Pride and Pleasure (3 page)

Jasper leaned back in his chair, considering. There was something about the way she eyed him that set off a quiet alarm. He appreciated being paid for services rendered—as anyone did—but he wondered if more than the balance of her accounts and a wish to absolve a debt was motivating her. He’d dealt with members of the peerage who felt the act of paying him put him in his place. Once he’d accepted money, he was no longer a businessman but a commodity they had rights and power over. In most instances, he cared not at all what clients told themselves to assuage their pride. In this case, he would not allow Eliza to think she could control him with her money.

“We have an agreement,” he said, smiling slightly to soften the rigidity of his position on the matter. “A fortnight without pay. If I have satisfied you at that time, you may make restitution then.”

There was a flash of wariness in her blue eyes. Barely there and then gone. “But I do not intend to replace you.”

“Excellent. I do not intend to be replaced.” He held the list aloft. “Did you, perchance, put these in order of most suspicious to least likely?”

“Yes, of course.” She stood and rounded the desk.

He rose quickly, watching in surprise as she settled into the seat beside him. She leaned over the armrest and gestured for him to sit. “If you have any questions, I’m most willing to answer them to the best of my ability.”

As Jasper lowered himself back into the chair, he inhaled the rather exotic scent of her perfume, appreciating how different it was from her modest mode of dress. She was a study in contradictions, from her appearance to her voice to her handwriting. “Why is the Earl of Montague so near the bottom?”

Eliza’s head tilted so she could better see where he pointed. It was the closest proximity they’d shared yet, affording him the opportunity to note the smattering of light freckles over the bridge of her nose. “Why shouldn’t he be within the ‘least likely’ section? His lordship is handsome and charming and—”

“Desperately in debt.” It was by dint of will alone that he managed not to crush the foolscap in his hand. What natural attraction he felt for her was increased by a sense of possessiveness. Damned if Montague would get his hands on Eliza or her money.

“Yes. I know. But so are many of the men on the list. Those who are not in debt are of limited means.” She saw his raised brows and another slight smile curved her lips. “I’ve looked into the circumstances of every gentleman who calls upon me, even the ones whose motives are clear straightaway.”

“And how did you manage that?”

“I may not have a bookkeeper, Mr. Bond—”

“Jasper,” he corrected, yet again.

Her shoulders went back. “Such familiarity is inappropriate in business dealings.”

“Not so.” It appeared he was correct about her wish for distance. “And especially not in this instance. You should be more than a little fond of me. I collect that you find it difficult to contemplate, since I am not your type of male, but the use of given names and time spent in my company will help to alleviate any awkwardness you might feel, creating a more believable presentation.”

“You said to leave that aspect of the plan to you.”

“Quite right. I will lead, you will follow.” He used the tone of voice that never failed to pull others into line. He knew if he gave Eliza the slightest opportunity, she would run roughshod over him. “Now, about how you acquired your information . . . ?”

Her lips pursed. Clearly she was not a woman used to being managed.
Been allowed to run amok, that one,
Lynd had said. Jasper wouldn’t change that about her, even if afforded the opportunity, but he also wouldn’t be led around by the nose.

“I have a man of affairs,” she said, “who makes discreet inquiries for me as necessary. One cannot be too careful.”

Jasper leaned back, settling into a comfortable position to better enjoy the conversation. “And what sort of information did you glean from these inquiries? Were you made aware of the full extent of Lord Montague’s debts?”

“I know enough to be wary.”

“Then why put him in such an elevated position on your list?”

“As I said, he is charming and could certainly secure a better match than me. I think he uses me to make other women jealous. My mother used to say, ‘there’s nothing so attractive as a man who belongs to another woman.’ Montague may be financially troubled, but few know that. He’s managed to hide it well. And he is handsome enough to cover many faults in some women’s eyes.” Her gaze narrowed, and she raked him from head to toe. “In fact, you two are similar in height and coloring. Build, too, although he is not nearly as . . . broad.”

It took great effort not to tense and betray his unease at her perceptiveness. “And yet you claimed others would see me and know straightaway I was not like your other suitors at all.”

“You have an astonishingly good memory, Mr. Bond.”

“Jasper.”

She took a deep breath. “Your sharp recollection is laudable. . . Jasper.”

“Thank you, Eliza.” He held back a satisfied smile at the tiny bit of progress. “I’ve found the skill quite useful. But I confess, I’m perplexed by your contradictory statements.”

“I said there were similarities, but they are not overly evident.” She didn’t intend for her perusal to be invigorating, but it most definitely was. “He is handsome, yes. As are you. But you are flamboyantly so. It’s astonishing really, the way the first sight of you arrests the brain. Whenever I initially catch sight of you, it takes a moment to pull my thoughts together.”

“I am gratified you find me appealing.” And relieved that the fraternal similarities she’d noted were so quickly dismissed.

“Fustian. I’m certain you must be accustomed to all the attention by now. What is it like, by the way? Having people admire you when you enter a room or pass them by?”

