Enough was enough. Just being around Worthington was turning her mind into a bowl of jelly. The landlord and his daughter left, leaving the door slightly open. She met Worthington’s steady gaze. She would probably never see him again and might as well talk about what she wanted to. “I do not mind discussing politics, though you should know that I’m a Whig.”
Chapter Two
That was certainly throwing down the gauntlet. Matt had a feeling this was going to become an interesting conversation. If only he could either remember or discover who she was. It would be even better. “My party as well. On the left side.”
The lady’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Then we should have much to discuss . . .”
During the meal and afterward, their conversation ranged over politics, philosophy, and estate management. In fact, any topic that came into their heads, except the weather. Hours later they had not even had to search for subject matter to discuss. He had not had such an interesting conversation in months, maybe years, and never with a woman. She was as well or better informed than any man he had ever met. He’d never been so taken by a lady. Suddenly Matt wanted to know everything about her.
“Are you an adherent of Wollstonecraft?” she asked.
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Completely. I find her views on the rights of women interesting in the extreme, and I am pleased to see that the numbers of Wollstonecraft and Bentham followers have grown in political circles.”
A far-off expression crossed the lady’s face. “I’ve not been in London much of late, though I do keep up a lively correspondence with my friends.”
Perhaps this was his opportunity. “Do your friends hold the same ideas as you do?”
“Most of them.” A note of caution entered her tone.
“We might know some of the same people.”
“Have you joined the group attempting to help the war veterans?”
Drat it all. That hadn’t worked. “I have.”
They discussed some of the proposals being batted around. She was certainly knowledgeable. He peered at the large armchair near the fireplace. A book with a marbled cloth cover lay on the seat. “Is that one of the Minerva romances you have there?”
“Yes, it is.” She lifted her chin a little. “I find them excessively diverting.”
Based on their conversation, no one could accuse her of muddling her mind with romances. She was as well informed as any bluestocking, but she didn’t have the acerbic tone of one. “My stepmother reads them. Although, she tries to hide them from my sisters.” Matt grinned. “I’m not sure she always succeeds.”
A smile played around her lips, and she tilted her head a little to the side. Much like an inquisitive bird. “And you, my lord?”
He wondered, not for the first time this evening, what it would be like to kiss those lips. To tug lightly with his teeth on her full lower lip. She was beautiful, intelligent, and he had to answer her question. Damn, now he wished he had read the books. “Not yet.”
“You might enjoy them, some gentlemen do.”
“On your recommendation, I shall most definitely read at least one.”
She colored prettily, as if pleased that she had made a potential convert.
Before he knew it, the clock struck half-six.
He came to his feet as she rose. “I must tidy up for dinner.”
“Of course. I’ll meet you here shortly.”
She left the room, and he poured a brandy from the decanter on the sideboard. Never in all his years had he been as drawn to a woman like he was to his mystery lady. They agreed on almost everything, and when they disagreed, she stated her opinions clearly and intelligently.
Yet, how the devil was he to discover her name and direction? The only idea he could come up with was to offer to escort her to her home to-morrow, provided the weather cleared. But what if she refused? He could follow her. He tossed off the brandy. Somehow, some way, Matt was determined to court her.
Grace shut the door of her chamber behind her and leaned against it. For years Matt Worthington had been nothing more than an infatuation, but now, he was rapidly becoming so much more. It had been years since she had allowed herself to feel angry at the hand fate had dealt her. Yet, now, now she could do something just for herself. She would not leave here, leave him without knowing what it would be like to know joy with a man.
“What if someone finds out? Everything you’ve worked for will be for naught?”Her conscience popped up, just when Grace had thought it had given up.
Even with her family around, there were still times when she was so lonely she thought she’d die of it. Not being able to marry was the one thing she had never got over. “Am I to have no joy of my own? I just want one night. One night to last me the rest of my life, that’s all I’m asking.”
“Wanton!”
