are you telling me? Are we done with our charade? Have you moved on to Lord Bryant?”
“No.” She swatted his shoulder with her hand. He resisted the urge to grab it. “But I may make a play for him for now while we are not courting. You never know.”
“You never know?” Miss Morgan was not even Lord Bryant’s type. Anthony hadn’t followed him closely, but he knew Lord Bryant had managed to ruin the reputations of a few serious and well-spoken women. Miss Morgan wasn’t serious, and although at times she was well-spoken, it was not in the manner of the quiet Miss Paynter. “He will never have you.” She was much too silly.
“He may! I know the rumors say he won’t marry, but perhaps he just needs someone of quality.”
“Last year he had a scandal with the daughter of a marquess, and he never bothered to marry her. And you know what happened after that.” Miss Morgan was foolish at times, but she had always been smart about how she moved about in society. She must see the folly in her actions. “The woman was forced to settle for the only man that would have her. A squire. A man not much higher in society than a farmer. Do you want to end up like her?”
Miss Morgan’s face hardened. She stepped forward until they were close enough that if someone opened the door on them now, it wouldn’t matter what either of them thought. They would be rushed into a marriage.
“A squire is more than what you are.” She scrunched her face in a manner that was not endearing at all. “I’m going to try for Lord Bryant. It isn’t as though I have much to lose. My position in society and my money will still be the same if, indeed, he has no long-term interest in me. We have always known a match between us was not a love match. Let’s not let jealousy enter into our agreement.”
Anthony’s fingernails dug into the palms of his hands, and he gritted his teeth. “We have no agreement.” His voice was low and rough, but he didn’t care. “I’ve worked for two years to get an agreement out of you, and in two weeks’ time, you have managed to succumb to the charms of that rogue, Lord Bryant.”
“He is dashing and exciting—not to mention a lord.” She reached up and pushed him farther away with her index finger on his chest. “The exact opposite of you. Perhaps after two years I am craving something exciting. If nothing happens from it, we can return to our original plan.”
He was serious and boring, was he? No comparison to the exciting baron. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest. After watching the children’s play, he had vowed to try harder to smile more. Well, he could try to be more exciting as well. If the only thing missing from his relationship with Miss Morgan was excitement, perhaps it was time to give it to her.
He cupped her chin in his hand and angled her face to his. Her breath hitched, and a spark of interest flashed in her eyes. This is what he should have done a year ago. “Kiss me, and let’s put an end to this game.”
For a moment, she leaned toward him, until the sparks faded, and she slowly pulled her hand out of his grasp. “No.”
He stepped away, not sure what had possessed him. When he had walked into the drawing room, he was worried she was expecting a proposal, and now he was trying to kiss her and get an agreement out of her? The way her eyes lit up when she spoke of Lord Bryant made his eyesight and his reason lose focus. When he finally spoke, his voice was like gravel. “Why not?”
“Mr. Woodsworth.” She emphasized the formal use of his name. “We are not engaged.”
“Yes, you have made yourself quite clear on that point. But let me ask you this: if Lord Bryant wanted to kiss you, would you allow him to?”
She flicked her wrist. “That is different. You would take it so seriously.”
“And he would not.”
“Precisely.”
“So you would happily kiss a man who felt no responsibility toward you just because of his rank.”
“Not just because of his rank. Lord Bryant is exciting, and talked about, and so, so . . .” Her hand went to her chest. “Alive.”
“And I am not?”
She laughed again. He had the sudden desire to throw his hands