honest eyes,’ Kit said wryly. ‘So, no presents. Well, it will be a refreshing change, certainly. But you are happy for Charlotte’s position to remain unchallenged?’ Kit had already decided she didn’t need to know that Charlotte was already history.
His question gave Clarissa pause. If he got rid of Charlotte du Pres, then it created a vacancy, and it was likely he’d offer it to Amelia. It had been no part of her plan to comment on his current mistress, but perhaps, now that the opportunity had arisen, it was worth while?
‘Are you contemplating a replacement? I thought you said last night that the rumours concerning Miss Warrington had no substance?’
‘I said she would not be my wife. I have no need of a wife, when I can take my pleasures outside the marriage bed. From what I have seen of matrimony, there are few pleasures to be had there. Daily, the scandal sheets give us another tale of adultery and bastard children. And behind it, heartbreak for someone—the children, at the very least. Matrimony does not require affection. I have no wish to sample the insipid and dutiful caresses of a virgin wife. There is naught to substitute for experience. But you already know my feelings on this subject. I’m more interested in why you bring Amelia Warrington into the conversation again. Has she put you up to this?’
‘No, no, I assure you she has not.’ At least that was the truth. In fact, if Amelia found out, she would never forgive her. ‘But I am a little acquainted with her, and I cannot feel she would make you a very good mistress. She wants to be your wife—she is hardly likely to be happy settling for less. No, on consideration, I think Charlotte du Pres is much more suited to your needs.’
Kit smiled, humour lurking deep in his midnight-blue eyes. Looking into them, laughing complicitly, Clarrie was suddenly breathless. His mouth, which he normally held in a firm, hard line, had softened, and there was a slight growth of stubble on his jaw. She had a sudden urge to run her hand along it, to feel the contrast between the roughness there and the smooth contours of his lips. Clarrie felt her mouth go dry at the thought, and licked her own lips nervously. She had never felt such blatant attraction emanating from a man.
Reminding herself that it was exactly this attraction he traded on, she looked away. ‘I didn’t come here to give you advice about your mistresses, but you did ask. I am aware that this is not really a conversation we should be having.’
Kit laughed out loud at this. ‘My dear Clarissa, you shouldn’t even be here, let alone discussing such intimate matters with me. But that hasn’t stopped you. However, I think you’re right about Amelia Warrington, I think she is likely to be rather too demanding. And virgins, you know, can be so unsatisfying. I prefer my women to know what pleasures a man.’
‘Oh! Well—well, I think then you can quite safely dismiss Amelia Warrington.’
‘You seem sure of her. She won’t be a virgin for long, you know. It may not be me, but she will be plucked soon. And likely not by a husband. She aims high.’
‘Is she really so bad? She is young, you know, but not—not calculating.’
‘You don’t know her at all well if you think so. She is a pretty and very ambitious young woman. Though in my experience, she has the kind of looks that fade quickly. Any man can see that he has no need to offer marriage to have her. It’s just a question of how high she’ll sell herself. I’m not personally convinced it’s a price worth paying.’ Looking at Clarissa, he was surprised to see the hurt on her face. He possessed himself of her hand. ‘It’s the way of the world. She will take me not because she likes me better, but because I have more money. You are wasting your energies, concerning yourself with such a one. She will go her own way, and no friend will stop her.’
Looking into Kit’s eyes, such a piercing, deep, dark blue colour, and for once showing such genuine concern, Clarissa acknowledged that he spoke the truth. But Amelia was her sister. She couldn’t give up on her, it wasn’t yet too late. And if nothing else, she could make sure that Amelia didn’t throw herself away on this man.
With a sigh, and a renewed determination to get her proposition finally out of the way this evening, Clarrie smiled up at Kit. ‘We’ve wasted enough time discussing other women. I’ve no aspirations to replace them in your affections. What I want from you is temporary.’
‘You’re frank, at least. Tell me then, precisely what is it you want me for—temporarily.’
‘I will, then. But you must hear me out without interruptions, for it is vital that I make the terms as clear as possible—do you understand?’
His lips twitched as he repressed a smile, but Kit simply nodded his assent and sat back to watch her. This was proving to be worth every minute. Not once this evening had he been bored.
‘I said I did not want to replace Miss du Pres, or anyone else—any of your opera singers or bits of fancy or whatever term you prefer.’ Clarissa looked up, flushing. ‘You’re laughing at me?’
‘No, no, I promise. I am merely impressed at your opinion of my prowess. Just how many of these bits of fancy am I supposed to be maintaining at one time? I am but a man, you know.’
A small gurgle of laughter escaped Clarrie. Shocking as this conversation was, it was more shockingly fun. ‘Well, you told me yourself that your reputation is very bad, so I naturally assumed that you would place quantity over quality.’
At this, Kit gave an amused chuckle. ‘No, I assure you, Clarissa, you are mistaken. I very much prefer quality, it’s just that it is so difficult to come by. However, I am interrupting you once again. Please do continue, this is most—most—intriguing.’
‘Well, I’m glad to hear you say that you would prefer quality, because that’s what I’m offering. I’m four-and-twenty, and it is way past time I was married. But marriage, as you’ve said yourself, is a lifetime commitment to boredom, and for a lady, especially, promises no real pleasure.’ A deep blush was stealing over Clarissa’s cheeks, but she was determined to get this over with, no matter how embarrassing it all was. ‘However, married I must be, and soon, or I will be too old.’
Looking up, Clarissa saw unease writ large on Kit’s handsome face. She hastened to reassure him. ‘Fear not, I have no matrimonial expectations of you. I am under no illusions there, and must aim rather lower, for I have neither dowry nor traditional beauty. I have someone in mind, you know, but the problem is that he is just a little staid and more than a little old.’ Ruthlessly thrusting her neighbour Bingley Smythington into the role to give her lies some authenticity, Clarrie shuddered effectively. Bingley had clammy hands, and such a bumptious manner, as well as being nearer fifty than forty, that she had no qualms about using him so ill. ‘So I thought, while I resigned myself to a life of propriety, that I might indulge myself first,
