Maggie MacKeever by Quin Page B

nothing and no one? “Having never defiled a daughter, I cannot say how I would have felt. There might have been a certain piquant perversity involved. I was certain I had managed to indulge in every depravity at least once. Not it turns out I have not.”
    “You are a failure,” Kate said wryly. “If you bribe enough people, you may prevent word getting out. When I said Verena underestimated you, I meant you had no interest in Liliane.” She fell silent for a moment. “When you and I — were you and she — damn you, Quin, you know what I mean.”
    Damn him indeed for his curst reputation. “No. That is: yes, I do know what you mean; and no, I was not. Verena and I were history by the time I met you. At least, I thought we were. Verena, as it turned out, intended otherwise. When all else failed, she went to my father and told him I’d taken her virginity. You know the rest.”
    “Not even the half of it, I’ll wager.” Kate’s tone was less censorious than curious. “ Were you her first?”
    “Hardly. Nor was she mine.” Quin watched as she picked up a garment, folded it, placed it in the valise. Of course Kate was leaving. Why would she care to stay?
    “Where are you going?” he inquired.
    “I haven’t decided. Other than that it won’t be Yorkshire.” Kate moved away from the bed. “You said there would be a price for your assistance. I’ve been thinking what your price might be.”
     Quin watched her walk toward him. “I promised you’d be safe with me. It was not the case. Any debt you might owe me is canceled out.”
    “I pondered your rakehelly ways,” Kate continued, as if he had not spoken, “and wondered what you would ask of me, and if I would agree. You expressed a curiosity about my other lovers. I will tell you about them now.”
    “I would prefer you did not.”
    “There have been none.”
    Quin stared at her. “None?”
    Her eyes fixed on his face. “No one has touched me since you last touched me. I wish very much you would touch me now.”
    She stood so close Quin could have easily reached out and touched her. He told himself he must not. Quin had touched a thousand women. Kate had touched only him.
    Ah, but he was a sinner, and bound for damnation. Quin raised one hand and gently traced the outline of her face.
    Kate turned her cheek into his palm. “You broke my heart.”
    Quin raised his other hand and brushed back a loose tendril of her hair. “You badly damaged mine.”
     “Then perhaps we are even.” Kate straightened her shoulders. “About that price—”
    Quin set her away from him. “This is madness. You can’t still want me, Kate.”
    She smiled at him. “Oh, but I do.”
    Lord Quinton was not in the habit of self-denial, or considering what was best for another person. He was uncertain if he had ever before attempted to put another’s needs above his own. Still, it was obvious Kate did not grasp the enormity of his iniquities, else she would not be offering herself to him.
    He must disabuse her of her delusions. “I am a bad man.”
    “I know you are.”
    “Women tend to think they may redeem me.”
    “Not I.”
    Quin folded his arms so he could not crush her to him. “You believe me beyond redemption, then?”
    Kate shrugged, and the nightdress slipped off one slender shoulder. “I believe each man must redeem himself. Providing he is so inclined. On the other hand, I hear the pathway to perdition can prove surprisingly pleasant. I have been lonely, Quin.”
    How could he refuse her? Quin had been lonely, too. Furthermore, he owed Kate a debt, or she owed him one, or they were in each other’s debt for events that had transpired today and yesterday and seventeen years ago— He was a little muddled as to who owed what to whom.
    Quin lifted Kate into his arms and carried her across the room. He placed her on the bed and paused, allowing her this last opportunity to change her mind. She drew her nightdress up over her head and dropped it on the