Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [64]
When she had thought of honesty being a good idea, she had not expected quite this much to be required of her. What would he think if she answered with the whole truth? If she satisfied all his curiosity?
She had never explained herself to anyone before, of course. Perhaps, if Latham had not returned to London, she might have considered it now. Only she did not trust Castleford, or anyone, to know the truth and keep it private.
She picked over his little speech, to find something to say. “I do not think it is very obvious that we want—”
His dramatic sigh cut her off. He just looked at her, expecting an answer.
Rather suddenly she found herself at that point where she was hard-pressed to come up with a reason that made sense, that he would not demolish with ease, and that she wanted to share. Bereft of an excuse, she used Celia’s advice for delaying this pursuit.
“You are known to frequent brothels, sir. For my health alone, it would be most unwise to succumb to your blandishments.”
She stunned him. At least she hoped that was the explanation for the way his face froze. Not only stunned but dumbfounded, apparently. He stood up and looked down on her, speechless. Then he walked away.
She felt obliged to stand too. She saw him near the open flap, appearing very thoughtful and, she regretfully noted, angry. Celia had warned he would not take it well. That was an understatement.
His attention settled on her again. A bemused half smile broke, but danger lurked in those eyes. “Mrs. Joyes, did I hear correctly? Are you accusing me of being diseased?”
“The possibility is there. That is all I am saying. One cannot be too careful.”
“I agree. Which is why I am most careful. I assure you that I am not a danger to you.”
She swallowed hard. “One never knows.”
His gaze sharpened. “One most certainly knows.”
“The results of recent debauches may not be apparent yet to you.” She had no idea if that was even true. She just trusted that Celia’s reference to at least a reprieve referred to something having to do with that.
He sighed audibly. Not in exasperation, the way he normally did. This deep exhale sounded too much like a man seeking to keep his temper in check.
“Mrs. Joyes,” he said with strained calm. “There are certain establishments known to be fastidious regarding the health of the women who work there. This is why I am writing my book—so men coming to town can be directed to such places and not find themselves lured into others. I limit myself to such establishments, as do all men of good sense.” He sighed again. His jaw twitched. “Furthermore, there are steps to protect oneself from such disease, which I am known to take.” He sighed once more, then scowled. “Damnation, I cannot believe I am explaining this as if you have a right to hear it.”
“Book or no, steps or no, I dare not consider a liaison under the circumstances.”
His eyes narrowed on her. His expression hardened. He advanced toward her, and she instinctively backed up. If she ever saw Castleford this angry again, she hoped it was from far away.
He subjected her eyes to a deep scrutiny. “So you have been dodging me because of this. I suppose, with the stories you have heard, there is some sense in denying us both out of fear of the worst.”
“I am relieved that you understand. I think that, under the circumstances, it would be better if I took my leave now and—”
“Will a physician’s letter attesting to my health satisfy you?”
She had to firm her jaw to resist gaping at him.
“It would be presumptuous of me to expect you to procure one. Better if we just agreed that you will keep the diamonds, and I will keep my . . . privacy.”
“I do not mind procuring one. In fact, I insist on doing so. I will also get letters from the physicians who examine the inhabitants of the establishments that I have visited the last year.”
“How . . . thorough of you.”