Roslyn hid her wince of dismay. She hoped his memory was not so keen when she encountered him at her sister’s wedding in a fortnight. “Yes, I am new to London. But I promise you, I did not lure you here for an assignation.”
And she had no intention, either, of prolonging this unwanted encounter. Murmuring a polite “thank you,” Roslyn retrieved her bonnet from his grasp and tried to slip past him.
The duke, however, reached out to curl his fingers lightly around her wrist. “One might think you are actually eager to avoid me.”
“One might.”
“Why?” His tone held surprise and genuine curiosity.
“I dislike the way you are inspecting me, as if I am merchandise to be purchased.”
“I stand corrected.” His lips curved in a rueful smile that was slow, sensual. “I don’t think of you as merchandise, I assure you.”
It was impossible to ignore that captivating male smile, and Roslyn suddenly understood why females pursued Arden in droves. “Then you will pray excuse me,” she said, her voice more uneven that she would have liked.
Pointedly, she glanced down at his imprisoning grasp, yet he didn’t release her. “Are you currently taken?”
She blinked. “Taken?”
“Do you have a protector yet?”
He was asking if she was currently employed as a lightskirt, Roslyn realized. She considered saying yes, but then she would have to come up with a name for her nonexistent patron, and Arden would very likely see through her lie. “No, I have no protector.”
“Then why don’t you simply name your price? I dislike haggling.”
She stared up at him. “Are you asking me to be your…mistress?”
His smile turned bland. “Unless you have another proposition in mind? Yes, I am asking you to be my mistress, darling.”
Roslyn knew her jaw had dropped inelegantly, but she couldn’t help it. It shocked her a little that he would offer such an intimate position to a perfect stranger. “We are complete strangers, your grace. You know nothing about me.”
“I know enough to find you lovely and desirable. What more is necessary?”
“I could be a vicious harpy, for all you know.”
“I am willing to risk it. A thousand pounds a year during pleasure. Half that should we decide to part ways sooner.”
When Roslyn remained gaping with astonishment, he cocked his head and nodded briefly, as if coming to a decision. “Very well, two thousand. And of course I will pay all your expenses…a house and carriage plus an allowance for clothing and jewels.”
Roslyn couldn’t help being amused. It seemed an outrageous sum to offer an untried courtesan, although she knew Fanny made several times that amount. “How can you be certain I am worth it?”
Appreciative laughter lit his eyes as he gave a casual shrug. “Your beauty is alluring enough to satisfy my discriminating tastes. Anything else you need to know I can teach you.”
Roslyn’s own amusement faded as anger pricked her. Arden had unwittingly struck a raw nerve. He couldn’t know that her beauty-or more precisely, being coveted solely for her physical attributes-was a painfully sore point with her.
She also realized it was ridiculous to resent his quite generous proposition, since she was here tonight pretending to be a Cyprian. But after the other shameful offers she had already received over the past four years, she couldn’t respond with equanimity.
“I believe the proper response is to thank you for your generous offer, your grace,” she said coldly, withdrawing her wrist from his grasp, “but I must decline.”
His eyebrow shot up at her wintry tone. “It is common practice to feign reluctance in order to increase your price, but you will find that I dislike coyness.”
Roslyn bristled. “I do not have a price, nor am I trying to be coy. I simply have no desire to have you for my lover-despite your vaunted reputation.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did Fanny say something to give you a fear of me?”
“No.”
“If you need to assure yourself of my qualifications, I would be happy to demonstrate.”