"You will if you know what's good for you," she said, spreading her legs wide. "And I'm told I'm very, very good."
He looked directly at her, not even trying to avert his eyes from the fact that she was not wearing any drawers. "Yes, but there has to be some modicum of lust for a man to be capable of an erection. I'm afraid even if intellectually I was willing to give in, physically I would be incapable. You disgust me utterly. Get your clothes on and get out."
She gasped in fury. "You're going to wish you had never-"
Arabella stepped out of the dispensary now.
Both looked at her in surprise. Rosalie tried to shock her by spreading her legs even more widely.
"I believe the good doctor has already made his feelings perfectly clear upon the subject of you resuming your acquaintance," Arabella said calmly, though inside she was sure she was about to faint.
"And since he always has a woman present when he examines one, for the sake of propriety and reassurance, no one is going to believe your lies. You think you're so clever. But you have only made him actively dislike you, instead of be merely indifferent to you. Just recall this day you spread yourself like a wanton and tried to defame him if you ever need to ask yourself why Blake can never be yours."
She turned to Blake. "Dinner is ready. Would you care to wash up and join me?"
"Yes, thank you." He took her hand and they left Rosalie naked and fuming.
"How did you-" he gasped when they were out of earshot.
"I heard her laugh. I knew she was up to no good."
"I'm really sorry about-" he began to apologise.
She shook her head. "It isn't your fault."
"But I'm sure that Peter didn't want you to be exposed to women like her."
"Yet I work at the clinic. Peter supported it, I'm certain."
"Rosalie is different. She can't seem to help herself. There is a huge difference between women who do it because it's a job, and women who are so immoderate they do it for only the power and the pleasure of wreaking havoc."
"Well, whyever she's doing it, we need to eat, get dressed and go to Lady Radcliffe's for her monthly soiree. Put Rosalie out of your mind. She can say what she likes, but most people with any sense will know why she's doing it and not pay any attention."
"I certainly hope so. What she said about- Well, it simply isn't true. I would never-"
She put her hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to justify yourself to me. I know you value life above all. That is not to say you might not have to give an abortion if it were a case of trying to save someone's life, now would it?
"But I understand that. I know there are reasons why having a baby can be dangerous. They told my mother that after I was born. I understand it all now, thanks to you."
"You understand a lot more than I intended, thanks to Rosalie."
Arabella blushed. "Do I-" She dropped her voice to a mere whisper. "Do I look like that?"
"No. Far more lovely. She's shop-worn and frowsy. You're beautiful. All over. Like a rose without thorns. Perfection."
He cleared his throat. "And now, we shall resume our normal guardian to ward relationship, and never speak of that again."
For indeed Blake could barely speak at all, his desire was surging so ardently at the thought of her naked at the inn, him touching her, kissing her…
Blake's high color told her something was amiss, but she thought it was anger combined with embarrassment over what Rosalie had tried to do right in front of her.
My goodness, she had become a voyeur, both fascinated and appalled at the manner in which Rosalie had tried to lure Blake into her bed.
It had been a lesson in how not to do it. Arabella had been right all along. Blake was not the kind of man who wanted an obvious woman.
She took heart in that fact, and also from his refusal of Rosalie. He had had no difficulty in showing his ample desire for her at the inn. She had to be patient a bit longer. He did have needs, and he had feelings for her which, if they were not love yet, were warm and friendly.
She dressed with care that night in a new sapphire and gold silk gown she had not been able to resist at the shops.
Blake's heart nearly lurched into his mouth when he saw her. Her tiara swept her hair up into the latest classical mode, and her swan-like neck and lovely bosom were displayed rather more than he was accustomed to despite the covering of sheer golden tulle which filled the square neckline.
His mouth went dry, and he stammered out words of admiration. "You look, well, lovely."
"Thank you. It isn't too much, is it?"