JORDAN Nicole (18 page)

But before she could reply, the duke spoke. “Shall I see you at ten, then?”

“Yes, your grace.”

When he had bowed himself out, Roslyn muttered a soft oath. She shouldn’t let herself be so affected by her arousing tutor.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Even though she’d braced herself against his devastating appeal, she was far more attracted to him than was wise.

She knew better than to fall under the duke’s spell. Certainly she would never behave like the leagues of starry-eyed females who pictured themselves as his duchess. So what if his wicked smile set her pulse racing? If his mere nearness heightened her senses? Arden was a practiced lover who could charm and enchant any woman he pleased.

Not that he actuallywished to enchant her. It was merely a natural skill that he utilized without thought. She would like to have even a fraction of his talent for seduction.

Roslyn felt herself frown. Was that what he’d meant by her shortcomings? Her inability to enchant the opposite sex? She had certainly failed with Haviland this morning.

At the very least she had to overcome her awkward reserve with the earl. That seemed to be her biggest obstacle at the moment—shedding her self-consciousness long enough to try out her newly learned techniques of seduction on him.

But hopefully the duke could show her how tomorrow.

It was generous of him to continue her lessons, Roslyn reflected, especially when he had such a disdain for love and marriage. It was also a little sad that he would never know the joy of a love match, as she hoped to do one day.

Abruptly reproving herself, Roslyn shook her head, determined to put Arden from her mind until tomorrow morning.

As long as he was prepared to help her, his beliefs about love mattered not a whit.

Despite his reluctance to be alone with Roslyn, Drew kept his promise to call at Danvers Hall the next morning. He wanted to get her lesson over with, for the sooner he succeeded in helping her win Haviland, the sooner he could wash his hands of her.

She was in the library again, he discovered when he was shown in by the butler, and she looked pleased to see him.

“Did you call on Haviland yesterday?” was the first question she asked while moving to sit in a wing chair.

“Yes,” Drew answered as he settled in his usual place on the sofa. “We mainly discussed plans for his ball. I reviewed his guest list and gave him my opinion of those I knew.”

“No doubt he appreciated it,” Roslyn replied.

Drew shrugged. “I wouldn’t care to be in his shoes, having to perform for the ton like a dancing bear at a fair.”

“So do you mean to attend his ball?”

“Yes, I promised to make a show of support. Eleanor and her aunt are invited as well, and so is my friend Claybourne.”

Roslyn’s brow furrowed. “I trust the highwayman won’t strike again that night. It would reflect poorly on Haviland if any of his guests were assaulted.” She shuddered. “And I dread to think of someone else being threatened with a pistol, as we were.”

“I plan to escort Lady Freemantle to the ball myself,” Drew said. “If the brigand was specifically targeting her for the first robbery, as you believe, he may try a second time.”

She gave him a fervent look. “Oh, thank you! I have worried about her safety.”

“I think you may stop worrying. Haviland is taking extra precautions and has his defenses well in hand. And I will keep in touch with him meanwhile.”

“What else did you discuss?” Roslyn asked leadingly. “Did you mention me, perhaps?”

Drew couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness. “Only in the most flattering terms. He seems to think very highly of you. But our conversation soon turned to politics. Haviland wants to take up his seat in the Lords when Parliament reconvenes in the fall.”

“So he told me. It is one of the things I admire about him…that he is not the typical indolent nobleman.”

“Was that a gibe at me, darling?”

Roslyn dimpled. “Not really. I understand from Lady Freemantle that you take your ducal responsibilities quite seriously. Your estates reportedly are the model of modern agricultural management, and you are heavily involved in governmental affairs. I admit I find that admirable, even if it surprises me. Many noblemen spend their time in frivolous pursuits.”

“I find too much frivolity deathly boring,” Drew said quite truthfully. “And I think Haviland is of the same mind. He asked if I would be willing to advise him on the workings of the government, so I agreed. And I offered to lend him my secretary for a time.”

“That is extremely kind of you,” Roslyn observed. “You make an excellent tutor.”

