the usual means will not suffice. I doubt my own ability to be responsible and will expect you to take instruction from Mrs. Beales, unless you are acquainted already with a method you prefer. She is my housekeeper, probably lurking at the keyhole right now although she has heard most of this before.”
“How delightful,” Clare murmured, sipping her coffee.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Bryn came to his feet. “I’ll make certain we are not disturbed.”
When he returned, Clare was leaning over the window seat, reaching for a book. She jerked up and spun around, hands clasped guiltily behind her back. As if she’d been caught pilfering the silver, he thought. “Mrs. Beales has suddenly remembered an errand across town,” he said, moving to the window. “I brought these for you. I’ve no idea what you like to read, but if it cannot be found in my library, we’ll spend an afternoon browsing the bookshops.”
Her gloved fingers reached out to stroke the leather bindings. “Truly? Anything I want?”
Bryn wondered if she would ever caress him as lovingly as she touched those old books. Suddenly jealous of paper, glue, and ink, he was relieved when she pulled herself away from the small library and resumed her place on the sofa.
“I have—a few questions,” she said in a stoic voice.
“Be free with them.” He lowered himself onto the chair and folded his arms. “Things will go better if there are no misunderstandings.”
“When do I get the money?” she asked bluntly.
“Not in advance,” he replied with equal bluntness.
“The next morning?” she persisted. “In full?”
“My dear, this is haggling. Do you imagine I will not honor my end of the agreement?”
Her eyes flashed. “Do you imagine I will not?”
“I cannot be sure—of anything—until the arrangement is consummated.” He bit his tongue. Devil take it, he was doing it again: attacking when he meant to conciliate. And she was reaching for that damned hat. “Clare, if you accept my offer I shall proceed to Child’s bank first thing tomorrow and secure ten thousand pounds—”
“Guineas.”
“Guineas.” Mercenary little witch. “But it will be a draft, not cash. That is too much money for either of us to carry around. And I’ll present it to you, with a great flourish, when next we meet. Agreed?”
“So long as the draft can be negotiated when and where I choose. How long will it take for me to earn it?”
He sat up, hands planted on his knees. “What do you mean?”
“What I asked,” she replied with a touch of impatience. “I understand now that you do not mean this to be the simple exchange of my virginity for payment, and that you expect me to remain with you for a period of time. I want to know how long.”
“I damn well don’t want an indentured servant, marking off a calendar and counting down each night before she can pack up and disappear.”
“But there must be a limit, don’t you see? I need to know how soon I can leave without cheating you.”
He stiffened. “The terms of our agreement end when I say so.”
“Then you must say so now.”
Devil take it, who was in charge here? “If you insist on some arbitrary date, I shall provide one. Let us say, ten years from today.”
“That is not reasonable,” she chided. “And if I irritate you as much as I obviously do, it would be a very long ten years.”
Laughing, he took a square of shortbread and waved it in the air. “I’ll not bargain with you, Clare. Your forced servitude is done when you expected it to be, after the first night we make love. If you choose to leave after that, I’ll not hold you.”
For once, he seemed to have unnerved her. “That is . . . remarkably generous,” she said.
“So it is. But if you stay, you’ll discover exactly how generous I can be. Bloody hell, lady, I’ve made concessions that weren’t demanded of Bonaparte after Waterloo. Perhaps you will keep that in mind.” Leaning forward, he gazed at her
“How delightful,” Clare murmured, sipping her coffee.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Bryn came to his feet. “I’ll make certain we are not disturbed.”
When he returned, Clare was leaning over the window seat, reaching for a book. She jerked up and spun around, hands clasped guiltily behind her back. As if she’d been caught pilfering the silver, he thought. “Mrs. Beales has suddenly remembered an errand across town,” he said, moving to the window. “I brought these for you. I’ve no idea what you like to read, but if it cannot be found in my library, we’ll spend an afternoon browsing the bookshops.”
Her gloved fingers reached out to stroke the leather bindings. “Truly? Anything I want?”
Bryn wondered if she would ever caress him as lovingly as she touched those old books. Suddenly jealous of paper, glue, and ink, he was relieved when she pulled herself away from the small library and resumed her place on the sofa.
“I have—a few questions,” she said in a stoic voice.
“Be free with them.” He lowered himself onto the chair and folded his arms. “Things will go better if there are no misunderstandings.”
“When do I get the money?” she asked bluntly.
“Not in advance,” he replied with equal bluntness.
“The next morning?” she persisted. “In full?”
“My dear, this is haggling. Do you imagine I will not honor my end of the agreement?”
Her eyes flashed. “Do you imagine I will not?”
“I cannot be sure—of anything—until the arrangement is consummated.” He bit his tongue. Devil take it, he was doing it again: attacking when he meant to conciliate. And she was reaching for that damned hat. “Clare, if you accept my offer I shall proceed to Child’s bank first thing tomorrow and secure ten thousand pounds—”
“Guineas.”
“Guineas.” Mercenary little witch. “But it will be a draft, not cash. That is too much money for either of us to carry around. And I’ll present it to you, with a great flourish, when next we meet. Agreed?”
“So long as the draft can be negotiated when and where I choose. How long will it take for me to earn it?”
He sat up, hands planted on his knees. “What do you mean?”
“What I asked,” she replied with a touch of impatience. “I understand now that you do not mean this to be the simple exchange of my virginity for payment, and that you expect me to remain with you for a period of time. I want to know how long.”
“I damn well don’t want an indentured servant, marking off a calendar and counting down each night before she can pack up and disappear.”
“But there must be a limit, don’t you see? I need to know how soon I can leave without cheating you.”
He stiffened. “The terms of our agreement end when I say so.”
“Then you must say so now.”
Devil take it, who was in charge here? “If you insist on some arbitrary date, I shall provide one. Let us say, ten years from today.”
“That is not reasonable,” she chided. “And if I irritate you as much as I obviously do, it would be a very long ten years.”
Laughing, he took a square of shortbread and waved it in the air. “I’ll not bargain with you, Clare. Your forced servitude is done when you expected it to be, after the first night we make love. If you choose to leave after that, I’ll not hold you.”
For once, he seemed to have unnerved her. “That is . . . remarkably generous,” she said.
“So it is. But if you stay, you’ll discover exactly how generous I can be. Bloody hell, lady, I’ve made concessions that weren’t demanded of Bonaparte after Waterloo. Perhaps you will keep that in mind.” Leaning forward, he gazed at her
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