“Good. I can’t endure simpering, vacuous women.” Claybourne paused a moment, holding her gaze. “But in your eagerness to list your drawbacks, Miss Loring, you are forgetting one chief advantage you hold over every other potential candidate for my bride.”
“Oh. What is that?”
“My attraction to you. I find you lovely and fascinating.”
Lily raised her gaze to the ceiling, and yet some small feminine part of her was foolishly pleased by his compliment.
Vexed by the very thought, she exhaled in a huff of exasperation. “Regardless…this entire discussion is meaningless, my lord. The simple truth is, I do not wish to marry you.”
“How do you know unless you put the issue to a true test?”
Chantel interrupted their exchange at that juncture. “Yes, Lily, darling, just consider. You would be a marchioness!”
Lily softened her reply to the kindhearted older woman. “I know, Chantel, but a title is of little importance to me. I care nothing for his lordship’s rank and consequence.”
The marquess responded with a rough chuckle. “Actually I find that reassuring. If you wed me, it will be because you want me, not my title or my fortune.”
Fleur entered the dispute then. “Lily, his lordship could be the ideal husband for you.”
Lily turned to eye her in dismay. “You mean to take his side?”
“Not entirely. But I do believe you may be well-matched. Lord Claybourne is a man of passion and daring, very much like you. And I think you should allow his courtship for a time.”
“Yes,” Chantel seconded her. “There are tremendous advantages to becoming Lady Claybourne, Lily. We can see it, even if you cannot at this stage in your life.”
“But Chantel, I have no desire for a title.”
“I am not merely talking about the title. A woman needs someone to protect and care for her. When you come to be our age, you will be glad to have a
husband and family. Surely you don’t want to end up poor and lonely in your later years as we have?”
Lily bit back her instinctive retort. She knew the two Cyprians worried deeply about financial security, but she hadn’t had any notion they were lonely. Even so, their circumstances were very different from her own. She had her sisters and close friends to ward off loneliness, and a modest fortune to insure she wouldn’t have to sell herself in order to survive, either in marriage or out of it.
“Lily,” Fleur remarked in a cajoling tone, “even if you don’t wish to wed his lordship now, you should give his courtship a chance. It is not every day that you find so alluring a suitor.” She sent the marquess a coy look from beneath her eyelashes. “So handsome. So charming. So masterful.”
“Yes,” Chantel said dreamily. “I could die for a man like that.”
“I could kill for a man like that,” Fleur said with more frankness. “Trust me, Lily, there are countless women who yearn to be in your shoes. Just look at him. How can you resist such a marvelous courtier?”
Lily found their observations totally exasperating, but she did look at Lord Claybourne. She couldn’t deny he had a commanding presence that was made even more compelling by his aura of virile, vital energy. Add to that his strikingly handsome features and effortless charm, and he became a lethal weapon against feminine hearts.
She could easily see why the marquess was a great favorite with females of every stamp, and why adoring admirers flocked to him in droves. But his legendary achievements as a lover were a prime reason for her to avoid Lord Claybourne entirely. She most certainly didn’t want to be among the legions of lovelorn women who surrendered their hearts and bodies to him.
Indeed, she should be wise enough by now to be inured to his admittedly undeniable appeal. So why did his mere nearness play havoc with her composure? Why did his slow smile make her pulse race and her stomach turn somersaults? Lily wondered as her eyes were drawn irresistibly back to his.
The amused gleam she saw there in the hazel depths suggested he understood her deplorable attraction to him.
Vexed, Lily swore a silent oath. That was the most damning reason to refuse his request to court her: She feared succumbing to Claybourne’s captivating allure. She had already proven how susceptible she was to his stunning kisses.
When she remained stubbornly mute, Fleur addressed the marquess with a regretful sigh. “I am sorry, my lord, but I fear your quest might be hopeless. Lily is completely immune to masculine charm, even yours.”
“I am not willing to give up just yet.”
“There may be a way to solve this impasse, Fleur,” Chantel said slowly. “The game.”
Fleur immediately brightened. “Do you think she would agree?”
“We could try to convince her.”