Page 6 of A Trickster’s Temptation

Because I don’t like you.That, alas, wasn’t quite true either. At least, not any more.

‘Because… because it irritates you that I know it, Mr. Hart.’ That was as honest as she could possibly be under the circumstances; Mary nodded, looking into Mr. Hart’s eyes without blinking. ‘And that’s more than enough for me.’

For a single, precious moment, Mr. Hart looked completely bewildered. Then he laughed, a carefree laugh that seemed to weigh every word of Mary’s statement and find it satisfactory, and Mary realised to her shock that she wanted to laugh to.

She did. Just a little, not enough to make the servants curious as to what was happening between her and the book vendor. The curious tension between herself and Mr. Hart, the undercurrent of energy that crackled between them, softened without disappearing entirely.

‘I respect a woman who goes to great lengths out of spite, Miss Fine.’ Mr. Hart paused. ‘I also respect a woman who does seemingly ludicrous things for obscure motives of her own. I believe our kiss falls into the latter category rather than the former.’

Oh. We are to discuss it.Mary swallowed, wishing she could anxiously pull pieces of dough off of the unbaked loaf without Mr. Hart noticing. ‘Not the former?’

‘I fail to see how kissing me in the way you did counts as a spiteful action, Miss Fine.’ Mr. Hart looked thoroughly at ease again. Talking like this to women had to be one of his natural states; Mary looked down at the dough, giving it a particularly rough knock rather than allow her blushes to creep over the line of her bodice. ‘Unless, of course, your plan was to make me fall so desperately in love with you that every moment following the kiss would be torture.’

Mary almost bit through her own tongue. She swallowed, her cheeks suddenly boiling, as Mr. Hart continued.

‘Alas, that would never work. Not because the kiss lacked merit, but because I am far too much in love with myself to love anyone else. Still—if that was the point, it was a commendable try.’

‘It certainly wasn’t.’ Mary’s throat was suddenly uncommonly dry, but she didn’t dare to pick up the full glass of table. She would only spill it or begin to choke; her dignity had left the room as soon as Mr. Hart had said the wordkiss. ‘And could we not talk about… well, talk about…’

‘I’m afraid that’s completely impossible. I am but a mere mortal, Miss Fine—and as you frequently remind me, often behave in ways befitting creatures much more devious than mortals could ever be.’

'All right. You've come here to tease me about my request, and you've done so. I'm heartily embarrassed and will avoid you at all future gatherings.' Mary folded her arms, wishing she could roll her eyes in a truly disinterested fashion, but she already knew that attempting such a gesture would only make her look silly. 'If that's all, Mr. Hart, you may leave.'

'I didn't mean to embarrass you.' Mr. Hart paused. 'Well. Not more than a little. Certainly not heartily.'

'Then why on earth did you come?'

'Because now, Miss Fine, I have leverage over you. And I'm not entirely sure how to make best use of it.'

Leverage?Leverage?Mary blinked, briefly too shocked to speak, before anger overcame her confusion. 'I beg your pardon?'

'You heard me. I have a very considerable advantage over you now. Namely that if the mood takes me, I can avail myself of my best friend's ear--who happens to be Marcus Brookes, your best friend's husband--and tell him that Miss Mary Fine, the coolest and most reserved woman in the world, aggressively demanded that I kiss her. The resulting explosion would be dreadfully amusing.'

'If you tell Marcus anything about what occurred between us, he'll hang you from the nearest lamp post. That's one of the reasons I chose you, good sir--no-one will ever believe I wanted to kiss you.'

'You forget my charm, Miss Fine. I can convince anyone of anything, given enough time.' Mr. Hart's confident expression looked completely unassailable. 'Which brings us back to the crucial point of this visit. I have leverage, Miss Fine. More leverage than I've ever had before over you, and the prospect of lording it over you was too delicious to ignore.'

Oh, no blasphemies in the world were enough to describe this man. He was utterly beyond the pale. Mary clenched her fists, hoping against hope that her anger didn't show on her face.

Well. Not just anger. Beneath her rage at being so thoroughly outsmarted, something glowed. A secret, unacceptable thrill of excitement.

'I see.' She took a step towards Mr. Hart, who blinked. Perhaps she looked as if she were about to attack him; Mary wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do, but was content to let him think the worst. 'And how were you planning to exercise this leverage, Mr. Hart? What would you have me do?'

'Well.' Mr. Hart's smooth, smug mask of satisfaction looked in danger of slipping. 'I imagined that I would simply...'

'Yes?'

'Simply remind you of it at intervals, when you become too irritating to be safely ignored.'

'What a deplorable lack of ambition.' Why did goading him feel like the correct thing to do? 'Depressing, really.'

'For someone at a disadvantage, you seem all too willing to criticise.'

'I speak as I find. I always have.' Mary hadn't, she kept her mouth shut no matter how much she loathed whatever what happening around her, but with Mr. Hart it had always been different. She'd always been a little less capable of reserve when he was close by; it was as if he blurred the boundaries of propriety by merely existing. ‘And I think you’re being… cowardly?’

She hadn’t intended to turn her statement into a question. Mr. Hart’s eyes widened for a moment, then settled into an expression of calm anticipation that Mary couldn’t help but find oddly fascinating.

‘Cowardly. That’s a strange word.’ Mr. Hart paused. ‘If I’m not mistaken, that’s a word being used to goad me into kissing the speaker again.’

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