Lady Varney's Risqué Business (2 page)

“Because since my newfound status as a peer of the realm was announced in September, you have not invited me to any of your dinner parties.”

“Forgive me, but you really wished an invitation to
dinner
?” Incredulous at that conclusion, she felt a thrill sweep up her spine that he might indeed not seek a wife. “I—I am only recently out of my year of mourning for my husband, Justin, and those who may dine at my table with me do not include bachelors.”

“Especially bachelors whom you once knew? Ah, the rules of this blasted society!” He leaned forward, his gaze at once tender and yearning. “Kitty—”

“Please, sir, I am still Lady Varney to you.”

“You never were that to me. Besides, you just called me Justin.” His eyes twinkled.

“I did not!”

“Of course, you did.” He sat back, crossed one long leg over the other and seemed too well satisfied with himself to soothe her ruffled senses.

“We are here to discuss business,” she insisted with a hauteur that had him narrowing his gaze on her.

It was not a kindly glance, either, but the fierce glare he’d worn so long ago as he climbed over the sides of the French
Cyr
.

He blinked, drew back and appraised her.

Good. At least we are now on firm footing.
Two equals about to do business. Not two older people who had cared passionately for each other so very many years ago.

She tipped her head when he remained silent. “Please tell me what you wish.”

He set his jaw, never having cared for anyone to give him orders. “As you know, I am to inherit the Earl of Belmont’s titles and estates. He is ailing. Sadly, I might add. I have come to care for my uncle deeply in the past six years that he and I have been friends. When I first set foot in England eleven years ago, I must say I had no idea he and I would ever get on. But we did. Do. Save for one issue.”

Kitty nodded, knowing precisely the matter that divided them. Touchy subject though it was, she went on boldly, because that was her wont, because it was her business to be forthright and because she knew this man very well. Or once had. “He wants you to marry.”

Justin seemed to retreat even further into himself. His jaw firmed. His lips thinned. His large eyes turned to glittering stones. “He wishes me to marry an heiress with title, high social standing and a suitable dowry. To put a fine point on it, he wants the perfect woman.”

“The earl thinks appropriately. His titles are six hundred years old and his estates are numerous and bring in a sizable sum each year.”

Justin snorted. “My uncle was right about you.”

Kitty felt what would come next would not be a compliment. “How so?”

“He declares there is not much you do not know about the peers of the realm, their income or their need for propriety.”

“To learn the genealogies of the famous one hundred families was a favorite pastime for a lonely little girl.”

His features softened to a genuine compassion that made her heart ache. “You were alone as a child?”

She swallowed, not wishing to remember her youth. “I do have one sister, younger by ten years. But our parents were preoccupied with society. Hence, the house was often cold and dark. But the library was a wonderful room, warm and full of enchanting tales. Not all of them were fiction.”

His mouth spread wide in a grin, and her memory of how those lips felt on her own was one she told herself could not be so fresh after more than a decade. Yet, it was.

She tipped her head, unable to suppress a smile. “Please tell me about the kind of woman you wish me to seek for you.”

“Ah. Yes.” He scowled, his glittering eyes hard as glass. “First, she must be lovely.”

“Of course.” No less for such a striking man. Besides, a plain woman would be intimidated by a husband who was so damned handsome.

“Blonde.”

“Blonde?” Hair color was often listed by a man, but not usually this early in the discussion.

“Golden-haired.”

She shifted.
That specific?
“I see.”

“She must be a peer in her own right.”

Kitty knit her brows, recalling how her own
barony of writ
had been the lure to Henry. “Why is this important?”

“Her own blue-blood complements my lack. Since I was born on the wrong side of the blanket, a lady in deed secures my own legitimacy.”

Kitty’s mind was racing.
How many single golden-haired ladies who were titled in their own right could she count? Four? Five?

“It also enhances the reputation of any of my offspring.”

“True. I had not thought of that.”

Looking innocent as a cherub, he lifted a palm. “You see my logic.”

“Certainly.”
Dear God, a taskmaster.
“What else might I add to her qualifications?”
A huge dowry? That’s what the
ton
says the old Earl demands of you.

“She must be shorter than I. Talented at the piano forte. A good conversationalist.”

“Really, how interesting.” Her gaze wandered to her own French piano. She frowned and noted, “Most men would have asked that she be a wizard at cards.”

He chuckled.

