“Why are you doing this, if even this is burdensome to you?” she said in a low voice. “You try to hide it, but you must feel a strong sense of responsibility to be putting yourself through this. You do know that this is child’s play compared to having to make the rounds in Society.” She paused, then took a deep breath and exhaled. “Especially since you will be with me.” She turned to look at him, drawing her brows together. “I will make things much more difficult for you.”

He leaned in, brushing her shoulder with his. “Or you will make it much more pleasurable.”

Oh. The way he said the last word, drawing it out through his mouth as though savoring it. As though he wanted to savor her.

She shuddered in reaction, trying not to imagine it. Unfortunately, the side effect of being a truly ruined woman is that one knew precisely what one was imagining. Mr. Baxter had been reasonable in that way, at least. If in nothing else.

And it had been so very long.

“Remind me to ask you again when you find yourself confronted by some disapproving lord.” She spoke in a prim tone of voice, as much for her own benefit as for his. She could not allow herself to get distracted by the thought of all that. Even though he was entirely distracting, especially in that way.

“A disapproving lord who probably has some ninny of a daughter he’d much rather I end up with.” He spoke in a disgusted tone. “No thank you. I far prefer the ruined woman in this scenario.” He shrugged. “Besides which, it will give me an excuse to punch somebody in the nose if they impugn your honor.”

Her stomach flipped at his words. Della hadn’t had anybody but her sisters and brothers-in-law stand up for her, and none of them had ever offered violence toward someone who’d insulted her. Although Ida might, if provoked enough. It felt comforting, even though she would loathe it if he did it in truth.

Which reminded her to remind him. “You’re not allowed to do that, remember? I can take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes. “Surely you’ll allow me to do just a little bit of punching? If it was in response to a comment?”

She shook her head, even though the thought was appealing. But she knew men—if they thought they had permission for one thing, invariably they believed the permission extended far beyond the original limit.

“No, you cannot. But thank you.”

They’d just met, and they had yet to get along, but he was offering, as though it was nothing, to support her. She would be safe with him, she knew that.

Although she wasn’t certain she would be safe from herself.

Chapter 6