Page 10 of Indecent
“If you’re wondering whether I’ll slink back to Somerset with my tail between my legs, the answer is no. I do need to go home to check on things, but hopefully, I’ll find an heiress first.” He lifted a shoulder. “Someone will want to marry a viscount. At least I have a title to sell.”
She frowned gently, her lush lips pulling down. Lush? He ought not characterize her in such a way. She was not for him to lust after. Still, it was difficult to ignore her beauty.
“You can’t marry for love, then,” she said matter-of-factly.
He gave a humorless laugh. “I haven’t the luxury of that, I’m afraid. I will hope to marry someone I like and admire—as I did Cassandra.”
“I can understand. Loveisa luxury, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?” He found her to be rather enigmatic. She was very stiff, save her bouts of pique, which he’d thoroughly earned. Except for the brief mention of her father—in that moment, Bennet had seen love in her eyes.
“Love brings obligations and…messiness,” she said offhandedly. “I’m alone now, and it’s far more convenient—financially, emotionally, in all ways, really.”
He couldn’t argue that love was untidy. He had only to think of his family. They loved one another dearly, even his father, but there were plenty of other messy, complicated emotions and situations. “You’ve no desire to fall in love? To marry?”
“No.” Her response came fast and strong. “Then I’d have to worry about someone other than myself, including children.” Her shoulder twitched.
She didn’t want children? How extraordinary.
Bennet took a drink of wine, thinking it was far better than he’d expected. It was, quite possibly, expensive after all. Blast. Ah well, he’d find a way to settle his account with Logan. There had to be another painting he could sell.
He changed the subject because he wasn’t sure where they could go from there without venturing into rather personal, private territory. She’d already demonstrated she preferred to avoid that.
“What are you going to do now that Lady Cassandra is marrying Wexford?”
Prudence tensed, her shoulders stiffening along with her jawline. “I expect things will work out. They did after my previous charge eloped.”
“An actual elopement?” he asked in surprise. “Who was that?”
“Lady Overton. When she and Lord Overton eloped, I went to Lady Cassandra. The two are close friends, so it was a convenient—and fortunate—move.”
“I should say so. Does Lady Cassandra have another friend?”
“I can’t say, but I believe she’ll do her best to ensure I find a position. It may be that I shall work for someone older.”
“Would you prefer that?”
She arched a brow. “I suspect there would be far less intrigue.”
He laughed softly before taking another drink of port. “I suppose accompanying your charge to a boxing match and being abducted for your trouble is not likely to happen if you are companion to a dowager.”
She smiled, and he wished she would do it more often. “I should hope not.”
“It seems you haven’t worked for an older woman as yet. Does that mean you haven’t been a companion long? You seem rather young for the position, even if you are a spinster.” He wrinkled his nose. “I dislike that word.”
“It doesn’t bother me. Anyway, I’m not as young as you probably think I am.”
He noticed she didn’t answer his question about how long she’d been in her line of work. He wouldn’t press. “I’d say you were two and twenty. So perhaps you’re actually thirty. That would make you older than me.” He waggled his brows before recalling that she’d instructed him not to flirt with her. Was he really flirting? Probably. He couldn’t seem to help himself. He liked her.
Her cheeks flushed light pink. “I am not thirty. Nor am I two and twenty.”
“Something in between, then.” He finished the port in his glass and refilled it. Lifting his brows in silent query, he held the bottle toward her wineglass, which wasn’t quite empty.
She gave him a slight nod, and he replenished hers too.
“I really do feel very badly about last night,” he said. “Are you recovered?”
She seemed to be, but she struck him as a stalwart young woman. He doubted she’d tell him if she wasn’t.
