innocent, he couldn’t help needling her a bit. It was fascinating to stand in the presence of such untouched purity, when Nick had gone through his adult life avoiding such women. Give him a loose chit any day.
“Are you always so crass and offensive?”
“Yes. A man has a reputation to uphold after all, and women don’t come to me for my gentlemanly manners. I’m still waiting for you to tell me exactly what you want. Whatever it is, I can assure you I’m up to the task.”
She issued a huff of annoyance and shook her head as if he were an exasperating child. “What I want is a husband.”
Well. He certainly wasn’t up for that. The absurdity of her statement as she stood in the office of the Gentleman Courtesans was too much. Nick couldn’t hold in the laughter that bubbled in his chest, disbelief tinging the sound.
“A … a husband? My dear, I think you’ve come to the wrong place.”
His laughter only seemed to infuriate her, and she let out a sound that was something between a grunt and a growl as she snatched up the pelisse hanging over the back of her chair. She jerked it on while glaring at him. If looks could kill, he’d be incinerated on the spot.
“I can see that this was a mistake. I’m sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Burke. It is clear to me that despite Mr. Sterling’s insistence, you are not the right man for this job.”
“Wait,” he called out, trailing her to the door. “I’m sorry … I just … I thought you were joking. But you weren’t, were you?”
She whirled to face him after snatching the door open to reveal Benedict, who stood on the other side watching them with undisguised curiosity.
“No, Mr. Burke. I was in earnest, and I was willing to part with a good deal of my inheritance for your services … but I can see now that I was foolish to think this would work. Good day.”
Nick stared at Benedict as she took her leave, dumbfounded.
“Just wait there, you idiot,” Benedict said between snorts of muffled laughter. Then, he strode off after the retreating lady. “Miss Barrington, please wait …”
She halted, glaring at him over her shoulder as Benedict murmured something to her that Nick could not hear. Her expression softened, and whatever Benedict was saying seemed to sooth her ruffled feathers. However, she did not return.
Benedict came back while Calliope made her escape, her footsteps echoing sharply over the floorboards.
“What the devil was that about?” Nick exploded the moment they were closed away. “Did you know that woman came here looking to get leg-shackled?”
Now that they were alone, Benedict gave in to the laughter making his shoulders shake and his face turn red, further stoking Nick’s annoyance. He didn’t know whether his friend had knowingly set him up to be made a fool of, but he didn’t appreciate walking into such a trap. The poor woman had likely been embarrassed by the entire affair, and now Nick’s hopes for a new arrangement had been dashed.
“I’m glad you find this all so amusing,” he muttered, striding over to the cabinet where Benedict kept several decanters stocked with spirits.
He selected brandy and half-filled a tumbler. By the time he’d taken his first sip, Benedict had calmed, moving toward his desk and settling behind it.
“She doesn’t want to marry you, you dolt. What she needs is someone to court her so the clueless fop she really wants will take notice.”
Nick dropped into the chair Calliope had abandoned, his head spinning as he tried to make sense of that. “I don’t understand.”
“She has her eye on a specific gentleman,” Benedict said slowly, as if speaking to an imbecile. “The man sees her as a friend, but Miss Barrington is desiring that he see her as a potential bride. She has surmised—quite rightly, I think—that the illusion of competition will bring him up to scratch.”
Nick frowned down at his brandy. “This woman wants to pay me to court her?”
That was certainly disappointing. He could think of a number of things he would do to the electrifying Calliope Barrington, but courtship was not on that list.
“She wants to pay you to pretend to court her. Just until her suitor takes notice.”
Nick wrinkled his nose, as he could think of nothing he’d like less than escorting some unmarried girl about Town and pretending to be enamored with her. He accepted any number of invitations every week, mostly because a man