A Virtuous Lady

“Deny it on peril of your immortal soul, Lady Ravensworth,” he dared her, “that you cherish a tendre for me in your breast.”

It was so unfair in him to use one of her few virtues to gain mastery over her. How could she answer him? “Don’t count on it, Ravensworth,” she whispered as his lips moved over her face. “A very small flame is easily extinguished.”

His hands moved to her back, molding her to his length. “But I shall take such pains to fan it,” he responded, capturing her pouting lips with his own

“Listen to me, Miss Briony Langland. The man you give yourself to will be me or you will give yourself to no man.” His tone gentled. “Don’t you understand anything at all, you foolish girl?” He bent his head to her face, his gaze lingering on every feature, and Briony felt his breath warm against her temple

Harriet, quite naturally, imparted the information to her beau, Lord Avery, who gleefully told his friend, Lord Ravensworth, in the strictest confidence. That gentleman mulled the information over in his mind. He perceived that there never had been the slightest hope that Briony would ever have accepted what he now came to regard as his preposterous proposal. Not only was she a lady of virtue but, more to the point, she was a lady of independent means