Page 14 of A Scandal at Stonecliffe

“But we can’t meet him on my ground. It would be disastrous for your reputation to come to my flat.” It didn’t matter if she thought he was an old-fashioned prude. She might not care, but he refused to be the one to involve her in a scandal.

“Then let’s do it on my ground. We can meet at my house. You gentlemen can call on me.” Her eyes lit up. “Of course! That’s it.”

Nathan looked at her warily. “What is it?”

“You can pretend to be courting me.”

“What?” Nathan felt a flush rising up his neck. “But that’s—it—we couldn’t—”

Verity cocked one eyebrow, saying coolly, “You think it would be outlandish for you to court me?”

“No!” Nathan scrabbled for something to say. He was never sure when Verity was teasing him or genuinely upset. There was a light in her eyes that made him suspect that at this moment she was only trying to get a rise out of him, but he had to come up with an answer anyway. And, really, he didn’t know why he had reacted so strongly to her suggestion. “It’s not that. It’s just that, um, I’m no good at pretense. I’m a terrible liar.”

“You’ll get more comfortable with it, I promise.” She grinned. “And you did fine at Lady Arden’s party the other night. The thing is we will be spending time together, perhaps a lot of it, working on this. This would be the perfect excuse. I am supposed to be a wealthy widow, remember. And you are wooing me for my money. No one will think anything of it. That’s what a gentleman does when his estate is deep in debt. And, not to boast, but I am quite sought after in that regard.”

“Verity! I wouldn’t marry you for money.” Nathan was shocked. He couldn’t believe she thought that was the sort of man he was.

Verity’s eyes flashed, but she kept her movements measured as she rose to her feet almost calmly. Even so, there was no doubt in Nathan’s mind that she was genuinely angry now.

“I am well aware that I am not a suitable wife for a gentleman.” The word dripped from her mouth as if it was an obscenity. “But others will believe the charade. Unlike you, they don’t know enough of who I am to have a low opinion of me.” She whipped around and started off.

“No. Verity, wait.”

“I can’t. I have a previous engagement.” She turned back to him, her gaze now as cool as her tone of voice. “I will see both of you at my house tomorrow at four. Good-bye.”

“Verity, I didn’t mean—” Nathan started after her, then stopped. She wouldn’t listen to him now, no matter how much he explained. She was the most hardheaded woman he’d ever met.

Nathan turned and walked away in the other direction, irritation bubbling in him. Blast it. Verity is the one with the issue. She takes every utterance I make in the worst way possible. He had been appalled that she could think he would marry anyone for money, but of course she had decided he meant only that he would not marry her.

This time he would just let her stew about it, if that’s what she wanted. It was bloody tiring, always having to watch his words with Verity. And, really, what could he say to her? I will marry you?

Of course he wouldn’t marry her. She was annoying and impulsive and did such outlandish things. The fact that she was alluring, that it had aroused all of his senses just to sit close to her, that her laugh made him feel warm inside—none of those could counter all her other exasperating qualities. Being with Verity would never be dull, but marriage to her would be absolutely exhausting. And just imagine the children she would have—fiery-haired moppets all tearing around, getting into trouble. She, of course, would just encourage that sort of behavior.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Verity had the most absurd effect on him. It would have been better if he had not asked her for help. It had seemed quite logical when he thought of it. She would be better at all this than he was. But she was simply too captivating, too lively, too exciting, too...everything.

Nathan sighed. But he couldn’t back out of it now. It would only confirm her opinion that he was a snob and a dullard, deceitful and unfeeling like all upper-class gentlemen—and why did she have such an antipathy for gentlemen, anyway?

He had to meet her tomorrow, had to include her. He would show her that he wasn’t any of those things, that she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. That he would not let her down. Because however much it should not matter what Verity thought of him, the truth was that it did. It mattered a great deal.

VERITY ADMITTED THAT she had been a little hasty in storming off yesterday. Nathan hadn’t done anything wrong; of course he wouldn’t want to marry her—though his being horrified at the idea of pretending to court her was rather unflattering.

She wasn’t sure why Nathan so often aroused irritation in her. It wasn’t his fault that he had been raised an aristocrat and imbued with aristocratic ideals of class and behavior. He was in general a very nice man—courteous and thoughtful, but with a sense of humor and quick retort, as well. He wasn’t arrogant or cruel. He would never intentionally hurt anyone’s feelings.

She liked him. In fact, Verity sometimes thought she could like him more than was wise. And that might be the very reason she was so often upset by him. It was clear that far from liking her in return, he usually regarded her with disapproval, even horror. There was a bit of desire there, as well; she was aware of his reaction to her when they were pressed against each other. But that was just his body—and he had probably been aghast at his response.

He loved Annabeth. She was the sort of woman he wanted. And Annabeth was in no way like Verity.

Annabeth was tall and slender and had silky-straight locks, and Verity was small and curvy with an unruly mop of red hair. The differences went far beyond that, of course. Annabeth was easy to like—indeed, Verity was friends with her—and Verity knew that she herself was often not likable. Annabeth was a lady. Her lineage was impeccable, and her past unblemished. She knew exactly how to act. Verity possessed none of those qualities.

Being quick and stronger than she looked or possessing the ability to use a small blade to incapacitate but not kill were hardly attributes known to inspire romantic feelings. Nor was having a past that kept her looking over her shoulder still.

Verity wouldn’t have been surprised if Nathan had decided to deal with his problem without her, so it was some relief to her that he arrived at her house the following afternoon well before the appointed time. Verity said nothing about the way they had parted yesterday, and Nathan seemed equally disinclined to mention it.

As she led him into her parlor, Nathan looked around him with interest. “The house you rented is lovely.”

“I own it,” Verity replied. She couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice. She added in a joking tone, “I am a woman of property.”