Page 36 of Meet A Rogue At Midnight
She traced a rosette in the carpet with the toe of her lavender slipper. Hair piled high and pearl earbobs dangling, she was the picture of purity in a beribboned day gown. Cream silk bows populated her person, from her chaste bodice to the split lavender and cream skirt. For goodness’ sake, she was twenty-four not twelve. Wide panniers saved the gown from girlish excess. Pinching one irritating bow at her elbow, she knew why her mother requested she wear this gown. With its high cut bodice and soft colors, the gown saidyouthandpurity.
The soreness between her legs told her otherwise.
In her vigil, polished black shoes came into view. The shoes and the well-turned calves above them were inches from her hem, a shade too close for propriety.
“Miss Halsey, are you finding these negotiations tedious?” Mr. Haggerty’s voice was a silky tenor.
She met his black-eyed gaze, a pleasant frisson touching her skin beneath the pile of silken skirts. He’d said once his mother was of Portuguese descent. That explained his black hair and black eyes. Today, he wore a periwig and velvet suit a shade of port wine. Empirically speaking, her betrothed was a handsome man, a picture of refinement and sophistication.
“Why couldn’t he look like a toad?”
Mr. Haggerty cocked his head. “Beg pardon?”
Her eyes rounded. “Did I say that aloud?”
“Indeed, you said something about ‘looking like a toad’.” The corners of his sculpted mouth turned up. “Were you referring to me?”
Cheeks prickling hotly, her mouth opened to spout polite nonsense to deter him from her faux pas, but it’d be a waste of air. The man already knew he appealed to women. No need to further stoke his ego’s fire. Deflection wouldn’t work either. Little slipped past Mr. Haggerty’s notice. The man sniffed out charlatans on a daily basis. Buying and selling antiquities attracted all sorts. A man in his position had to be as comfortable taking tea with Europe’s finest families as he did muscling his way around dockside rufflers.
It crossed her mind to ask glibly if he’d ever been a naughty man, haunting London’s docks and taverns, but she bit her tongue when her mind veered to Jonas and his tale of a dockside tavern. Perhaps, maturity meant putting aside her forward nature? She ought to be elegant and demure like Elspeth.
Standing taller, she called on years of excellent breeding. “My apologies. I have been a neglectful hostess, haven’t I?”
“You do seem distracted.” His chin jutted at the animated discussion on the settee. “Is it the negotiations?”
Her mother listed specific household items meant for Elspeth, a line pinching above her nose. The young, fair-haired solicitor insisted on seeing the pieces before cataloging them for perpetuity. Mr. Haggerty chuckled low as the two left the room, hotly debating the valuation of Tuscan pottery.
“Mr. Kendall is a stickler for monetary details. It makes him a perfect business partner.” Mr. Haggerty gave her a pained smile. “Unfortunately, it takes all the finesse out of courtship.”
“I don’t remember that happening. The part about courtship. Nor do I recall you saying Mr. Kendall is your business partner.”
His nod was full of patience and understanding. “There is much we don’t know about each other.”
Her mind toyed with the idea of full disclosure, but her mother’s request came to the fore. To speak plainly at this delicate juncture would be rash.
Mr. Haggerty took appraisal of her as if a new, interesting facet came to light. She imagined he gave the same subtle assessment to everything else he acquired, and make no mistake—this was an acquisition of mutual benefit. His smile widened, denting both sides of his mouth. It made her believe he’d worn a fine mask with her all morning, and now the real Mr. Haggerty was beginning to show. The beauty of his face could melt a woman except for one thing—her betrothed didn’t own her heart.
Jonas did.
As each hour passed, she grew convinced of another fact. He’d deserted her.
She twisted the bow at her elbow. Bland emptiness washed over her, the same as when Jonas left ten years ago without a farewell. “Perhaps you can tell me about your business. Mother tells me you opened a shop in Bath.”
“Miss Halsey, I’d be happy to share business details with you, but something tells me it would bore you to tears.”
“Not at all.”
He raised a placating hand. “Please. We’re about to embark on a union that will change everything. The least we can do is be honest with each other.”
Why did he have to be so reasonable?
“You are a good man, Mr. Haggerty.”
He was also the one person in London her mother had confided in about her father’s condition. He’d been helpful, buying up almost all the relics in their tower that could be restored, selling them to collectors and museums alike. In the same spirit of assistance, he’d suggested a marital arrangement. The proposition had taken her by surprise. He’d flirted with her in the past, the mild sort that sophisticated men like him did. But, she couldn’t picture him growing old, doting on children, or being satisfied with a country ramble. Mr. Haggerty was a Town creature, while she was purely rustic.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been doing in your tower?”
“What I’ve been doing in my tower?” She winced. Repeating what the man said was worthy of a dullard. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been copying my father’s notes for his final volume.”
