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“Good sized, though not as large as other peers’.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Do you have many servants?”
Matthew blew out a breath trying to determine the best answer for that question. “The estates are made to each have about twenty servants and fewer than ten in town.”
He looked over to see her frown in concentration. She was the daughter of a banker and perhaps she’d never imagined managing such a large household. He would expect her to be able to assist him in hi
ring the servants. Jennette would know exactly what he needed to run several estates, which made her perfectly suited to marry a future duke. Nicholas would treat her well.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?
Damned lust.
Miss Marston had all the qualifications he needed for a wife. And anything she didn’t know she could learn from either him or a friend. He sighed as they reached the dying rose garden. If only he felt a spark of attraction for her. Not that it mattered. She was pretty enough. He’d manage to do his duty and produce an heir.
Not that the feelings would be the same as with Jennette—the rush of excitement that raced up his limbs when she was near.
As they turned the corner, the object of his incessant desire sat on a bench with a sketch pad on her lap and a charcoal stick in her hands. She looked up as they approached. He couldn’t determine the flash that sparkled in her blue eyes. At first, he thought she appeared quite displeased but then her full lips tilted upward. Quickly she shuffled the papers on her lap.
“Miss Marston and Lord Blackburn, what a pleasant surprise,” she said. Hastily she placed a blank page in front of her drawing.
“Oh Lady Jennette, are you sketching?” Miss Marston asked quickly. “I love to draw but am horrid at it. I have heard you have quite the artistic talent.”
“Greatly exaggerated, I’m certain.”
Matthew doubted that. He’d also heard of her talent but had never seen any of her work. “Might we take a look at what you’ve been drawing?”
Her cheeks tinted pink. “No. It’s not completed and I never show anyone my work until I’m finished.”
“Please,” Miss Marston begged prettily.
“No,” Jennette replied in a harsher tone. “If you would like I could sketch you both.”
Matthew cleared his throat and smiled. “I think you are being a bit premature.”
“Oh?” she said with a devious grin.
God, he wanted to kiss that grin off her face. “But a drawing of Miss Marston would be lovely.”
“Really!” Miss Marston exclaimed.
“I would be happy to do so.” Jennette picked up her pad and looked around. “I think you would look best by the holly bush over there,” she said, pointing to a small bench by the bush.
Miss Marston raced to the bench, untied her bonnet, and let it fall to her back. Tendrils of blond hair whipped around her face. “How is this?”
“Perfect,” Matthew said before Jennette could refuse her.
“Why don’t you go over there?” Jennette said as she inclined her head to another bench.
“I prefer to be here,” he whispered, “watching you.”
Her hands shook as she picked up her charcoal stick and glanced over at Miss Marston. Keeping her voice low, she said, “I must apologize.”
“Indeed?”
“I should never have entered your room last night.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. Although, I suppose I should have been more polite and invited you to stay.”
