Paying the Virgin's Price. Christine Merrill

notice, and she could hardly be blamed for it. She did find him to be a very handsome man. And she sincerely hoped she had misunderstood his intent toward her. He spoke easily enough with the girls, now that she was out of the way. There was nothing improper about his speech or manner. And he’d lost that curious sense of agitation he had brought to even the most mundane of his questions to her. When he rose to go, he thanked Verity and Honoria in turn, then paused as he looked in her direction, seeming to swallow his nerves before giving her the same polite words of thanks and a short stiff bow. And then, he was gone.

      There was a moment of silence, as though Verity wished to be sure that the man was totally out of earshot, before she spoke, as though he could hear their opinions of him through the brick walls and on the street. Then she turned and smiled at Honoria. ‘Well?’

      Honoria smiled and nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I think most definitely.’

      And then she turned to Diana. ‘And what do you think of the gentleman, Miss Price?’

      Apparently, she was to render the final verdict, and she did not wish to, for her own opinion was most decidedly mixed. She took care to discount her own strong reactions, and did her best to view him as she would any other prospective suitor. ‘I am glad that you are both so definite on the subject of Mr Dale. He seems a fine person, and was most courteous in his behaviour. Your inviting him into the house was not inappropriate, although it was somewhat unplanned. If there is a past history between your families it cannot be too terribly improper. But despite what you might think, we do not know him very well at all. I doubt your father or brothers would approve, should things progress to the point where he might make either of you an offer before they can be consulted.’

      ‘Us?’ Verity sat down, laughing heartily. ‘Oh, Diana. If you do not see the truth of what has been happening, you must be blind. However are we to trust you with advising us on our futures, if you cannot manage your own?’

      ‘What has my future to do with it?’

      Honoria grinned. ‘We heard the way you spoke of him, after his visit here yesterday. The vividness of your physical description was enough for Verity to pick him out of the crowd on Bond Street. And apparently, you did not see the way he looked at you when we met him.

      His eyes followed you as though you were the only woman present. So we waylaid the poor fellow and made ourselves as tiresome as possible. Then we left you alone together, as soon as we were able. You did not expect us to play chaperone, did you? For that would be more than a little ironic.’

      ‘Me?’ Her voice cracked on the word.

      ‘Yes, you, you goose,’ said Verity. ‘I wondered what would become of you, once I was wed. It would be so much better for me, were you to be a proper married lady as well, and not a companion to another. For then we could all remain friends and see each other as often as we liked.’

      ‘Me? Married?’

      ‘To Mr Dale,’ Honoria completed the thought. ‘You are right, Verity. It is the most perfect idea in the world.’

      ‘Me.’ And now that they had placed it there, the thought was stuck in her head and would not be dislodged. ‘Married.’ It had been so long since she had even thought of the word as it pertained to herself, that she could not manage to form a sentence around it. ‘To Mr Dale.’ If it had been one of the girls displaying an interest in the man, she would have given a lecture at this point about the importance of knowing a gentleman better before using such a word in connection with him. Horses should be put before carts. There should be frequent meetings between the interested parties. Affection and love were things that should be nurtured before a more permanent arrangement could be considered.

      But suddenly, she felt as foolish as either young girl. Her head was flooded with visions of a home of her own, a husband of her own, and her own children, all with the sparkling green eyes of Nathan Dale.

      If she were thinking clearly, then she would have told the girls that, if a gentlemen were as rushed into making an offer as they wished for Mr Dale to be, the offer he might make would be one that no proper woman could accept. What must he think of her? He must suspect that she had arranged their private conversation by manipulating the girls, all in an attempt to court him for herself. How would she be able to speak to the man, when next they met, if her head was full of romantic nonsense and his ideas were much more worldly?

      She forced her fears into the background and looked at the girls with her most prim and sensible gaze. ‘No. I am sorry. The idea does not appeal to me in the least. If this visit with him was arranged for my benefit, then while I thank you for the concern, I can assure you that no further such plans are necessary.’She swallowed hard, and lied. ‘I am quite content to remain as I am.’