The Last Days of a Rake

held to his word if he offered marriage.
    Wisely—or unwisely?—he held his tongue.
    She was confused and torn. He could see it, and felt the indecision emanating from her in waves like heat reflected from a pane of glass in the sun. He let the silence stretch, for he needed the tension to build between them, so he could lead her one more step down the path toward his goal rather than toward hers. If Susan made one step down his path, she would become invested in the outcome as much as he, even if she felt it would have a different end than the one he anticipated. If she was wise, she would hold fast on her own road to marriage and respectability.
    But she fancied herself in love, or perhaps she really did love him. Who can know a woman’s heart? There is so little to tell between the appearance and the truth of love, that few men can tell the difference.
    She stepped toward him again, put her hands on his shoulders and said, “Edgar, do you truly care for me?”
    “Can’t you tell?” he said, pouring all the trembling yearning in his body into his tone. “Susan, how could I not? You’re the only woman I think of, day in and day out!” Not one word was a lie.
    “What do you want from me?” she asked, her gaze clouded with confusion.
    So far, he had been completely truthful, but he didn’t think his goal could be accomplished by maintaining that honesty. He watched her eyes. They narrowed, and, for the first time, he realized she was perhaps a better judge of character than he had given her credit for being. If that was the case, he had better be convincing if he planned to win his bet. “I want to be sure, before we commit ourselves to a lifetime together.”
    “Sure of what?”
    He paused and looked deep into her eyes. “Susan, my dearest girl, I want to be sure of our love.” He almost had her, he could feel it. Love was the bait, marriage the goal, for her. She was on the line, but now he had to set the hook. “If only…” He paused and shook his head, looking away, assuming an anguished expression.
    “‘If only’ what?” She rubbed her hands up his arms and touched his cheek, the satin of her glove smooth on his skin. “Speak to me, Edgar. You can tell me anything, ask me anything!”
    “If only I knew for sure! Kissing you like that…I would almost swear we were meant to be together for eternity, but…” Again, the phrase left dangling.
    She hugged him and laid her face against his chest. “I can hear your heart beating,” she whispered. “Edgar, listen to me. I’m sure. I have never felt like this before. The way you talk to me, the things we have in common, the times we are silent…it is all so…so delicious.”
    He put his arms around her and let his hands slide down, almost to the provocative curve of her back as it sloped to her bottom. His breathing rate was increasing, his imagination running away with him as he thought of what he sought from her: Surrender. “Susan, I care for you a great deal, but I will not saddle you with my troubled self for a lifetime without being sure,” he murmured, his voice breaking artfully in just the right spot. “I’m not good enough for you, my dear, not nearly good enough for such an angel as yourself.” It was an inspired and cunning touch, for what girl could resist such an appeal to her valiant desire to make a man over into her own hero? “I drink too much wine, sweet girl, and my friends are disgraceful.” He shook his head, muttering “Shocking!” under his breath.
    She responded perfectly. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears as they trembled on her lashes, and her lip quivered. “You’re a good man, Edgar. I will not listen to you disparage yourself in that manner. I believe in you, and know you can reform if you but try. All those terrible friends would fall away from you if you married, so the temptation would disappear.”
    He pushed away from her and turned his back, repressing a shudder at the life she was holding out to him as a shining hope. His friends gone? No gambling houses nor deep drinking? No more tupping the maids? Hell on earth. Dull, plodding, merciless boredom. He had to remember that was not about to happen. He sighed, letting his shoulders sag. “If only I could believe that.”
    After a moment of silence, she circled him and nudged herself into his embrace again, looked up into his eyes and softly said, “What can I do to convince you we should be together forever?”
    “I don’t know!” he