Pride and Pleasure
There were some days when Eliza actually enjoyed riding through Hyde Park, despite the torturously slow pace of the congestion and the need for endless smiling that pained her cheeks. Today was one of those good days. The soft breeze and gentle warmth of the sun were refreshing, and the need to prepare quick and appropriate responses to greetings kept her thoughts free of Jasper.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself today, Miss Martin,” the Earl of Montague said from his seat beside her. He’d arrived for their agreed-upon outing in a new and clearly expensive curricle. When he first began pursuing her in earnest, she’d wondered why a peer of seemingly substantial wealth would show such dogged interest in her of all people. Then she learned he maintained the appearance of solvency through prudence—and luck—at the gaming tables. It was a clever ruse and one few bothered to delve into.
She looked at him with a frown, slightly chagrined by her inability to navigate the social waters without bumping into things. “Is it so obvious that I usually do not?”
“Not so obvious, no,” he said, while deftly handling the ribbons. He maneuvered through the multitude of conveyances on South Carriage Drive with admirable skill. “But I’ve taken to paying close attention to you, Miss Martin. And I collect that you have little interest in Society as a whole.”
“To put it bluntly, my lord.”
Montague grinned, his teeth white despite the shadow cast by the brim of his hat. Of all her suitors, she would say he was the most attractive. His dark hair was so thick and glossy she thought it might feel like silk if she touched it, and his eyes were extremely expressive. Similar in color to Jasper’s, but nowise near as shuttered.
“I understand,” he went on, “that a woman loses a measure of freedom when she takes a husband.”
“Most vexing, to be sure.”
“And I appreciate your reticence. You see, I’ve come to the delayed understanding that people in general perplex you.”
Eliza’s brows rose. “You have?”
“I realize now I was going about this business of courting you all wrong. Most women want wooing—flowers and tokens of affection, focused attention, and the like.”
“The flowers you send weekly are lovely,” she said automatically, although she thought it a shame for such beautiful living things to be cut away from their source of nourishment.
“I’m gratified you think so. But I believe you wouldn’t miss them if I ceased making the gesture. You would not experience hurt feelings or attribute emotional reasons to my actions based on conjecture.”
He offered a genuine smile, and she stared, seeing a charm in it she’d missed previously. It was an aftereffect of Jasper that she was now overly attentive to other males. She wanted to discern why the thief-taker affected her so strongly.
“I am sorely inept at interpreting such things,” she agreed, adjusting the angle of her parasol to better shield her face. The slightest touch of sun on her nose would result in more freckles.
“No, you are perfectly reasoned,” his lordship argued. “And that’s where I erred. I was pandering to your softer nature, when I should have been appealing to your intellect. Therefore, I will not insult your intelligence any further. I’m in need of your fortune, Miss Martin.”
Intrigued, she shifted on the seat to better study him. “A novel approach, I must say. Quite bold.”
His grin held shades of triumph. “And you like it. For the first time in our acquaintance, I feel as if I have your attention in its entirety.”
“The best approach to you is so obvious,” the earl continued, “that I’m quite put out by my failure to see it before. Whether or not I have elevated feelings for you isn’t of enough value to you to equal what you believe you will lose. In the simplest of terms, I haven’t shown you that I am a good investment.”
Captured by the uniqueness of the conversation, Eliza wished they were not in public so she could fully enjoy the surprise without interruption. “Please, go on.”
“First and foremost, the Montague lands are vast and with proper care would yield a tidy return.”
“Why isn’t the estate supporting you now?”
“My father suffered from a loose hand with coin, an untrustworthy steward, and a greedy mistress. I assure you, however, I am not my father.”
“Perhaps not, but you are a gamester, my lord. You have managed to do well enough with your winnings.” She gestured at his fashionable equipage. “But luck at the tables is a fickle thing, and certainly you would eventually contract mistresses of your own. Perhaps you will become smitten by a paramour who is also afflicted with avarice. I would not take kindly to destitution due to gambling or the waste of my funds on another woman who was enjoying the companionship of my husband. I expect to own the things I pay for, and I rarely lend them out.”
“Ah, so,” he said softly, with another warm glance in her direction. “You know, Miss Martin, the more I know of you, the more taken I am.”
“Today, I find myself enjoying your company as well. But forgive me, my lord, I have no desire to marry you.”
“There are other benefits.” Outwardly, nothing changed, but Eliza sensed a new weight of expectation, as if he were debating whether or not to continue with his thought. “Aside from financial considerations, there are other ways in which a man and his wife reach an accord. I want to assure you, you would not find married life to be distasteful. I’ve no wish for disharmony in my home. I would make every effort to see that you were satisfied in sharing your life with me.”
For a moment, she was perplexed by his statement. Did they not have an accord now? Then she recalled the conversation she’d had with Melville and Jasper about the things women wanted from men. Which led her to thinking about the things a peer would want from a woman….
“Are you referring to procreation, my lord?”
Montague visibly jolted. Staring straight ahead, he seemed unable to respond. And then he laughed. It was a full, open-throated sound that drew stares from every quarter. “No wonder you find the usual discourse less than interesting. Speaking one’s mind is much more stimulating.”
Eliza opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again as her attention was snared by a familiar shade of blue velvet. Montague’s carriage continued to move forward, but Eliza’s eyes remained riveted to Jasper, who sat astride a black steed just off the Row, watching her with the fiercely intense stare that set butterflies to flight in her stomach. Her response was so strong, it was unnerving. Her palms grew damp, conveying a heat that had nothing to do with the weather. It was rather like spotting a crouched panther in the brush, its rapacious gaze following the prey it intended to pounce upon at any moment.