“I don’t notice such things.”

“Truly?”

“I am usually intent on whatever purpose I have for being in any given location or situation.”

“Oh, I see.” Eliza nodded. “Yes, you are quite focused. Intensely so. It’s another trait distinguishing you.”

He swiftly utilized the avenue provided by her curiosity. “Tomorrow, I intend to take you to the Royal Academy of Art. You can see for yourself how others perceive me.”

“An outing?” She frowned. Oddly, he liked that as much as her hint of a smile. Her face was so expressive, it took much of the guesswork out of wondering what was on her mind. “I suppose that’s the best way to expose me and lure the culprit out.”

“I would never use you as bait. It’s my intention to become the target instead.” He took care to fold the list neatly. “Over the next several weeks, you and I will be spending a great deal of time together. The more you are seen with me, the bigger a threat I will become.”

She watched him tuck the folded paper into a pocket of his waistcoat.

“In addition,” he went on, “I will need to meet with your man of affairs.”

“Why?”

“Some men do not appreciate having their private matters examined, discreetly or not. And I must ask about your investments and Lord Melville’s activities.”

Her face took on an appearance of great interest. “You suspect another motivation.”

“It’s a possibility. Malicious intent can be incited by many things: love, money, and vengeance are at the top of the list. You are wealthy, others are not. If any of your investments or ventures has caused an individual to feel wronged, there is motive there. If anyone holds ill-will toward Melville, hurting someone close to him could be motive as well.” Jasper held her gaze. “Personally, I can understand why someone would go to great lengths to win you. But to take it to the point of injury against you . . . I cannot wait to learn the identity of our mystery assailant. I anticipate that introduction with great relish.”

Eliza did not appear to be alarmed by his fervent hope for violence. “I’m grateful for your attention to the task.”

“You would not accept anything less.”

She stood, and he stood with her. Her head tilted back to maintain eye contact. “Mr. Lynd and the Runner I hired both seemed to think I was daft. It isn’t a pleasant feeling to be treated as mentally inferior. It was a brief glimpse, I suppose, of what Melville bears with terrible frequency.”

“Is that one of the reasons why you resist marriage? For your uncle’s benefit?”

“No. He’s quite capable of caring for himself, at least to the extent that he employs a trustworthy and efficient staff to manage the minutiae he has no patience for.” Her gaze moved to the clock on the mantel. “Today I am at home to callers. Will you be one of them?”

“Will it settle your mind if I am?”

Her head gave a slight shake. “Here at home, I feel safe enough.”

“Then I shall refrain. I think it will be more effective if I’m not one of the many. Tomorrow will be our first public appearance together, and you will be granting me your undivided attention. That will establish my connection with you in a more prominent way. We’ll require a chaperone who gossips. Do you know of someone who will suffice?”

“I’ll see to it. What do I say to those who ask about you? What reply can I give to inquiries about your people and situation?”

He breathed in her scent with a deep inhalation, one last delay before revealing a truth no one else knew. “You may tell them I am the nephew of the late Lord Gresham of County Wexford, and our families are old friends from long ago.”

“Oh . . .”

Jasper knew little of his mother’s relations. Diana Gresham had been disowned after her pregnancy became evident, a circumstance affording her no way out of the hell she’d died in. When Jasper tracked Gresham down years later, the only regret he felt at learning of his lordship’s recent passing was that he’d lost the opportunity to repay his uncle in kind.

“You are a conundrum, aren’t you?” Eliza said softly. “I should like to figure you out.”

“If you have a question, ask me.”

“Will you answer?”

That made him smile. When he heard her breath catch, his inner predator licked its lips and purred. For all her protests regarding the suitability of his appearance, it was undeniable that it pleased her. “My past and my future are irrelevant. You have my present. In that, yes, ask away. I will answer.”

“I knew you would be troublesome, Mr. Bond.”

“Jasper.”

“But I believe you will resolve my dilemma, and I find a measure of relief in that.” Rounding the desk, she resumed her seat. Her manner changed, became distant. She opened a drawer and withdrew a small book. “Here is a copy of my social calendar for the remainder of the Season as it stands so far. I will keep a list of future invitations I accept.”

“Your thoroughness is admirable.”

“I think you and I shall work well together. Is there anything else? Or are we finished for today?”

He found himself wanting to linger, knowing it was still early in the day and the most interesting part of it would now be behind him. “These lists are sufficient at present. I’ll need to be apprised of the other matters we discussed—your investments, your man of affairs, and anything in Lord Melville’s past that might put a loved one at risk.”

“An investment pool managed by Lord Collingsworth and rental properties,” she answered, with her head already bent and quill in hand. “Both residential and commercial. I can take you to them, if you like.”

“I would.”

“Will the day after tomorrow be soon enough for a tour and meeting with my man of affairs, Mr. Reynolds?”

“Quite. I will also need a list of your tenants.”

She glanced up at him. “Your attention to detail is very impressive.”