She offered him a warm smile—a smile like a gift. That smile tantalized him against his will, and Drew shifted uneasily in his seat. “I suggested he begin by reading Cobbett’sParliamentary History . I plan to send him my volumes.”

“I could loan him mine.”

“No, you don’t want him to think you too bookish.”

She laughed. “I suppose not.”

Her gaze turned thoughtful then, and she gave him a measuring glance. “I am curious, your grace. If you feel so strongly about your ducal responsibilities, do you intend to marry someday? I should think you would want heirs for your dukedom.”

“I will eventually,” Drew replied.

“I wondered. You have such an aversion to matrimony, I thought you might have decided never to wed.”

His smile was more of a grimace. “I know my duty. And I’m prepared to suffer a wife in order to beget heirs.”

“You sound very much like a misogynist.”

Drew grinned. “I like women well enough. I just can’t bear the thought of being shackled to one specific woman for life.”

“It is a pity that marital vows require a man to choose only one wife,” she replied, her tone teasing. “I presume you will make a marriage of convenience rather than love?”

“Of course.” His reply was bland. “Aristocrats don’t marry for love. For members of our class, marriage is a callous business transaction. A cold union of blood and titles and fortune. One that will likely end up proving tedious or even distasteful.”

“What a delightful prospect,” Roslyn said wryly. “My ideas for marriage are very different from yours, quite obviously.”

“Indeed. You believe in fairy tales.”

She smiled. “It is a shame you cannot hope for anything better. But perhaps someday you may encounter a woman you actually wish to marry.”

Drew frowned, wondering how he had come to be discussing matrimony. Usually his mind sheared away from the unpleasant subject. Oh, he knew he would do his duty eventually. But he had never given serious consideration to the woman he would one day wed. He only knew he didn’t want his duchess to be anything like his mother—a cold, grasping, power-hungry witch who thought only of her own needs and desires.

“Did your parents have anything to do with your aversion, as mine did?” Roslyn asked quite innocently.

His mother had a great deal to do with his aversion to marriage, Drew acknowledged to himself. “I would say so.”

“Why?” Her tone was curious. “Were your parents as horribly antagonistic as mine? Did they despise each other?”

“No. They rarely showed any emotion toward each other at all. They considered it ill-bred to exhibit any feelings.”

“And they raised you that way?”

Her perceptiveness cut too close for comfort. He’d had a cold upbringing. A childhood barren of affection or familial feeling. “Somewhat,” was all Drew could bring himself to say.

“So your parents married for convenience.”

“And to perpetuate their illustrious bloodlines. They both could trace their ancestry back to William the Conqueror.”

“I suppose you mean to do the same?”

Again Drew shrugged. “I don’t particularly care. But other than carrying on the line, there are few benefits to marriage.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes. In fact, there are many disadvantages.”

“Such as?”

“For one thing, most couples who wed for convenience have little in common, so there is little enjoyment to be found in each other’s company.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded.

“And marriage can be a prime opportunity for boredom. If you’re shackled to one wife, you can’t easily be rid of her. At least a mistress can be exchanged if you grow tired of her.”

Her blue eyes danced with laughter. “That is an advantage indeed. I hadn’t considered it.”

Drew leaned back in his seat, beginning to enjoy himself. “Marriage can be a breeding ground for hostilities, as your own parents proved.”

“That is one point we can agree on, at least,” Roslyn said with a shudder. “What else?”

“A bachelor has no family to tie him down, as a married man does. A bachelor can do precisely as he pleases.”

“Yes, it would undoubtedly be frustrating to have to consider another person’s feelings. It is much easier to be selfish and never put anyone else’s happiness before your own.”

Drew appreciated her humor, but he pressed on. “A wife may turn out to be a nag,” he pointed out. “Or fall into jealous rages if her husband spends his days at his club and his nights in bed with his mistress.”

“Could you blame her?”

“Yes. A marriage of convenience is just that—a legal union with no promises of love or fidelity.”

“Which is precisely why I would never consider wedding for mere convenience,” Roslyn said, leaning forward earnestly. “But there are advantages to be found in a good marriage that I’m certain you have never considered.”

