Page 14 of Dangerous

His black brows arched.

“It is beyond irksome to be the only person in the room who is ignorant, my lord.”

Exley took a sip of champagne while Mia struggled to regain her temper. The precious seconds were slipping past and she did not have time for this foolishness. Tonight was all she had before—

“The reason your guests are avoiding me, and your brother is desperate to spirit you away, is because almost everyone here believes I hurled my first wife from the roof of my house. They are not sure how I disposed of my second wife, as her body was never found.” His eyes were no longer hooded, but wide open, avid to gauge the result of his shocking disclosure.

“Almost all of them? What do the rest of them believe?”

Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise?

Mia waved her hand. “Never mind. I do not care what any of them think, to be perfectly honest. Most people are fools who will believe whatever they want to believe, regardless of the truth.” She gave him a hard look. “I know this from personal experience. What does interest me is why you are here tonight. I will speak plainly, my lord. I am looking for a husband—although perhaps not with as much eagerness and diligence as my father. I have not been happy with the men my father has put before me—until tonight.”

He took another sip of champagne.

Mia clenched the cut-crystal glass so tightly it hurt. The silence stretched and frustration mingled with despair in her breast. She told herself she didn’t care. She told herself—

“I’m listening, my lady.”

She took a deep breath. “My father has run out of patience, my lord, which means I have run out of time. I am not seeking a love match. I want a husband who will grant me a certain degree of personal liberty, a man who will be satisfied with separate lives.” Mia stopped and watched him like a hawk. People’s faces always disclosed the most immediately after they’d heard something interesting or surprising. The more time they had to think about it, the more time they had to mask their true feelings.

Exley finished the remainder of his drink, set the empty glass on the small table, and adjusted one of his cuffs before turning to her, his expression unchanged.

Mia snorted. She would have learned just as much, if not more, if she’d watched his foot.

“I find I cannot gauge your reaction. Tell me, Lord Exley, do you find my disclosure surprising, unappealing, intriguing?”

He stared at the dance floor. “Surprising? No, I would not say surprising. Who does not like to have their way, man or woman? Unappealing? Well, it depends on what you get up to while you are going your own way. If you have plans to turn my house into a distillery or brothel, I might have something to say to that. Intriguing?” He leaned back, stretched out his elegantly clad legs, and turned, giving her a direct look. “Very.”

Mia’s entire body tingled at the heat that flared in his cold eyes. Her carefully constructed sentences came apart in her head, and it was a struggle to gather them back together. “My plans do not include distilleries, bawdy houses, or anything unusual,” she lied. “It is simple, really. I’m not a girl and I chafe under the harsh restrictions my father imposes on me. I merely wish to be my own mistress. I expect, of course, to defer to my husband’s authority in important matters, but I would prefer to live a separate existence in the country as I do not care for London. In short, sir, I would like a marriage without emotional entanglement.”

The marquess’s eyebrows, his only expressive feature, crept up his forehead, as if he had a difficult time imagining something as foreign as an emotion—not to mention becoming entangled by one.

They took each other’s measure before she broke the silence. “What of you, my lord? Why do you wish to marry? It does not sound as if your two experiences with marriage were felicitous.” Mia did not mean to be cruel, but she needed to know what he wanted and why he was here tonight—a place he clearly wished not to be.

“I need an heir.” His pupils flared until his eyes were almost black, as if he were imagining the process of getting an heir. With her.

Heat washed over her. He’d looked sinful with pale eyes. With dark eyes, he became almost satanic. She stared down at her clenched hands and nodded. “Your property is entailed.”

“Yes.”

She looked up at his clipped response and saw nothing of the heat that had scorched her only a moment before.

“My previous heir—a distant cousin—managed to get himself killed by Napoleon, leaving me with his younger brother, a man who is both a drunkard and a fool. He will beggar the House of de Courtney in his lifetime.” He shrugged, as if that was all there was to say on the matter. He surveyed the dancers with the same lack of interest he seemed to show everything. But Mia knew it for what it was: a pose. He would not be at this ball enduring the snubs of hundreds if he wasn’t interested.

Could he be counted on to leave her in the country after he bedded her a few times? How vigilant would he be ensuring she fulfilled her part of the bargain? It was a risk—a gamble. Viscount Maugham would be a more practical choice, but there was just something about the lone, enigmatic man beside her....

Mia studied his starkly beautiful profile. Would she be able to use him to get what she wanted? Something fluttered in her at the thought of manipulating him so coldly—her conscience? She shrugged it away. Men had no qualms about using women, sacrificing them for their own desires, like pieces on a chessboard. Based on the marquess’s callous attitude toward his daughters, he was no different. Her eyes lingered on his unyielding features. No, he would not hesitate to use her for his purposes.

He turned to her and Mia lowered her eyes under his probing look. His piercing intelligence was yet another danger. Again she shrugged away the concern. He might be smart, but she was smarter. He could look and wonder, but she would make sure he found nothing. She would need to manage him carefully, but she had years of experience handling a dangerous man.

“I am past the prime age to bear children. Does that not concern you?” she finally asked.

“I am aware of your age.”

“My father will not wait patiently for an extended courtship.”

He did not smile or laugh, but, for some reason, Mia knew the comment amused him. She saw her brother’s red head bobbing through the crowd toward them.