"Of course, succeed," she said. "What is the point of sacrificing myself otherwise? If I can't do well enough to support myself and provide a home where Aunt Etta can live out the remainder of her days in the manner in which she's most comfortable, why bother?" She looked at Jarrod. "If I were on my own, I could seek another type of employment, but I am not on my own. I have Aunt Etta to consider."
"Have you?" Jarrod challenged. "You just refused the offer of a house. I don't think you've given any thought to Aunt Etta's situation."
"Of course I have," Sarah argued. "I've thought of little else since Lord Dunbridge forced us to vacate the rectory."
Jarrod arched an eyebrow. "And the best you could come up with was a harebrained scheme of sneaking out of a hotel room in the middle of the night and traipsing about town in your nightgown in order to tempt me into helping you begin a career as a part of the Cyprian corps?"
Sarah stared at him. "Were you tempted, Jays?"
"Yes, Sarah, I was tempted," he admitted. "Am tempted. But I've been tempted before by women who were experts in the art."
"Did you succumb to their temptation?"
Jarrod smiled a teasing sort of smile. "What sort of gentleman would I be if I answered that?"
"An honest one?" she suggested.
"Perhaps," he mused. "But I could also be a lying braggart, and, in any case, I refuse to answer an impudent question simply to satisfy your virginal curiosity."
"Then kiss me."
"What?"
"Give in to temptation and satisfy my virginal curiosity at the same time. I won't tell," she whispered, moving closer. "No one need know."
"I'll know, Sarah," Jarrod told her. "And so will you." He looked down at her. "I'll know I crossed the boundary no gentleman should ever cross and you'll know you tempted me into it."
"I'll know you chose not to resist," Sarah contradicted.
"And I'll know you've chosen a life for which you're entirely ill-suited."
Sarah heaved an exasperated sigh.
"There is no getting around it. You were meant to be a wife, Sarah. No matter what you believe about the inequality of marriage, you were meant to be married. You were meant to have a husband and children."
That was true. And she wanted both one day. But she wanted Jarrod to be her husband and since that wasn't likely to happen, she'd make certain the man the magistrate had in mind as her guardian and husband wouldn't want her. Marriage was permanent. If she married someone else, she wouldn't be free to marry Jarrod or become his lover and, unlike a great many ladies of the ton, Sarah would not forsake her vows. If she took the vows of matrimony, she meant to keep them. She wouldn't commit adultery for Jarrod or for anyone else. "I'd rather remain unmarried than spend the rest of my life with a man I don't love."
"Yet you profess to wanting to share your body with a multitude of men you don't love," Jarrod mused.
"Who's to say I wouldn't love one or two of them?" she asked.
"Who's to say you would?" he shot back.
I would, Sarah thought. Especially if Jarrod was one of them. Because she had been madly in love with Jarrod Shepherdston since she was five and that wasn't likely to change. Unfortunately, neither was the fact that Jarrod had never made any bones about his distrust of marriage. Sarah was under no illusions. Jarrod simply wasn't in the market for a marchioness and as long as he remained opposed to marriage, so would she.
"And what of your aunt's feelings? What of her dreams and aspirations for you? Have you thought about those? Or about how your decision to join the ranks of the demimonde will affect her? How she will feel when members of the ton ostracize you? How she will feel when the ladies who stood in line beside you as you made your curtsies give you the cut direct when they cannot cross the street to avoid meeting you? And if your aunt lives with you, she'll be tarred with the same brush and her reputation will be as blackened as yours. How is she going to feel when lifelong friends and acquaintances no longer acknowledge her?"
"Her t
rue friends will acknowledge her," Sarah said. "Those who don't aren't worth worrying about."
"That's your opinion," Jarrod interjected. "Your aunt may feel differently."
"She won't," Sarah affirmed.
"How do you know? Did you ask her?" He pinned Sarah with a look. "Did you discuss this with her or did you decide the best course of action on your own?"
"I saw no point in worrying her with the details."