“Most bachelors,” she ventured, “want to ensure they keep their money in the family.”

“Oh, never doubt, my dear Kitty, that I have other requirements perhaps more astonishing than not caring about my future wife’s ability at the card table.”

Oh, my.
This was the point at which many men told her they wanted peculiar qualities in their spouse. She hadn’t expected any oddities from Justin. Would she be disillusioned as well as surprised? And even more
jealous?
“Do tell me what they are.”

“I want someone versed in the art of conjugal bliss.”

Was she gaping at him? “I’m sorry. I supposed, I mean, I presumed—”

“You thought I wanted a virgin?”

“I did. Most men do.”

“Not I.”

“
Why ever not?”
Was that her own shrill voice?

A grin flashed over his features. “I also want someone who has had a child.”

“A—?” Kitty blinked, clearing her impression of this man who now seemed suddenly so calculating. “Pardon me?”

“I need an heir. I need to be assured that the woman I marry can conceive and carry a child to term, birth him well and rear him. This means she must be of good constitution. After all, I will need not one child but at least two. Preferably three.”

“Three.”

“Children.”

“Raised by her.” Kitty sat, dumbfounded.

“I want no fainting lily. No frail Bess. And no parade of nurses and governesses.”

“But surely, you need
one
,” she babbled, “of each.”

“Of course. One governess. One nurse. And one loving mother.”

“I see.” Kitty began to have a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that signaled either rage or a headache. Stress like this reminded her of verbal sparing with Henry, who thankfully had gone to his Maker. The cure for that had been for her to run to her garden. Prune her roses. Trim her yews. At the moment, she could do neither but deal with Justin and his demands. “You are being very specific.”

“I am.”

“Almost too much so.”

“Why do you say that?”

She rose to her feet, the sensation of standing so quickly made her head light. Airy. Euphoria had her swaying. So unexpected was this feeling that she walked toward the fireplace and put a steadying hand to the mantel. “Let me recount your requirements.”

He nodded as he sat in his chair, looking so infernally regal and congenial that she wanted to gather the fine lapels of his frock coat in her fists and shake him. “Proceed.”

“You want a young woman, an heiress with wealth
”

He raised a hand to make her pause. “She need not be young. Too young and she is not useful to me as a wife who can bear children.”

“Quite,” she agreed, diverted from the issue of wealth, but making a note to return to it. “Shall we say that you want a seasoned woman? Yes?”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“Blonde. Golden-haired, specifically. Shorter than you, so then she must be five
feet
four or five inches tall. Good at the piano, in the assembly hall and the ballroom. Versed in the bedroom. A woman who has already borne a child and who wishes to bear more. She must also enjoy the process of raising them. Anything I have missed?”

He let his gaze drift up to her cap of golden curls, then down to lock on her eyes. “That is an excellent summary.”

She braced herself for what she was now about to say. “I have made matches for men for nearly a year.”

“Ever since you began to emerge from mourning for your husband.”

She gave Justin a small smile. Realizing he knew this about her was a delight. “Yes, and I have created some very fine marriages. Though not all of my couples have yet taken vows, those five who did, are very happy.”

Justin brushed imaginary lint from his trousers. “So I have heard.”

“But these requirements you list are unusual.”

“I am a very exacting man.”

“You are. Your friends declare it. I hear your tailor does, too. Your butler.”

“I shall have to reprimand my man for engaging in gossip,” he told her, but his eyes and his lips quirked in amusement.

She tipped her head, unable to resist grinning at him and learning more. “Your butler is a good friend of my cook. They talk often.”

“To you as well, it seems.”

“My sources are legion. They help me with the work I do.” She raised her brows. “You must realize to match
-
make I need to know many facts about people.”

“A necessity of your occupation.” He winked at her, sending her back to days on his ship when she’d been so entranced by his charm.

She cleared her throat and returned to the subject of his visit. “Your list limits me severely.”

“I am aware of that.”

“There are few women who possess all the qualifications.”

He rose and came to stand before her.

So close now, she breathed his cologne. Smelled the mint on his breath. Admired the dimple in his left cheek and the facets of green and brown in his large heavy
lidded eyes. “In fact, there are only three women who meet all of your requirements.”

“Ah. But wait, you have not heard them all.”

“No? Preposterous! There is a very small pool of possible candidates, Justin. To add more requirements would be burdensome—”