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“A distant relation.”
“I see.”
Miss Fernsby did not at all looked pleased with his moniker. However, she did not comment on it, but said, “I want to know exactly what you want to accomplish from polishing your image.”
“A wife.”
Her eyes widened. “A wife?”
“Yes. A respectable wife.”
“I see. A respectable gentleman for a respectable lady.”
“Precisely, Miss Fernsby.”
“Then I shall begin by informing you that how you are sitting is considered vulgar.”
Colin arched a brow. “I beg your pardon.”
She stood and picked up a long pine-colored stick. Bloody hell. Clearly her rod of correction. Biting back a smile, he watched as her lush, petite form sauntered closer. She used her stick to tap the leg he had crossed above his knees.
“This is not the proper posture of a refined gentlemen. Dukes, earls, and marquesses do not sit in this indolent manner, especially in the presence of ladies.”
“Good God, you are entirely serious.”
“Of course I am,” she said primly. “A lady of quality would be appalled and clearly think of you as a brute with no manners should you call on her and sit in her drawing room in such a fashion. You should not sit with your legs crossed, unless gracefully at the ankles.”
Another tap at his foot, and Colin slowly lowered his foot and then crossed them at the ankles.
“Perfect,” she said with an approving nod.
“I am uncertain I could be impressed with a woman who would put so much stock on how I cross my legs.”
She lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “The proper posture will inform your lady that you take pride in being a true gentleman. To stretch out the legs while sitting announces conceit and pride, and to bend them up gives a timid and frightened air.”
This decorum business was more complex than he’d realized. “I gather you took that from one of your books?”
She smiled. “A direct quote.”
“Good God, do not say you’ve memorized passages.”
“Several.”
An odd sort of admiration filled Colin. “You have an impressive mind.”
“I would recommend that you read a System of Etiquette by John Trusler. Most informative.”
“I believe I shall,” he said with a slow smile. “You are remarkably well informed.”
“I enjoy reading.”
Curiosity shifted through him, and he realized he greatly enjoyed these lessons on respectability. Or rather, he enjoyed talking to this lady. “Only on matters of propriety?”
Startled silver eyes met his. “Are you enquiring after my reading tastes, Your Lordship?”
“I believe I am.”
She pursed her lips. “Why?”
