Chapter 7

"I'm afraid you'll have to watch me undress again," Prospero said as they crossed the street toward his home.

"What?" Elise stumbled on a raised cobblestone, and Prospero reached out, catching her easily.

How does the man do that? It was as though he had the reflexes of a jungle cat. She had seen one of those large beasts once at the London Zoo. It had prowled about its enclosure with a slow and lethal grace, its yellow eyes glowing bright against its black fur. She had sketched its musculature for hours, marveling at the perfection of the creature and wishing she had Cinna's talent for capturing animals on paper. She thought of what the Reverend J. G. Wood wrote of the cat tribe upon his visit to the zoo:

"None of the Felidae can be ungraceful, whatever position they may assume, and whether they haunt the desert, the jungle, the tree, or the hearth, they display in every movement an unconscious grace that baffles the pencil of the most accomplished draftsman."

That was not only true of jungle cats, but also of this darkly handsome man who now held her waist. He peered down at her, his eyes vibrant as he watched her.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "It seems you end up tripping whenever the matter of undressing comes up."

She knew the reason, of course. The man kept mentioning things that distracted her, and she found it hard to concentrate on walking.

"I got lost in my thoughts," she murmured.

"I'm sure you did."

She forced herself to refocus on the practicality of the situation. "You need to change clothes?"

"Yes, I can't exactly wear my evening suit to the museum. It's rather rumpled from last night's... study. I hope you don't mind if we make a quick stop at my house to allow me to change?"

"Not at all," she assured him.

He released her waist and tucked her arm in his to escort her to his home. The walls were thick with unkept ivy, but she liked that sort of wild look. As though it were a prince's home, but one you might find half-hidden in an enchanted wood.

"I apologize in advance for the condition of the house. It's well... You'll see." He unlocked the door and went in ahead of her to light a lamp and open a few curtains.

She followed him in and closed the door. Dust lingered on every surface in the meager patches of sunlight, and a mustiness hung in the air. It was not the welcome scent of old books from sunlight-illuminated tomes on shelves, but rather a dark, unpleasant smell of human absence and an intentional lack of care by those who'd lived here.

Through the grime and gloom however, she could see the house's bones, the sturdy walls, the fine oak staircase and ornately decorated ceilings. With some love and devotion, this could become a shining jewel of a home once again. She was glad that she had insisted on paying Lord March more than had been promised in her original advertisement.

It took her a moment to realize he was the one studying her now as she formed her first impressions of the house.

"It is in poor shape," he admitted. She could hear the regret and pain in his voice.

"True, but you can restore it. I have faith in you." Why she had said that, she wasn't sure, but she did mean it. She knew on an instinctive level that he was the kind of man who would care for the things and the people that mattered to him.

Perhaps her father was right—she could learn more from real, genuine conversations.

"Did you grow up in this home?" she asked.

He led her up the stairs and through a corridor to a bedchamber she guessed was his. "Yes, but my father also used to have a country estate. Marchlands." He sighed the word in a soft, sad way. "He sold it two years ago to an aging baron. Then the man died without an heir, and the property was all but abandoned. I adored Marchlands most. I hunted in those woods, fished in its lake, and skipped stones on the water. I climbed every tree and even built a little lodge once among the branches of one of the trees."

"You had a tree house?" She was enchanted by the idea. It sounded like one of the most wonderful things imaginable, both as a child and as an adult.

He grinned. "Oh yes. It had a little door, a thatched roof that would have made any Cotswold native proud, and a pallet for me to nap. I had a collection of my favorite sticks and rocks, a few beetles in jars, and my pet squirrel."

"You had a pet squirrel? So did I!"

Prospero's eyes widened. "You did?"

She nodded eagerly. "Mine was a little beauty, one of those red squirrels with tufted ears. She used to sit on my lap while I read books in the garden." Elise followed him into a dusty old bedchamber and seated herself on the bed, although she coughed as a cloud of dust rose up around her. He waved his hand in the air to dispel some of the dust in front of his face before he set his travel case beside her.

"Squirrels can be delightful companions, can't they?" he said with a chuckle as he unpacked a few items of his clothing.

He set aside a light-gray wool suit and removed a pair of worn black shoes that he took a moment to buff with a cloth so that they regained some of their old shine. She observed these small male rituals, soaking in every detail.

And then he began to undress again.

She refused to look away. She took in the sight of him and the way the shadows played over the dip of his hips. Her eyes tracked the muscled lines of his arms as he pulled off the shirt he'd worn the night before. He ran a hand through the fall of his dark hair and turned to look at her, as if encouraging her to enjoy what she was seeing.

Elise found that she liked that... seeing him take pleasure in her watching him. There was an undeniable intimacy to it that she'd never imagined possible. That drive within her to seek knowledge in all its forms urged her to study this further, to learn everything she could about the feelings he created within her. The heat she felt low in her belly demanded some kind of relief. She wanted to understand everything about him, and she wanted to know how this man could make her feel so much when she'd been so determined to stay aloof during her study.