Without conscious prompting, she straightened in her seat and her hand lifted to the brim of her simple straw hat.
Jasper was such a compelling figure, even the dappled light afforded by an overhanging tree could not diminish his vibrancy. A thrill of awareness moved through her, as did a strong appreciation for the sight of him. How long had he been there? She could have sworn he hadn’t been under that tree mere seconds before.
The earl spoke, drawing her thoughts back to him.
She tore her gaze from Jasper. “I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“I have a better idea. I will find you a more suitable candidate.”
Montague’s mouth curved. “You intend to play matchmaker?”
“In a fashion.” Eliza was keenly aware of Jasper’s gaze following her.
“Miss Martin, I want to be clear about my intentions. I’ve decided you will suit me best of all. I will not be easily dissuaded from my aim of proving I can complement you as well.”
“As you wish.” She sighed. “Please do not make a nuisance of yourself in the effort, Lord Montague. You’ve always been one of the more agreeable of my suitors. I should like you to stay that way, if possible.”
Montague laughed again and looked at her with sparkling eyes. “You are a delightful surprise. I wish I’d been wiser earlier in the Season.”
Eliza looked behind her to where Jasper had been.
He was gone, leaving behind a marked absence.
As Jasper urged his mount away from South Carriage Drive toward the adjacent Rotten Row, the member of his crew assigned to watching Eliza also turned with him.
“She has an eye for you,” Aaron White said, gesturing at another crew member further up the Drive who would continue surveillance.
Jasper nodded. He had come without thought. It wasn’t until he’d caught sight of Eliza that he realized why. A vague notion had played in his mind—a budding desire to see her glorious hair in sunlight—and somehow it led him here. Ridiculously sentimental. Completely out of character. Her time in his schedule had passed, and he had other matters to attend to.
“Of course,” Aaron continued, “you made certain she saw you.”
Jasper could shine in a crowd or hide among it in the space of a breath merely by making miniscule changes in his deportment and posture. He’d been an unnoticed observer until Montague said something to Eliza that snared her attention completely. Jasper had wanted to steal her regard, and he’d done so. “It’s best that she not seem too taken with any of her other suitors. Defeats the effectiveness of my plan to secure her safety.”
“And your pronounced interest in her has nothing to do with it,” Aaron teased, holding his reins loosely in one hand while the other rested atop his thigh. He was a young lad, short and stocky, a hard worker with three small mouths to feed. For that reason, Jasper kept him away from the more hazardous assignments. Watching out for Eliza was perfect.
“Her attractiveness makes the job more agreeable.” That was all Jasper intended to say on the matter.
Aaron’s gaze followed Montague. “The earl appears to agree. He seems genuinely taken with her.”
The sound of Montague’s recent laughter lingered in Jasper’s mind, and his gloved grip tightened on his reins. “She would be miserable with him. He cares for nothing so much as his own self-interest. I’m doing her a favor.”
“I am not ruining her. She decided long ago she would never wed, and she reiterated that intention to me only hours ago.”
“And you’ll show her the joys of shagging, so she doesn’t die ignorant? Another favor? By God, Bond, you’re damn near saintly in your generosity.”
Jasper shot the younger man a fulminating glare.
Aaron raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “You’re a shrewd businessman above all. Makes me right curious as to why you plan to stop short of the big prize. Since you’re taking her to bed, why not also take her to wife? Add her fortune to the other benefits of the association.”
“Wanting and wedding are two very different things. She would be equally miserable with me. I’ve no notion of how to keep a woman happy outside of the bedroom.”
“Don’t let her out of bed. Problem solved.”
“I am not amused.”
“Merely a suggestion.” Aaron grinned. “Not sure why I mentioned it, considering I benefit from your remaining just as you are now. If you became obscenely wealthy, you wouldn’t work so hard, and I would have fewer opportunities to earn my wages.”
Jasper’s gaze followed Eliza until Montague’s equipage was lost in the crowd. Out of sight, out of mind. He hoped. He withdrew his pocket watch and checked the time. Eliza would return home shortly and begin preparations for the evening.
How would she appear when dressed formally? Not that she would put any effort into it, which he found refreshing. Some women spent excessive amounts of time on their exteriors. Eliza’s most attractive qualities weren’t the most obvious ones. The hints of stronger passions were so subtle, even she was not aware of them. She was of the introspective sort, quietly curious and sharply intelligent.
Jasper, by contrast, preferred a more hectic pace of living. He kept his hours filled from the time he awoke until he couldn’t fight sleep a moment longer. Such preoccupation afforded less time to ruminate on the thorn wedged in his side. Eliza both helped and hindered in that regard. When he was with her, he was so mindful of her there was no room for awareness of anything else. And that was a problem. He could not afford to lose his focus now. Not when he was so close to achieving his aims.
He growled and tugged his hat lower on his brow, hating to be in public while so disconcerted. Over a spinster who thought he was too handsome and too dangerous.
“I shall leave Miss Martin in your capable hands,” he said.
“You might consider occupying your hands with a visit to the upper floor of Remington’s,” Aaron suggested. “To take the edge off.”
The prod to partake in the more carnal offerings at his favorite gentlemen’s club came from keen observation. Although Aaron’s observant nature was one of the reasons why Jasper had employed him, it was damned inconvenient when aimed in his direction. “Watch her. Not me.”
He turned about in search of another familiar figure. As luck would have it, he didn’t have far to look.