Lord deliver him from ladies and their flapping tongues. “You should not believe everything you hear in ladies’ salons.”
“I usually do not, but when one hears as much about a particular gentleman as I have heard about you . . . one tends to believe there is a kernel of truth in the gossip. Where there is smoke, there is flame and all that.”
“I cannot imagine what you have heard.”
It was a lie. Of course he knew.
She waved one hand. “Well, some of it is utter nonsense. They say, for example, that you can relieve a lady of her clothing without the use of your hands.”
“Do they?”
She smiled. “Silly, I know. I definitely do not believe that.”
“Why not?”
“In the absence of physical force, an object at rest remains at rest,” she explained.
He couldn’t resist. “Ladies’ clothing is the object at rest in this particular scenario?”
“Yes. And the physical force required to move said object would be your hands.”
Did she have any idea what a tempting picture she’d painted with such precise, scientific description? He didn’t think so. “I am told they are very talented.”
She blinked. “As we have established, I have been told the same. But I assure you, sir, they do not defy the laws of physics.”
Oh, how he wanted to prove her wrong.
But she had already moved on. “At any rate. This one’s maid’s sister, that one’s cousin’s friend, the other’s friend’s cousin or maid’s cousin . . . women talk, Mr. Cross. And you should be aware that they are not ashamed to reveal details. About you.”
He raised a brow. “What kind of details?”
She hesitated, and the blush returned. He resisted the pleasure that coursed through him at the pretty pink wash. Was there anything more tempting than a woman flushed with scandalous thoughts?
“I am told you are the kind of gentleman who has a keen understanding of the . . . mechanics . . . of the act in question.” She was utterly, completely matter-of-fact. As though they were discussing the weather.
She had no idea what she was doing. What beast she was tempting. What she did have, however, was courage—the kind that was bound to drive fine, upstanding ladies directly into trouble.
And he knew better than to be a party to it.
He placed both hands on the top of his desk, stood and, for the first time that afternoon, spoke the truth. “I am afraid you were told wrong, Lady Philippa. And it is time for you to leave. I shall do you a service and neglect to tell your brother-in-law that you were here. In fact, I shall forget you were here at all.”
She stilled for a long moment, and he realized that her lack of movement was out of character. The woman had not been still since he’d woken to the soft sound of her fingertips sliding over the pages of the ledger. The fact that she was still now unnerved him; he steeled himself for what came next, for some logical defense, some strange turn of phrase that would tempt him more than he was willing to admit.
“I suppose it will be easy for you to forget me.”
There was nothing in the tone to suggest that she angled for a compliment or a refusal. Nothing he would have expected from other women. Though he was coming to realize that there was nothing about Lady Philippa Marbury that was at all like other women.
And he was willing to guarantee that it would be impossible to forget her.
“But I’m afraid that I cannot allow it,” she pressed on, frustration clear in her tone as he had the impression that she was speaking to herself rather than to him. “I have a great deal of questions, and no one to answer them. And I’ve only fourteen days to learn.”
“What happens in fourteen days?”
Dammit. He didn’t care. He shouldn’t have asked.
Surprise flashed at the question, and he had the sense that she had forgotten him. She tilted her head again, brow furrowed as though his query was ridiculous. Which, of course, it was.
“I am to be married.”
That, he knew. For two seasons, Lady Philippa had been courted by Lord Castleton, a young dandy with little between his ears. But Cross had forgotten her future husband the moment she’d introduced herself, bold, brilliant and not a little bit bizarre.
There was nothing about this woman to indicate that she would make an even-halfway-decent Countess of Castleton.
It’s not your problem.
He cleared his throat. “My very best wishes.”
“You don’t even know who my husband is to be.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Her brows shot up. “You do? How?”
“Aside from the facts that your brother-in-law is my business partner, and that the double wedding of the final sisters Marbury is the talk of the ton, you will find that there are few things that happen at any level of society about which I do not know.” He paused. “Lord Castleton is fortunate indeed.”
“That’s very gracious of you.”
He shook his head. “Not grace. Truth.”
One side of her mouth twitched. “And me?”