“Name one.”

“I can name several. The best is that you will always have a companion. Someone to talk to and listen to. To wake up to each morning, and share meals and congenial pursuits with. You are rarely lonely.”

Drew relaxed against the sofa back. “Assuming the couple is compatible, which is rarely the case in a convenient marriage.”

“In agood marriage, they are compatible in most respects and have many shared interests. Moreover, they can have children, a family,” Roslyn continued.

“You can have that in any marriage.”

“True, you can beget children. But it will hardly be aloving family. And keep in mind the most important advantage: A husband will have a hostess for his balls, and his wife will have an escort to various entertainments.” She gave a light laugh. “You must admit that Haviland wouldn’t be in his current predicament if he were married to me.”

“I cannot argue with that,” Drew admitted, amused.

“No, seriously…a good marriage is based on friendship and affection and perhaps love—even though you don’t believe in it.”

Drew mentally shook his head. He couldn’t imagine his own parents ever having loved each other or even being friends. If his mother had a heart of ice, his father hadn’t been much warmer. The late Duke of Arden had been rigid, reserved, aloof—a strict disciplinarian who never showed any signs of affection for a living soul, not even his only son and heir. Drew hadn’t grieved terribly when he lost his father eight years ago, for they barely knew each other.

He’d been shipped off to Eton when he was six, where he was fortunate to meet his cherished boyhood friends. Except for Marcus and Heath, he might have turned out very much like his austere sire. Thank God they had saved him from becoming such a self-important stuffed shirt.

Drew summoned a smile. “Not even those possible advantages could tempt me into marriage. I am quite content to remain single.”

“Are you truly?” She cocked her head. “A loving marriage can give you satisfaction and fulfillment. Can you say your mistresses give you fulfillment other than the carnal kind?”

No, he couldn’t claim that. He’d had a number of mistresses in the past, but those liaisons, while fulfilling sexually, had been only superficial. He had wanted it exactly that way, with no attachment, no bonding, no passion beyond the physical.

“The carnal kind is all that interests me,” he answered evenly.

Her expression turned impish. “I sincerely hope Lord Haviland doesn’t share your opinion.”

“You will have to convince him otherwise—which means you need to work harder at seducing him.”

“I intend to,” she said sweetly. “Why do you think I have spent so much time learning your techniques? I have every intention of seducing him into loving me.”

When she smiled serenely, Drew’s gaze was drawn to her mouth. Not only did he feel the fierce urge to kiss her, but he found himself increasingly captivated by the enchanting Roslyn Loring.

Yet she clearly had no such feelings for him.

Her disinterest in him not only irked him but was beginning to be a challenge, Drew realized. It roused the primal urge in him to prove that she wasn’t nearly as indifferent to him as she pretended.

Comprehending the danger in succumbing to his urges, however, he consulted the mantel clock. “Enough about matrimony. I suggest we move on to your lesson, for I need to be in London by noon.”

He rose and moved to shut the library door. “So we won’t be disturbed,” he explained before returning to lounge on the sofa. “Tell me about the rest of Fanny’s letter. What did she advise you about clothing?”

Roslyn had been pondering the duke’s remarks about marriage when he abruptly changed the subject, so it took her a moment to shift her thoughts.

Even then she hesitated, reluctant to repeat Fanny’s suggestions, since they entailed making an effort to show off her physical charms. “She merely said I should adopt a more inviting style.”

“She’s right. That gown you’re wearing is attractive enough”—his gaze skimmed down her peach-colored muslin morning dress that was part of her new wardrobe—“but it is a trifle too modest for your purpose. The neckline should be lower to show more bosom, and the waist tighter to emphasize your figure. Your curves are ample enough, I know firsthand. But with your height and slenderness, you need to highlight the lushness of your breasts.”

Unable to stop her blush, Roslyn sent the duke a reproachful look, certain he was enjoying discomfiting her. In return he gave her a smile that was wickedly charming—one that had a deplorable effect on her pulse rate.

“Your hair is another problem,” he said, his assessment moving upward from her body to her face.