"I was thinking," Prospero began as he pulled out a fresh shirt. "My philosophies and motivations are all well and good, but I think there is a significant part of your study that is missing."

"Oh? What part is that?"

"You are operating under the knowledge that men are to be studied like animals, correct?"

"Yes, as I would do with women were I not already quite familiar with them." She watched his fingers button up the waistcoat that matched his suit.

Those fingers were long and elegant, though not too slender. She suddenly imagined them loosening the stays of her corset and how very deft they would be in removing all of her clothing. Her corset seemed to tighten as she inhaled sharply, imagining him doing just that... peeling her clothing off and studying her bare body.

Oh dear... She'd never had that sort of daydream before.

"Well, you realize being an animal means that part of one's instincts are about attraction."

"Attraction," she echoed.

The look he was giving her could melt butter and was certainly melting her.

"Oh yes. The laws of attraction, and I mean primal animal attraction, predate any laws that mankind has created. You haven't asked me about that yet. After all, a large part of any creature's life is the urge to mate and continue the species."

He finished slitting the last button on his waistcoat just as he said the word mate, and that juxtaposition of the man before her, the epitome of a gentleman, against his discussion of animal mating sent a wildfire through her body.

"W—well, yes of course. I had planned on having an interview with you on the subject. My research would be incomplete if I did not address the idea of... mating," The word felt suddenly dangerous and exciting in a way it never had before. Mating was so different than seduction. The latter was a performance, while the former was animalistic, raw, wild.

"Yes." He reached out and tilted her chin up so he could better see her face as he stepped closer. "Think of all that you can learn if you let me show you what it means to be courted by a male. Isn't that the most important part of your study? To know what males think about, what we dream about and hunger for?"

There were sudden flashes in her mind of male birds as they displayed their feathers and arched their wings in provocative ways in order to attract a female to mate. What did human males do to entice females into bed? She'd always thought that they talked of their money, their connections, or bragged about themselves in general, but Prospero suggested something quite different was at play. So far, he'd shown her none of the things she'd come to associate with men when they were around eligible women.

"You want to court me?" she asked.

"For the study, of course," he replied in a husky whisper, his warm breath fanning over her lips and cheeks. "Let me teach you about the lovers' language of kisses and caresses, of the pleasures that will enlighten you to the beautiful mystery of human desire."

The beautiful mystery of human desire... Had any other man spoken such words she would have scoffed, but when Prospero said them, those words held a dark, potent, and delicious power to affect her in ways she didn't understand. But she could let him teach her...

She wasn't a fool. She was no innocent young debutante just out of finishing school. Prospero's intentions were for a practical education, not theoretical discussions. He wished to seduce her, pure and simple. It would certainly gain her far more insight into the subject than any conversation, but it would mean ruination if anyone ever found out. Of course, she had no plans to marry, but the practical part of her had to at least acknowledge the consequences of what Prospero was proposing.

Still, she would have the answers she sought to the beautiful mystery of human desire.

"What's it to be, my little naturalist?" Prospero asked in a low, gruff voice that sent shivers through her. No one had ever talked to her with such a gentle yet possessive intimacy before. She liked it, perhaps a little too much.

"Yes... very well. Show me. But I must make one condition."

He waited patiently for her terms.

"I cannot bring a child into this world like this."

"We will take precautions. I am well-versed in them," Prospero promised.

She would have trusted no other man with something so important, but she did trust him. Yet something else niggled at the back of her mind, and she was too forthright in her nature not to bring it up.

"I don't want you to think of me as you did those women in Paris. I don't want to use you, Prospero, not like that."

His beautiful blue eyes pierced her. "The fact that you said that is what makes it different. You wouldn't be using me, and I would not be selling myself. We share a mutual desire, and have much to teach each other. We would be sharing ourselves with each other as equals."

It was perhaps those last words that made her mind up for her. Sharing themselves with each other as equals. Yes, that was what she wanted if she was to agree to this.

Her tone turned breathless. "Then we are agreed that we can explore this attraction."

"We are agreed. And your first lesson starts now." Prospero bent his head, closing the distance between their mouths, and kissed her.

* * *

That first touch of his lips to hers was like a fire exploding to life for Prospero. The unexpected flash of thrill and anticipation was so strong that he reached for her, grasping her hips to hold her as tenderly but firmly as he could. The number of kisses he'd shared with other women was more numerous than the stars in the sky, but this one, so innocent, so new, so pure, was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It flared like a newly born star in the sky, pure in its intention. There was no manipulation, no coercion, no inequality to the moment. It was a kiss between a woman seeking to know desire and a man who wanted to teach her all she might ever wish to learn. She gasped against his lips as he pulled her closer. Her hands fluttered hesitantly against his chest.

"Hold on to me. Touch me."

Bolstered by his encouragement, she settled her hands on his shoulders, her fingers digging in as she leaned close and held him tight. Her lips moved as hesitantly as her hands at first, but he showed her what to do and guided her mouth with his own. After a few long, delicious moments, she showed signs of mastering kisses in a way that any courtesan would envy. A quick study!

