A Mortal Bane(74)

Still smiling, he asked, “Are you sure I could not give you a reason?”

The sensuous quality in smile and voice assured Magdalene that his question was not a threat, but a promise. She could not help smiling in reply and letting go of her little knife, surprised by a stirring of interest. He was a fine, strong man and not so old or brutal as William of Ypres. He would make a pleasant lover, possibly even a satisfying one, if his easy assurance of his own ability was not self-delusion. She was tempted to discover whether that was true, but as the thought came to her, a freezing fear followed. He wanted her, not a whore. Down that road lay the deaths of two men. She shook her head.

“Yes, I am certain.” The look that replaced his smile made her raise a hand placatingly. “Please do not be offended. I have no fault to find with you as a man; indeed, you are most appealing. You are clean and good to look at, with a sharp mind and a beautiful body. You desire me as a person rather than simply for your own body’s satisfaction with any whore, which is flattering, but for all of that, you cannot wake any answering desire in me.”

“I do not believe you.” He was smiling again.

[page]Magdalene sternly resisted the impulse to look away and wondered if he had read something in her face. She thought she had controlled her expression, but at this moment, despite reminding herself of danger, her last statement was a flat lie. She did not want to lie to Bell, but it was all the safety she could offer him and herself.

“Believe me or not,” she insisted, “what I say is true. As I told the bishop this morning, one sin that hardly ever touches any whore is the sin of lust. Some begin because they enjoy the work and then lose their taste for it. But whoring was never my choice. I assure you, now that I do not need to spread my legs or starve, I cannot be tempted.”

The smile disappeared. That last crudity disgusted him, as she intended.

“You must have given poor recompense for what you were paid when you did practice your trade,” Bell said nastily.

“Certainly I could never offer what Ella does.” Magdalene could not help laughing. “That is why so many men come back to her again and again, even though her conversation must leave much to be desired.” Then pride pricked her and before she thought, she added, “I had clients enough, however, so I suppose if my enthusiasm for futtering was less, I offered pleasures of other kinds.”

“But you will not offer them to me?”

“No.” A flat, unadorned statement.

Magdalene braced herself, but Bell was smiling again. He should have been more furious over that flat refusal than he had been when she first misunderstood his question about how much she charged, but he looked pleased. Magdalene did not understand his attitude at all. It was as if he wanted her to refuse him. But if that were so…no, she had no time to think out so complicated a notion. He had begun to laugh and she decided to temporize.

“Not now, anyway. You may say that you are already being accused of lying to protect us, but I have the feeling that you are a very poor liar. Now if you are asked whether you have enjoyed any of our favors and you say ‘no,’ there will be no shift of your eyes, no color in your face, no twitch of hand or shoulder to betray unease.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, grinning. “I will show even more signs of distress because of my unfulfilled desire whereas, having sated myself, I would show only disgust.”

Magdalene raised her brows. “You offer disgust of me as a temptation to satisfy your desire?”

“Not disgust of you. Of myself for having yielded to weakness.” He chuckled softly. “But I do not believe I would feel that. I am not at all sure it is a weakness to desire you. In fact, I think that takes courage near to foolhardiness.”