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“It is out and about that you are seeking a wife this season,” Mina said as he entered the drawing room, and all without looking up from the scandal sheet she perused. “The fact that they mention that this lady might be lucky or unlucky says that society is still undecided about you. Which is very good.”
“Why is that good?” he murmured.
Mina closed her eyes briefly, not liking how her belly fluttered at the warm sensuality of his voice.
“It means they can still be convinced you are a proper and respectable catch, and the maters will happily toss their daughters into your path for you to catch them.”
He made a noncommittal sound, and she glanced up to see that he had folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the edge of the window overlooking that small side garden. And he was staring at her, his expression inscrutable. Today he had donned a beautifully tailored jacket and trousers with a blue brocade waistcoat, patterned with chough and sets of fifteen bezants in an upside-down pyramid woven in shades of blue within the fabric. Mina was well aware that the earl’s title was not based in Cornwall, and that the Cornish coat of arms were normally in black and white and not shades of blue, but it was a fine conceit and most of the ton would not realize it indicated his love of his former county.
“Are we discussing today about what my lady wife might admire in me?”
“Not might. A guarantee.”
“It is astonishing that all ladies might esteem the same qualities,” he said with a mocking twist of his mouth. “Are there no original ideas or thoughts or desires? It seems to me any damn lady could be my future wife, for all to think and expect the same thing from a man.”
It shocked Mina how much she liked the earl, simply because he did not conform to the very mold she was trying to shape him into. A collective society, even if a small one like her village, had judged her and found her irredeemable. There had not been a single person from there to stand up for her, because they had all ruthlessly upheld the same values. It was the same she had found of London and high society. Yet here was this man, so wonderfully different. A man who seemed to love his family with his entire heart and would never hurt or eschew them for any behavior the ton thought wrong.
So unlike her own family. The swift pain in her chest had her taking a deep breath. “A lady desires a man with good sense and polite manners. When you converse with a lady, your tone of voice, choice of language, topic of conversation, all should be modest and respectful. Your lady partner will esteem you greater for it.”
A dark touch of humor entered his eyes, as if to say his experience with the fairer sex taught him differently. “Truly? A polite husband is all the rage?”
“Yes.”
Humor deepened the blue of his eyes. “Then I shall be very careful with my ‘damns’.”
For a wild moment she thought there was no lesson that could tame the man before her. He would forever be a rogue. He flirted with her at every opportunity, and she hated how much it thrilled her. As if he sensed the wicked turn in her thoughts, he pushed away from the window and prowled over to sit in an armchair.
“Is that what you are looking for in a husband, Miss Fernsby, a man with polite manners?”
Those eyes as they landed on her seemed to dissect every nuance of her expression.
“I am not looking for a husband at all,” she replied politely.
“A lover then?”
She gasped, her heart stuttering.
“Was that impolite of me to ask?”
“More scandalous!”
He offered a smile that was entirely too charming. “Forgive me, Miss Fernsby. I was simply curious about you.”
Mina wanted to use her notebook to smack the earl. How dare he rattle her constitution which was supposed to be unrattled. She was the sort of lady who did not swoon, had a stiff upper lip, did not surrender to temptation or the seductive wiles of rakes or libertines. Mina was a professional, but this dratted man in as little as two weeks had her admiring his handsome exterior much of the time and even tempted her to smile at his outrageous charm by claiming to be curious about her. Which gentleman of her acquaintance had ever expressed interest in her and with such charming sincerity?
“And that curiosity extends to you wanting to know who warms my bed?”
Surprise at her bluntness flared his beautiful eyes wide. “And if I am?”
“A rake would not be welcome,” she said with a tight smile. “Ever.”
“Thank God I am not a rake,” he said with a charming earnestness, placing a hand over his heart.
The damn rogue. “If you are looking for an invitation to my bed, Lord Celdon, it will not be forthcoming.”
His handsome face relaxed with his low laughter. “You are an interesting woman.”
No…this would not do.
