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“Which only goes to show how asinine most of this is. The point I was trying to make, however, is that if I met a protégée of our dear Mrs. Seeton—if that is indeed her real name—”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
James thought about that for a moment. Must have been all those years as a spy. All he said, however, was, “I haven’t the foggiest. But as I was saying, if I met one of her protégées, I would run screaming in the oth
er direction.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Elizabeth said, with a hint of a mischievous smile, “You didn’t run from me.”
James’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
Her smiled widened, and she looked almost feline in her pleasure at having unnerved him. “Didn’t you read the edict about practicing the edicts?” She leaned forward to peer into the pages of HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS, through which he was now rifling, looking for the aforementioned edict. “I think it’s number seventeen,” she added.
He stared at her in disbelief for a full ten seconds before asking, “You practiced on me?”
“It sounds rather cold-blooded, I know, and I did have a twinge or two of guilt about it, but I really didn’t have any choice. After all, if not you, who?”
“Who, indeed,” James muttered, not precisely certain why he was irritated. It wasn’t because she’d been practicing upon him; that was rather amusing, actually. Rather, he thought it might be that he hadn’t realized she’d been practicing upon him.
For a man who prided himself on his instinct and perception, that was rather galling, indeed.
“I shan’t do it any longer,” she promised. “It was probably rather unfair of me.”
He set to pacing, tapping his finger against his jaw as he tried to decide how best to turn this situation to his advantage.
“James?”
Aha! He whipped around in a blur of motion, his eyes lit with the thrill of a new idea. “Who were you practicing for?”
“I don’t understand.”
He sat down across from her and let his forearms rest on his thighs as he leaned in. Earlier that morning he’d sworn to himself that he would rid the look of desperation from her eyes. In all truth, that look wasn’t there now, but he knew it would return just as soon as she remembered her three hungry siblings at home. And now he’d found a way to help her and have a brilliant time doing it.
He was going to tutor her. She wanted to snare some unsuspecting man into marriage—well, no one could know more about such traps than the Marquis of Riverdale. He’d had every trick sprung on him, from giggling debutantes following him into dark corners, to shockingly explicit love letters, to naked widows showing up in his bed.
It seemed to stand to reason that if he’d learned so well how to avoid marriage, he ought to be able to apply his knowledge in the opposite direction. With a little work, Elizabeth ought to be able to catch any man in the land.
It was that bit—the “work” part of it—that had his pulse quickening, and certain less-mentionable parts of his anatomy thickening. For any tutoring lesson would have to involve at least a cursory examination of the amorous arts. Nothing, of course, that would compromise the girl, but—
“Mr. Siddons? James?”
He looked up, aware that he’d been woolgathering. Good God, but she had the face of an angel. He found it nearly impossible to believe she thought she needed help in finding a husband. But she did think it, and that gave him the most splendid opportunity.…
“When you were practicing on me,” he asked in a low, focused voice, “who was your ultimate goal?”
“You mean to marry?”
“Yes.”
She blinked and her mouth moved slightly before she said, “I—I don’t know, actually. I hadn’t gotten quite that far in my thinking. I was merely hoping to attend one of Lady Danbury’s gatherings. It seemed as good a place as any to find an eligible gentleman.”
“Has she one scheduled soon?”
“A gathering? Yes. It is to be Saturday, I believe. A small garden party.”
James sat back. Damn. His aunt hadn’t told him she was expecting company. If any of her guests were acquaintances of his, he’d have to make himself very scarce very fast. The last thing he needed was some London dandy slapping him on the back in front of Elizabeth and calling him Riverdale.
“I don’t believe anyone is planning to stay the night, however,” she added.
