Chapter 4 #2
“A tea shop?” he queried. He had no idea what he was expecting, but that wasn’t it.
She nodded.
“Oh.”
“Did you think it was going to be something else?” she asked.
“I assumed you were going to ask for funds to help set you up in a good house, or—”
“I want to be independent,” she cut in swiftly, clearly determined to eradicate any idea of an easy life. “So I need an initial investment, and then once my tea shop is open, I shall strive to pay you back.”
He frowned, his mind turning to the difficulties of a business. “Isn’t opening a tea shop a very difficult thing to do?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. Not once people taste my pastries. They are exquisite.”
A thought danced through his head that she seemed exquisite, and he felt certain everything about her was exquisite. And that she would taste exquisite too. It was the most terrible thought, but suddenly he longed to taste her mouth under his, to taste her body, to devour her.
He couldn’t recall ever feeling this sort of intensity about anyone. But it was undeniable.
Clearing his throat, he willed himself to focus on her proposal and not what he longed to do with her. “Then, of course, I must help you. We cannot deny the world your exquisite pastries.”
“Are you making fun of me?” she asked, her brow shooting up.
“No,” he said quickly, “I am not.”
“Then, thank you. I accept your offer.” She fumbled with her reticule and opened it. She reached in carefully and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “These are my proposals. If they meet with your approval, I would like to get started at once. You see, my situation is rather difficult, and…”
He took the paper from her and opened it. He perused the lines. It was such a little sum of money that he couldn’t stop his laugh.
“I’m sorry. Is it poorly drawn up?” she asked, tensing.
“Not at all,” he assured. “It’s excellently done. I don’t know why I thought you’d ask for more. Shouldn’t you ask for more?” he asked, studying the figures.
“No,” she replied firmly. “I don’t want to owe you more than is necessary.”
He lifted his gaze to her. “Why are you so afraid of owing anyone anything?”
Her mouth tightened.
And then he closed his eyes, anger abruptly coiling in him.
Not at her but at the world and the fact that other men were often times so disappointing.
“Forgive me, I must seem like an utter scoundrel. I’m ignorant to a lady’s position.
You do not wish to owe anyone anything for good reason, no doubt.
” He paused. “Have you had people try to take advantage of you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “There were some difficulties with gentlemen pursuing funds that my husband and I owed, but I have paid most of those off and set up plans so that they cannot oust me from my small abode or take my things.”
“They did what?” he growled, holding himself back from demanding names. He had a feeling that would drive her out of the room, but he’d find out who those bastards were in good time and deal with them.
“Surely someone like you is familiar with the concept of a debt collector, sir.”
He was familiar with them from novels, in a sort of roundabout way, but he’d never met one, and nor had he ever had to interact with one. “That must be deeply unpleasant,” he said.
“It is.” And then she started to laugh. “I forgot.”
“What?” he asked.
“How odd the ton is.”
“Is it?” he queried.
“Yes,” she said, amused. “The ton knows so little about the real world.”
He ground his teeth at that. Hadn’t he just reflected that his own cousins knew little about the real world the previous night? And now here she was insinuating the same about him.
“What world exactly are you speaking of?” he asked, wishing for clarification. “I have known a great deal of it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have,” she said kindly. “But not the plight of the average man.”
He tensed, ready to argue, but then he understood what a fool that would make him. How arrogant, how unlikable, as he’d feared before.
And he found himself suddenly wishing to be very likable indeed, at least to her.
No wonder his grandmother liked her. She had the same sort of flint in her that the dowager did.
“Perhaps you are correct,” he agreed, determined not to be an idiot. “Perhaps I know very little of your world. I confess, I feel at a disadvantage, since you clearly know so much about mine.”
“Well, I was born into it,” she said.
“Of course you were,” he said softly. “And you…escaped it?”
She beamed, proud at last. “Yes, I did. And I am glad for it. I should not wish to live in a gilded gaol, no matter how beautiful.”
“And yet you find yourself needing to come back to it.”
Her smile dimmed. “Yes, unfortunately. I do not have the resources to do anything else. I was not taught how to negotiate the world of finance.”
He cleared his throat. “You seem very capable to me. You have made a good business arrangement, and we shall do it.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath, as if she had been holding a great deal of tension. “Thank you,” she said. “I shall leave you then, and I shall write to you—”
“Oh no,” he said. “If I’m going to be a partner, I should like to be very involved.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Why?”
He considered an elaborate lie, but the Briarwoods did not like or approve of such things. “I have nothing else to do.”
“Surely you have much to do,” she said warily before pursing her lush lips. “Don’t you have balls and soirees to attend?”
He grimaced. “Yes,” he said, “but if I don’t find something to occupy myself with that has some weight to it, I’m going to be quite dissipated indeed. And you couldn’t possibly have that on your conscience, could you?”
Her lips twitched. “A good man becoming dissipated? No. I could never allow that if I have the power to stop it. And yet, I’m not entirely sure I wish to have you breathing over my shoulder every day.”
Still holding her plans, he lifted his hands to show he meant no harm. “Oh, I promise I shall make sure that I stand a good distance back. I shall simply admire you from afar and make certain that no one tries to take advantage of you again.”
She hesitated, the last of his words clearly landing as he hoped they would. For he would indeed stand back, but with clear warning for any man who might consider misusing her.
Then she strode forward and stuck her hand out. He stared at it for a long moment. “Let us strike a deal, as regular people do.”
“As regular people do?” he laughed. “Like horse traders?”
“Why not?” She cocked her head to the side. “We are simply two people doing business with each other.”
He smiled. “I like it.”
But whether she knew it or not, their business was going to go far beyond a tea shop. She needed him. But moreover, he was fairly certain he needed her to anchor his wild soul here, at last.