Mary Brendan - The Virtuous Courtesan

More subtle praise. She could not deny he was a skilful flirt. Again heat bled in to her cheeks. His rough-velvet voice allied with those steady predatory gazes combined to create quite a heady attack on the senses. Their conversation seemed no longer focused on material considerations, but had become quite intimate.

She felt suffocated, unable to rise to the challenge of playing his sophisticated game. She stepped away. ‘Your reminiscence about your brother is not helping solve our predicament, sir,’ she said briskly.

‘But I think it is,’ Gavin quietly begged to differ. ‘We need to ascertain what reasons he might have had for wanting to entwine our lives upon his demise.’ Gavin strolled to the window and looked out into woodland. ‘He must have realised that this would come as a shock to us both. He had little fondness for me, I know, and if it is some sort of bad joke, I allow him his laugh. But you?’ He turned and slanted Sarah a look. ‘Were you at odds over something that might have prompted him to secretly seek revenge?’

‘No,’ Sarah hotly denied. ‘Nothing like that passed between us. I believed we were friends till the end.’

‘Friends?’ Gavin echoed drily.

‘Yes, friends,’ Sarah repeated with some emphasis. ‘It is possible for a man and a woman to share a friendship as well as a bed.’

Gavin bowed his head in mock humility. ‘Thank you for that insight, Miss Marchant,’ he drawled. ‘Hard-hearted rakes do not know such things.’

‘Neither do they know when to accept a very good deal.’ She came closer to him to make her point. ‘You will be better off having Elm Lodge occupied than empty. You are foolish not to immediately accept my suggestion to housekeep for you. A fortune is almost yours for a tenancy and a paltry annual sum.’

Gavin’s smile deepened to a lazy chuckle. ‘I’m almost persuaded,’ he murmured infuriatingly.

Sarah flung herself around in a temper and stalked off two paces. ‘I am done with trying to be reasonable.’ She retraced those angry steps to glare up at him with sparking topaz eyes. ‘I do not give a fig what becomes of you or your brother’s inheritance. You may return to London empty-handed and end in the Fleet.’ She sucked in a breath to add, ‘Oh, I know you are a spendthrift, too. I know all about you.’

‘And are you going to return the compliment and tell me all about you?’

Sarah blanched, shrinking back a pace. She had not expected that unwanted question. She parted her soft lips to demand he take his leave, but was silenced by the sight of Maude entering with the tea tray. If the servant noticed her mistress’s flushed cheeks and fiery eyes, or the tension vibrating her neat figure, she gave no sign. ‘Shall I pour, miss?’ she asked placidly.

‘No…thank you,’ Sarah added with a hint of apology for her brusqueness.

The brief interlude whilst Maude settled the tray on the table allowed her wits to curb her temper. She must secure essentials for her and her family. Once Maude had departed she enquired coolly, ‘What has brought you here today, sir?’ A rustle of dimity skirts was the only sound as she paced to and fro, waiting for his response. Suddenly she halted and frowned at his silence. ‘If the answer is nothing in particular, then I must ask you to leave.’

‘I think you know why I’m here,’ Gavin returned mildly. ‘I want my inheritance and I am prepared to comply with the spirit of Edward’s will to get it. In short, Miss Marchant, I have no objection to protecting you in the way my brother intended I should.’

‘You might have no objection, sir, but I do,’ Sarah hissed once she had drawn sufficient breath to do so.

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