“I’m out of sorts,” he said after a while.
“You don’t say so?”
“I beg your pardon, but the…torrent of young ladies that has rushed in my direction since my great-uncle died is irritating. Two of them came to Jackson’s boxing saloon yesterday.”
“Surely not inside?”
“No, they were loitering by the door, waiting to pounce when I came out. One of them claimed to have hurt her ankle in order to beg for my assistance. This after they had not begged anything of the two men who preceded me out the door.”
“They can’t have been of the first stare.” The Bond Street address was not a place where proper young ladies would linger.
“I’m sure you’re right. But that did not prevent them from descending on me to titter and admire my ‘physique.’ It was scandalous.”
“I’ve never known you to worry about scandal.”
“I shall start if it is an excuse to evade that sort of simpering. I begin to understand Uncle Percival. Perhaps I’ll retreat to the town house and refuse all visits.”
“You’d do better to encourage them, insist even. And then decree that every visitor must take a bit of rubbish away with them.”
He burst out laughing. “You are always a relief.”
“Am I?”
“A breath of fresh air, at least. You have been obstinately honest since you were nine years old.”
“Oh, before that, I think.” Her voice was very dry, but then she didn’t appreciate his patronizing tone. “Happy to be of service.”
“Don’t take one of your pets.”
“One of my what?”
“Honesty is considered a virtue, is it not? I was paying you a compliment.”
“In such a condescending tone.” She did her best to match it.
“Nonsense.”
This was one of his favorite words, and he always said it with complete conviction. He absolutely believed he was right. Well, if she was honest, he was infuriating. Cecelia started to tell him so, but he whirled her in a beautiful turn, and for a moment she felt as if she was flying. He held her so easily, his arm so steady and strong. It made her feel light as a feather.
“Also we have known each other so long, we need make no pretense to silly sentiment. I find that quite restful.”
Cecelia plunked back down to earth.
“As well as being the same sort of person,” he added.
“Sort?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do really, James.”
“We have no ridiculous ideas about falling in love.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Come, come, Cecelia. You have refused at least four offers that I know of.”
“And if I have, is this not an argument for a belief in love? Perhaps I am waiting for it to come along.”