Prospero grew drunk on the sweet taste of her and dizzy from the faint floral scent that clung to her skin. Women often wore heavy perfumes, but Elise smelled like an English garden. She'd had dozens of flowers in her study at the society headquarters. He remembered how she'd studied that moth he'd seen clinging to the petals of a peony. Something about that filled him with quiet wonder, picturing her surrounded by flowers all day while studying a little creature, never aware that she was carrying the scent of those beautiful blooms about her. Evidence of her devotion to science.

The scent lingered even now, filling his head with visions of taking this woman to a bed of rose petals, or dancing with her beneath the starlight while moonflowers bloomed. He had the urge to learn all that he could about her, as though she were his own private museum to explore, and bask in the mysteries he had sworn to show her.

Elise's lips pulled away from his, and they stood, still clutching each other in the dim, dusty bedchamber. He'd actually forgotten they were in this old room and not among the flowers and trees outside. Elise's light-brown eyes, usually wide with curiosity, were soft and slumbrous now, and he saw a flicker of feminine knowing that came from discovering one's sensuality.

"Women are natural kissers," he said in a low voice. "It is often the men who must take lessons."

"Oh?" That single questioning syllable somehow heated his blood even more. Her lips, forming that O shape, gave him many wicked ideas about what he wanted her to use that mouth for.

"Indeed. Women are more in tune with their natures, though most men refuse to admit it."

"But you don't mind?" Her brown eyes traced the movement of his lips as he spoke. He had a feeling she was still thinking about kissing him, and he liked that. He wanted her to lose her scientific thoughts at moments like this, if only for her to experience passion without reason dulling its effects.

"I fully admit it. I adore women. You are a brave, beautiful, fierce set of creatures with mysteries that run deeper than the seas. And you have an inner light that, when given room to grow, can outshine the brightest of stars."

Pain flashed across her face. "In my experience, men often seek to dim or extinguish that light." She ducked her chin, looking away.

"More fools, they." He lifted her chin so their eyes met. "You know much of animals. Tell me, do the females in the wild allow males to dim their shine?"

When she shook her head, he smiled. "Then be like them. Defend your light with the ferocity of a lioness. Let no one take it from you, or diminish it. Protect it with all you have."

The light in her eyes brightened. "It isn't easy. It often means being alone, working late into the night, resisting the crushing pressure of social expectations to conform to their standards."

"I can't begin to imagine how hard that is," said Prospero. "But there is one thing I know. Pearls, diamonds, mountains, and all manner of beautiful pieces of nature are made over time by resisting or reshaping themselves in the face of such pressure. Prove your strength by not succumbing. Instead, resist or reshape."

A single tear dropped onto her cheek. He brushed it away with his fingertip.

"How do you know so much about women and the pressures of life?"

The smile he gave her was a sad one. "I think you know why. When I left England, I was young. Twenty-two for a man isn't the same as it is for a woman. We take a little longer to understand the world, to see the ebbs and flows as well as the patterns of people, including ourselves. I didn't understand what agreeing to that duel would mean, that it would cost me far more than I could pay. It nearly claimed my soul. I should have refused to meet with Jackson that morning. It would have still cost me my reputation, but better that than a man's life and my own sense of self."

"What truly happened that day to Jackson? Why did he try to force you to kill him?" Elise asked, her hand still clutching his shoulder. Prospero was surprised that, for once, talking about it didn't hurt as much as it used to. Talking to Elise was strangely easy.

"I refused to fire my pistol after his shot struck me in the arm. He charged me, insisting I take my shot, there was a mad pain in the man's eyes that I couldn't understand. But when I continued to refuse him, he grabbed my gun and aimed it at himself. I tried to stop him, but my hands were bloodied from clutching my wound. Something slipped. I don't know if it was his hand or mine, but the gun fired. Jackson's friend and second, a man named John Gower, reported that he believed I acted seemingly out of self-defense. I still fled England, in case he decided to change his mind."

"Now you've come back, do you think Gower will turn you in?"

Prospero shrugged. "I've run from the past long enough. If he wishes to, I will face the consequences of that day. But I think he will not try to cause me trouble. He defended me that day, even though he didn't wish to since he was Jackson's friend, not mine."

"Jackson seemed intent on harming himself. Had you not interfered, he would have been dead. You were trying to prevent that. It would be unfair to charge you with a crime you didn't commit."

"Life is rarely fair," he mused.

Elise made a scoffing sound, and for some reason that made him chuckle. "It may be unfair, but that doesn't mean we have to accept such things."

He stroked her cheek affectionately. "There is that fierce fire I was looking for. Never let go of it."

She was quiet a long moment. He was content to hold her against him and watch her thoughts play across her face.

"I want you to teach me everything about human courtship."

"Gladly."

"But I still want to explore your world, the world of men," she insisted.

He stroked a fingertip down the bridge of her nose. "I would gladly sneak you into my club after the museum, but that would be difficult given your appearance."

"Oh, I might have a way to get around that." She grinned at him, and he had a suspicion that Elise was going to get him in trouble. But if she was, he was going to enjoy every second of it.