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Authors: Madeline Hunter
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way she had told Southwaite she would. Instead she spent the whole night thinking about it. She hadtried to give fair and honest thought to the misunderstanding with which it began.
In hindsight, she had to admit that his reading of her advertisement had not been entirely implausible. Their conversation, which had been a comedy of misconstruction, might have even given him reason to think she was amenable to his scandalous proposal. However, as a gentleman he should have made sure that she did not mind being propositioned before assuming that she would agree to
his
proposition. His boldness could not be excused.
The night being long and her thoughts being deep, she had inevitably pondered why an earl would be interested in Emma Fairbourne at all, least of all as a mistress. It really made no sense, unless Southwaite preferred women far below him in station and was not above taking advantage of a situation where one dropped into his lap. The lower born, the more grateful, no doubt. The more ordinary, the more in awe of him. The less wealthy, the cheaper to impress.
His interest was not to his credit, nor to hers. And so, when her sleepy thoughts had wandered into speculating what it was like to be such a man’s mistress, she mostly managed to stop them before they drifted to the physical parts of such arrangements. Unfortunately, one thought snuck there anyway, and shocked her by provoking lazy titillations that slyly aroused her before she realized what was happening.
The memory of that made her feel ridiculous now. The entire Outrageous Misconception did. The only good thing to come out of the upsetting episode was that, once more, she had bought some time.
He had come to demand Fairbourne’s be sold, she was quite sure. He would return to raise the question eventually. She counted on him being embarrassed enough by the Outrageous Misconception that he would not press his case for at least a few days.
“Cassandra, I know that you think flirting is as normal as breathing, and part of a man’s charm when he possessesany at all. However, do you think…I found myself wondering last night if perhaps my advertisement might be misunderstood by some of these young men.”
“Misunderstood? How so?”
“Is it possible that some of them believed the employment to be not only special and pleasurable, but also private? Very private.”
Cassandra thought that very funny. She answered between giggles. “I suppose if a man were inclined to assume you were desperate, he might. Or that I was, come to think about it. After all, you might have been aiding me in the search, not I aiding you.” She grinned while she patted Emma’s hand. “Believe me, when women do write advertisements such as you imply, there is nothing subtle about it. Only an idiot would assume that your situation involved nothing more than private intimacies.” She picked up the watch. “We should prepare. I fear it will be a long day.”
While Emma walked with Cassandra up to her bedchamber, Cassandra regaled her with stories of advertisements she had seen by women seeking footmen or workers with strong backs, warm hands, and various other attributes that would ensure the fellow satisfied a most private situation.
Considering that her own advertisement had called for a strong physique, Emma was not nearly as amused as Cassandra expected.
She suspected Cassandra had indeed planned to encourage young men to assume such private pleasures, if not with Emma Fairbourne, then with ladies who patronized the auction house. The new man should not expect the situation to consist of
nothing more
than that, but Cassandra assumed that had been part of Mr. Nightingale’s success, and had implied such duties when she revised the advertisement’s words. Emma felt very stupid that she had, once again, not interpreted Cassandra’s entendres correctly.
If she was right, then the Outrageous Misconception had not been nearly as outrageous as she had thought.
Not that
In hindsight, she had to admit that his reading of her advertisement had not been entirely implausible. Their conversation, which had been a comedy of misconstruction, might have even given him reason to think she was amenable to his scandalous proposal. However, as a gentleman he should have made sure that she did not mind being propositioned before assuming that she would agree to
his
proposition. His boldness could not be excused.
The night being long and her thoughts being deep, she had inevitably pondered why an earl would be interested in Emma Fairbourne at all, least of all as a mistress. It really made no sense, unless Southwaite preferred women far below him in station and was not above taking advantage of a situation where one dropped into his lap. The lower born, the more grateful, no doubt. The more ordinary, the more in awe of him. The less wealthy, the cheaper to impress.
His interest was not to his credit, nor to hers. And so, when her sleepy thoughts had wandered into speculating what it was like to be such a man’s mistress, she mostly managed to stop them before they drifted to the physical parts of such arrangements. Unfortunately, one thought snuck there anyway, and shocked her by provoking lazy titillations that slyly aroused her before she realized what was happening.
The memory of that made her feel ridiculous now. The entire Outrageous Misconception did. The only good thing to come out of the upsetting episode was that, once more, she had bought some time.
He had come to demand Fairbourne’s be sold, she was quite sure. He would return to raise the question eventually. She counted on him being embarrassed enough by the Outrageous Misconception that he would not press his case for at least a few days.
“Cassandra, I know that you think flirting is as normal as breathing, and part of a man’s charm when he possessesany at all. However, do you think…I found myself wondering last night if perhaps my advertisement might be misunderstood by some of these young men.”
“Misunderstood? How so?”
“Is it possible that some of them believed the employment to be not only special and pleasurable, but also private? Very private.”
Cassandra thought that very funny. She answered between giggles. “I suppose if a man were inclined to assume you were desperate, he might. Or that I was, come to think about it. After all, you might have been aiding me in the search, not I aiding you.” She grinned while she patted Emma’s hand. “Believe me, when women do write advertisements such as you imply, there is nothing subtle about it. Only an idiot would assume that your situation involved nothing more than private intimacies.” She picked up the watch. “We should prepare. I fear it will be a long day.”
While Emma walked with Cassandra up to her bedchamber, Cassandra regaled her with stories of advertisements she had seen by women seeking footmen or workers with strong backs, warm hands, and various other attributes that would ensure the fellow satisfied a most private situation.
Considering that her own advertisement had called for a strong physique, Emma was not nearly as amused as Cassandra expected.
She suspected Cassandra had indeed planned to encourage young men to assume such private pleasures, if not with Emma Fairbourne, then with ladies who patronized the auction house. The new man should not expect the situation to consist of
nothing more
than that, but Cassandra assumed that had been part of Mr. Nightingale’s success, and had implied such duties when she revised the advertisement’s words. Emma felt very stupid that she had, once again, not interpreted Cassandra’s entendres correctly.
If she was right, then the Outrageous Misconception had not been nearly as outrageous as she had thought.
Not that
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