“Oh? And I suppose you think a woman could take over that mantle?”
Jo cleared her throat before Belle could reply. “I doubt the world is ruled by either man or woman but rather by mankind, although men do have a distinct advantage as they are given certain liberties.”
“Well, since I am a self-proclaimed spinster, I daresay those advantages and liberties befall me, as well,” Belle responded.
Westfield’s agitated tone snapped through the air. “Has this self-proclaimed spinsterhood made you less of a lady, then?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you are not at liberty to have liberties.”
Belle wanted to kick Westfield for his boorish ways. How could a man so cheerful and affable so quickly become austere and stuffy? It defied explanation.
She shot him a heated glare. “Well, as that is your opinion, it is a good thing that my life is no concern of yours.”
“You are Evelyn’s friend and your actions reflect back on her, so itismy concern.”
“That is just ridiculous! Evelyn is not even your concern now, is she? Being Grey’s wife and all,” Belle pointed out. “What a bore you are, Westfield. Andladiesdo not like bores.”
“By your own account, you are no longer intending to behave as a true lady ought, so I do not care what you think I am.”
Belle gasped.
The rotten beast!
“Simon!” Evelyn chastised. “You forget your manners! That is my friend you are being rude to.”
Westfield’s cheeks warmed under his sister’s stern regard. It was the first time Belle had heard Evelyn take such a stern voice with her brother.
“My apologies, Lady Belle,” he muttered almost too low for her to hear.
Belle snorted.
“Perhaps you should entertain your guest in the study, my dear?” Josephine suggested to her husband who nodded in assent.
Belle felt the singe of Westfield’s dark gaze on her as he departed, but she refused to look his way. Why she had ever thought him a delicious specimen was beyond her. Best to stay away from him altogether.
Hopefully, he’d do the same.
Simon was fuming by the time he stalked into St. Aldwyn’s wood-paneled study. He could not remember a time when a woman so completely vexed him to the point of blind fury.
Boorish? He most certainly was not a bore. And who the hell was she to say otherwise? Granted, he possessed certain views, like that a lady should be sheltered and cared for, for one, but that hardly constituted that he had boorish tendencies.
Never had he been anything but a gentleman.
Lady Belle’s implication that she and James Shaw may not have marriage on their minds in their flirtation was outlandish and preposterous. And it had set his blood to boil.
She was outspoken, often dressed as no lady ought to and a brazen flirt. In fact, she was plain trouble—trouble with a dash of exquisite beauty—which was not the sort of woman he favored at all.
Hell, what insanity was this? He was a grown man and he was moping about his friend’s study all because she had called him a bore. He began listing her myriad of flaws in an attempt to soothe his anger. Impetuous, yes, she was certainly that, reckless, bold, completely disrespectful of a gentleman’s station…and still the most fascinating being he had ever set eyes on. The last was certainly her largest flaw.
Dammit.
“That woman will drive me to madness, yet.”
“I take that to mean that you are not aware you are already being plagued with madness.”
Simon shot his friend a glare. St. Aldwyn only lifted an inquiring brow before continuing. “In my experience, a woman does not drive a man to madness unless she has him hooked to an unseen chain. Are you perhaps hooked?”
