“So she is,” Beaufort agreed mildly, not nearly as disturbed as Maura expected.
“I am surprised you sound so calm. To hear Kate tell it, females have been relentlessly hounding you to marry for years. You can’t be happy that she has joined their ranks.”
“She claims she has only my best interests at heart.”
Maura studied him in surprise. “Well, she has gone daft if she thinks we will play the part of legendary lovers to prove her ridiculous theory.”
Beaufort shook his head. “I’ve come to believe her theory is not as farfetched as I first presumed.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You must realize that our Wilde family history is rife with famous lovers—both our ancestors and more recently. My own parents’ romance was legendary, as was Skye and Quinn’s parents’. Kate is hoping I will follow tradition and find a grand passion in marriage with my soul mate. It’s a family legacy.”
Maura stared at him. “Are you saying you actually believe that certain people are fated to be together?”
“I cannot discount it.”
This astonishing admission left her momentarily speechless. It stood to reason that Beaufort took pride in his family name. Wildes were known for their passionate natures as well as for creating scandals. But none of that applied to her, Maura reasoned.
“Well, perhaps your family is accustomed to imitating legendary lovers in fairy tales, but mine is not. The very notion of my being Cinderella is absurd. I bear little resemblance to the girl in Perrault’s tale. My stepmother never made me sit among the ashes or sent me off to a cold garret, and my stepsisters are sweet, lovable girls. And more to the point, I most certainly do not need or want a prince to come to my rescue.”
“I well know it,” Beaufort murmured, clearly amused. “If I had ever mistaken you for a damsel in distress, you would have obliterated my assumption countless times over these past two days.”
Suspecting that he was mocking her, Maura went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I refuse to be the pitiful weakling stepchild who cannot fend for herself and must rely on magic to win a husband.” She sent him a narrow-eyed glance. “I am not looking to marry anyone, your lordship. You needn’t worry that I will cast my lures at you.”
“It never once crossed my mind,” he said dryly. “But you have aroused my curiosity. I presume your father’s scandal is a prime reason you are still unmarried? And that your unsavory experience with Deering helped foster your dislike of men, or at least of noblemen.”
“It is true that Deering gave me a bad taste for noblemen.”
“That I can comprehend. Deering is a lecher of the first order.”
“What of your own lechery? All you think about is lovemaking.”
The slow, wicked smile he flashed her was pure, unadulterated charm. “I beg to differ. I frequently think about many other things. Just now for instance, I am wondering where our next meal will come from, and where we will sleep tonight. But I admit, making love to you does have enormous appeal.”
Maura made a dismissive sound. “Let me be clear, Lord Beaufort, I have no intention of becoming your lover—legendary or otherwise.”
“Why not?”
The frank question made her falter. The brazen truth was, she wanted to know what Beaufort’s lovemaking would be like. She didn’t want to remain a chaste, lonely spinster for the rest of her days, never satisfying her feminine yearnings, her curious wonder, her craving for a tender touch.
And yet she had other considerations besides herself.
“I don’t wish to incite another family scandal, for one thing,” Maura answered honestly.
“Why would you fear a little more scandal?” he asked. “Isn’t that like locking the barn door after the horse has been stolen, so to speak?”
She almost smiled at his pointed reference to her.
“No, vixen,” Beaufort mused aloud, “you don’t strike me as someone who is overly concerned about propriety or what society thinks of her.”
“I do not care overly much,” Maura admitted rather quietly. “Society’s strictures became much less important after I lost my father. Compared to matters of life and death, some things just seem so … trivial. But I have to think of my stepsisters. I don’t want to hurt their chances to marry well.”
“If your theft lands you in prison, it will surely hurt their chances. If you really cared about them, you would return to London immediately.”
Maura knew he was right about prison. “I do care about them, so my best course is to keep my distance. My stepmother will disown me anyway, once she learns what I have done.”
“In that case, us becoming lovers shouldn’t matter.”