“And you are an unabashed cynic.”
“No doubt I am.”
Cynicism was bred into him; he’d learned it by imitating his illustrious father. But love was a concern all on its own.
He was not enamored of Tess. Oh, he desired her … intensely. It shocked him how much he wanted her. But desire was not the same thing as love.
His attraction to her had always irritated him, Ian acknowledged. And it would likely be even worse now that he knew what it felt like to have Tess in his arms.
He shifted in his seat, recalling the rioting of his senses when he’d embraced her on the chaise a short while ago. His first taste of her had been beyond all expectations, and so had his reaction to her. Even though she kissed like an innocent, he’d never felt such hunger, such fierce impatience with a woman before. Admittedly, he’d lusted after Tess for years. He’d fantasized about claiming her, about losing himself in her—
Sharply, Ian disciplined his thoughts. “Love is vastly overrated,” he told her.
“Even if it is, you know very well we would never suit,” Tess retorted. “We would make each other extremely unhappy.”
That was indeed a possibility, Ian thought, although he made no comment.
“Besides, you obviously dislike me.”
That wasn’t the case at all. “I don’t dislike you.”
“You always act as if you do.”
Only because he was determined to hide his desire for her.
Aloud he said, “Your fierce aversion to me is hardly flattering.”
“I have no wish to contribute to your self-conceit.”
“Don’t turn waspish, darling,” he remarked in a light tone.
She blushed, even as her defensive gaze met his. “I am merely stating a fact. No doubt there are legions of females who would be enthralled by your proposal, but I am not one of them.”
Ian wondered how many women would leap at the chance to wed him, not to mention bed him. But not Tess. She was unique in that respect, along with many others.
“You have made your point,” he said evenly. “You don’t wish to wed me. But you are forgetting the advantages.”
“What advantages?”
“You will find there are significant benefits to becoming my wife. A duchess can get away with a great deal more than a mere young miss.”
“I know that,” she answered, an edge of bitterness in her tone. “But I will gladly forgo such pleasures.”
“Can you afford to turn down my fortune when your chief patron has given you an ultimatum and vowed to abandon you? I am quite wealthy, Tess. I will promise to contribute generously to your causes, and I am prepared to make you a substantial marriage settlement, every farthing of which you may spend on your charities if you wish. Just think of all the good you could do. It should be some consolation that you can continue tilting at windmills to your heart’s content.”
His argument didn’t seem persuasive, judging by her grim silence as she continued stalking back and forth across the stage.
“Sit down, sweeting,” Ian said dryly. “You will wear out your slippers.”
To his surprise, Tess obeyed and returned to sit on the chaise, although she perched on the edge, straight-backed and rigid with frustration.
“If you reflect on it unemotionally,” Ian suggested, “you’ll see the wisdom of our immediate nuptials.”
“I don’t wish to be unemotional. We are talking about marriage … a lifelong, irreversible union. This will change every aspect of our lives irrevocably.”
“Would it comfort you any if I said we could treat our m
arriage strictly as a business contract? After a suitable interval, we can live separate lives if you wish.”