He bowed. “I do try. I will call on you tomorrow at one.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Turning about, Jasper moved to leave the room. On the threshold, he looked back, finding a small bit of pleasure in catching Eliza staring after him, despite the frown marring her brow. She looked down quickly.

When he reached the foyer, he pulled out his pocket watch and was startled by the time. He’d overstayed his visit by nearly ten minutes, making him late for his next appointment.

Bloody hell. He had completely forgotten the time.

E
liza was compiling the list of property holdings Jasper had requested when her man of affairs was announced. She looked up at the somberly dressed but friendly-faced man in her study doorway, and gestured for him to take a seat before her desk. “Good morning, Mr. Reynolds.”

“An excellent morning, Miss Martin.” Terrance Reynolds sat and placed his satchel at his feet.

She shook her head at the butler, who’d been waiting to relay a tea service request to the housekeeper. While she knew she should offer the courtesy, she truly didn’t have much to say, and she dreaded the awkwardness that would arise when she couldn’t fill the additional time with conversation. Some women possessed a talent for charming but meaningless discourse. Sadly, she was not one of them.

“You will be happy to hear,” Reynolds began, “that I’ve found a shopkeeper for the vacant space on Peony Way. A purveyor of soaps, candles, and such.”

“Excellent. You are most efficient, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Thank you.”

She set her quill aside, noting how much more comfortable she was talking to Reynolds than she was to Mr. Bond . . .
Jasper.
Yet that wasn’t to say she preferred the comfort of one over the excitement of the other, which made no sense, considering she’d never been one to enjoy excitation overmuch. Her mother’s life had forever been a series of crises and bursts of happiness interspersed with heated arguments and the depths of despair. Eliza had grown so weary of Georgina Tremaine Martin Chilcott’s incessant drama that she’d taken great pains to moderate her own life. She preferred private dinners to lavish balls, and the comfort of laying on her boudoir chaise with a book over literary luncheons. There was nothing at all soothing about Jasper Bond, and she was intrigued by the fact that she missed the heightened awareness she felt in his presence.

Eliza returned her attention to the man sitting across from her. “You mentioned last week that your brother’s employer had passed on. Is he still in search of employment?”

The males in the Reynolds family were all in trade as men of affairs and bookkeepers. She’d been briefly introduced to another of the siblings, Tobias Reynolds, who was possessed of the same golden locks and green-as-glass eyes as Terrance. She had henceforth inquired about Tobias on occasion—part of a well-meant but surprisingly arduous attempt to be more personable—and she’d learned of his misfortune in the course of those inquiries.

“He’s been assisting our father and other brother,” Reynolds replied, “but yes, Tobias is without a permanent post at the moment.”

“I should like to engage him, if he’s so inclined. He will have to travel and leave quickly, but the recompense should be sufficient to mitigate such inconveniences.”

Reynolds frowned. “Where would you like him to go?”

“County Wexford. There is a person of interest there I would like to know better. Family, circumstances, community stature. Things of that nature.” Eliza ignored the hint of unease that briefly plagued her. Yes, Jasper asserted that his past was irrelevant, and he was not a man one wished to cross. However, she had a right to know if she would be lying on his behalf, or if there was indeed more to her thief-taker than met the eye. “As always, discretion is the rule, but more so in this instance. I don’t want Lord Gresham to be aware of my interest. And timeliness will be rewarded.

“Would you prefer me to see to it personally?” he offered.

“No. I need you here. We’ll be advancing the monthly tour of my properties to the day after tomorrow.”

“As you wish, Miss Martin. I will speak with my brother as soon as I depart.”

“If you could also ascertain the extent of the allowance he feels will be sufficient to support the endeavor, I will ensure I have the amount available before he departs.”

“Certainly.” He didn’t query her about the nature of her interest, which was why they worked well together. She did not like to justify her expenses to anyone.

“Thank you.” She managed a smile. “That will be all for now, Mr. Reynolds. I appreciate you, as always.”

After he left, Eliza glanced at the clock on her desk. Her nose wrinkled. The morning was gone, and the afternoon was rushing by as swiftly. Soon, she would be welcoming guests into her parlor and engaging in conversation so inane she wouldn’t remember later what she discussed.

She was disappointed Jasper wouldn’t be there. The time would be much more engrossing if he were. When she considered all the amusements used to enliven events that never engaged her—the pianoforte, singing, card games, and chess—she was taken by the realization it was a man best used as a blunt-force instrument who interested her most.

 

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.”

Montague paused to tip his hat to Lord and Lady Grayson as they passed. When he looked back at Eliza, there was a new gleam in his eye, reminiscent of the way Jasper looked at her. It lacked the ability to make her breath catch, but she recognized it for what it was—the earl was suddenly more intrigued by her as well.

“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?”

“Wed me,” he repeated. “I will give you things you don’t yet know you want. I understand you, Miss Martin. We are different in all the best ways. A collaboration between us would be to the advantage of us both.”

“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.