Chapter Eight #2
He shrugged, “I’m not sure, exactly. I awoke this morning with an overwhelming urge to expand my knowledge of other cultures and educate myself through the grand displays to be found in our fine museum.”
Her expression tensed and she turned her gaze back to her object of study. Then she mused in a serious tone, “Some would say we stole these pieces of culture to buoy our own sense of self-superiority. I’m not convinced they’re wrong.”
Edmund was silent for a moment. He realized he should make some light quip, but a more earnest response rose to his lips. “Yet, you take advantage of having such artifacts available.”
She visibly flinched. “I know,” she admitted quietly. “It’s an issue I’m trying to understand about myself.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she stiffened and her expression twisted with a mixture of annoyance and disgust as she turned her gaze back to him. “Now, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here?”
Edmund lowered his chin and shrugged. A half-smile curved his mouth. “Would you rather I admit that I thought it might prove to be a good place to encounter beautiful women?”
She harrumphed softly and turned her gaze back to her sketch. “Have you already tired of all the ladies to be found in London high society?”
Her tone was delightfully droll and he couldn’t resist making a suggestive reply. “Not all of them.”
His sensual drawl caused her gaze to fly swiftly back to his in surprise before she scoffed. “You will not find what you’re seeking in me.”
“What am I seeking?”
Her stare turned dark and penetrating. “What most self-centered, arrogant, entitled men who consider themselves rakes and rogues are seeking.”
“Which is…?”
“A shallow, meaningless interaction with a woman willing to forego her better sense in order to momentarily envision you as you see yourself.”
Edmund held his amused expression even though her barbed reply managed to draw a bit of blood. With a blasé tone, he quirked his lips and asked, “How do you suppose I see myself?”
She gave a subtle roll of her eyes and returned to her sketch. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not willing to ignore my better sense for any man.”
“Not even for some paragon of virtue with the purest of heart?”
The short, husky laugh that vibrated from her throat was quite genuine. The sound of it was shockingly soothing to the stabbing ache inside him, and he had to forcefully resist the urge to rub his hand over his chest.
“There is no such man,” she replied with unwavering confidence. “And if he did exist, he’d likely be painfully dull.”
He clicked his tongue and slowly shook his head. “So jaded.”
“Realistic.”
Edmund watched her, waiting to see if she’d elaborate. But she appeared quite content to let the conversation die.
He couldn’t. “So, instead of flirting and dancing or engaging in any way with the many gentlemen about town, you hide in shadowy corners and avoid any possible interactions.”
“I do not hide,” she replied firmly. “I spend my time as I wish, doing the things that I find fulfilling, and engaging with people I admire with whom I share a modicum of common perspective. I do not force myself into behaviors or activities that someone else decided are required to impress people who have no real wish to know me. People who would tell me my thinking is wrong, my interests are irrelevant, and my desires subservient to those of men.”
It was a powerful speech, and it was clear she felt every word.
Having some understanding of what the haute ton expected of newly titled gentlemen, he could only imagine all the expectations that must be placed upon young ladies.
But he was not here to commiserate with the woman.
Leaning toward her, he looked up from his position on the floor to flash a wicked smile and a suggestive look. “I promise, I will always treat your desires with the utmost reverence. Any subservience between us would be completely by choice.”
She stared at him for a moment—eyes wide, expression blank. Then she gave a short, snorting chuckle and shook her head. “I’m starting to suspect you’ve no idea how to conduct a conversation with a woman that isn’t dripping with flirtation and innuendo.”
“Of course, I do,” Edmund protested before giving a wink. “I simply don’t see the point in it.”
“The point, Lord Darlington, is to foster a deeper understanding between two people.”
“But there are far more fun and satisfying ways of getting to know someone. In fact,” he added brightly, “that must be the reason we keep running into each other. And here among the pantheons of so many gods and goddesses. No doubt, some fanciful deity decided I’m the perfect person to help you.”
The lady’s expression was subtly stunned and curiously amused. “What on earth are you going on about? What could you possibly think to help me with?”
He swept his gaze over her form as she sat bent over her sketchbook. “All that repressed expression.”
She scoffed, her body stiffening in obvious affront. “I assure you; I am far from repressed. I’ve spent years acquiring the kind of education and fortitude that is not allowed most women. I’ve been resisting repression nearly since the day I was born.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Edmund replied with a smile, “But I’m referencing repression of a sensual nature.
I’m not saying I believe you’re totally ignorant of passion and desire.
I imagine you’ve read some scandalous personal accounts of the intimacies that can be experienced between men and women.
Or perhaps you’ve perused ancient texts on the topic. ”
When her cheeks darkened with color as she pressed her lips together, he assumed he wasn’t far from the truth and the thought intrigued him.
He waved a gesture toward the artifacts surrounding them. “You say you’ve expanded your mind and possess an extensive knowledge most could not claim. But how much of that education comes from true visceral experience?”
He paused to observe her reaction. But she simply stared back at him, unspeaking. Her stare unwavering. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but she was certainly listening.
Leaning toward her, he dropped his voice.
“How much is rooted in the passionate embrace of being alive? Have you felt true desire yourself? Have you explored it? Freely?” Her eyes darkened.
He pressed forward. “If you’ve never given that part of yourself true reign, how can you call yourself liberated at all?
You’re missing a crucial part of the human experience. ”
When he finished, she gave a short sigh and lifted her chin. “You don’t know me well enough to claim such a thing. But I don’t expect a man like you—or any man—to understand anything about this topic from a woman’s perspective. We live in two very different worlds with very different rules.”
“But I thought you liked breaking the rules,” he noted gently.
“This conversation has gotten extremely inappropriate,” she muttered as she started to gather her things. “It’s long past time to end it.”
Fuck. He offered his most charming smile. “Please don’t leave. I promise I’ll behave.”
She paused to stare at him with dark, stormy eyes. “I hope you enjoy your tour of the museum, my lord. There may still be time to find what you’re looking for.”
“I already have,” he replied sincerely, holding her gaze.
She ignored the comment as she collected the last of her things. When she rose to her feet, Edmund leapt up from the floor, extending the piece of charcoal she’d given him.
She barely spared it a glance. “Keep it.”
Edmund felt an odd rush of panic as she started to walk away. He made another attempt to slow her retreat by holding out his hasty drawing. “To remember me by,” he said with a grin.
The lady rolled her eyes but took the paper as she continued past him. He expected her to leave without a backward glance, but he still stood there, watching her just in case she decided to give him a final acknowledgement.
She didn’t.