The Offer (Baron 2)

“Eat a lemon cake.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re supposed to be flourishing now that you’re safe with me.”

“Flourishing?”

“Yes, in the manner of a beautiful tight flower bud gradually opening to the brilliant sunlight.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

“Well, yes, but at least you’re smiling a bit now. Now, tell me what you’ve planned so I can either approve or disapprove of your schemes. No, don’t throw anything at me. Yes, just sit there and eat something. If you must, throw the cup at me, at least it’s nearly empty.”

She set the cup in its saucer. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at the yellow toes of her slippers. “I never threw anything in my life before I met you.”

“Perhaps you’ve just never suffered from excess bile before.”

“I will try to control my bile.”

“Good. Now tell me what you’ve planned.” Phillip handed her a cake and gave himself one. She began nibbling on it. He was pleased. It was a start. “What delights have you in store for me?”

She thought of the kind of delights that he obviously preferred and grew so angry she bit her cheek.

She had a sudden memory of him bending over her, his face calm, as he touched his palm to her forehead. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Where the devil did that come from?” He didn’t like that. He preferred a plate tossed at his head. Well, not really, but he didn’t want her to go on believing she loved him. He’d be delighted to settle for something in the middle.

“I don’t know. It was just a fleeting memory. You were there a lot in my mind, perhaps when I wasn’t even fully conscious.”

“I’d never bathed a woman before or washed her hair. I would like to do that again.”

“To me or to your mistress?” The instant the words had spurted from her mouth, she was horrified. She’d meant to keep it to herself, at least most of it, most of the time. The words hung between them.

However, Phillip didn’t say anything. He took another sip of his tea and appeared to study the Aubusson carpet beneath his boots.

Finally, he said mildly, “The schemes, Sabrina? For the dinner party?”

She told him what she was planning. When she paused, he said, “Impressive, Sabrina. Perhaps it’s not at all a bad thing to have one’s wife bred in the wilds of Yorkshire. Allow me to select the wines, and I vow we will have to drag our guests from the dinner table.”

Sabrina turned pink with his praise. It was infuriating, but she couldn’t help it. She was too easily pleased, she thought, but couldn’t help herself. She didn’t mind at all that he was changing her wines. She was smiling slightly as she said, “I had Paul commission the Huxley group for the dancing. I do so love to waltz, and Greybar told me that they have quite a fine way with the music. A lot of enthusiasm and energy. Greybar said they were even more lively than the group that played for our wedding.”

Phillip cocked an eyebrow. “Dancing? I’d thought this would only be a dinner party.”

“I know that it would cost quite dearly, but since I’m now financially independent, I shall pay for the orchestra myself.”

She was so defensive with him. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow again, just said easily, “That’s fine. Do so, with my compliments at your show of independence. You pay for the entertainment and I’m the one who benefits. I enjoy waltzing with you.”

“And I with you,” she said, although she didn’t want to. But when she wasn’t infuriated with him, she remembered that she did love him, despite his belief that she was a little girl and this was naught but infatuation. The fool.

“If you ever find yourself short in the pocket or purse and in need of a loan, please feel free to approach me. I’m a generous man. I’d be more generous if I didn’t feel you would dislike it so much.”

“Let us talk of something other than money, Phillip.”

“Yes, I suppose so. It’s depressing, talking about money, that is.”

She rose. “Will you be dining here tonight?”

She looked lovely and scared and defensive. He rose slowly to face her. He lightly touched his fingertips to her jaw. Freedom, he thought. He couldn’t forget his freedom. Nor could he ever afford to let her forget it. He wanted to take her right this instant, on the beautiful Aubusson at their feet.