The Pursuit Of Marriage (7 page)

“I believe that would be detrimental to my mother’s plans.” He chuckled.

“Certainly I was under the distinct impression she wanted to proceed with the redecoration at once.”

“Ah yes, the plans for the house.” He nodded. “That was exactly what I was thinking.”

“I should speak to her, though. Do you think she’s up to it?”

“Not today.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, she has left this entirely in my hands.”

“Really?” Cassie furrowed her brow. “How unusual. I must confess, my lord, I am more accustomed to working with the lady of the house than the gentleman. Gentlemen, at least from what their wives have told me, as well as my own experience with the male members of my family, tend to be reluctant to make changes in their surroundings, whether because of comfort or cost.”

“You will find me not reluctant in the least. Indeed, I am quite eager to hear your thoughts on my home and how it can be improved.” He straightened. “Would you care to see the rest of the house now? At least the rooms in question?”

“Yes, of course.”

He offered his arm, and she hesitated. This was not a social occasion. She was here to perform a service. Still and all, it would be rude not to take his arm. She drew a deep breath and steeled herself against the disturbing feel of his firm muscles beneath the light touch of her hand. He bit back a smile as if he were amused at her discomfort and worse, well aware of the odd effect he had on her. Did she have the same effect on him? It would certainly serve him right.

“I should probably tell you something about the house itself. It was constructed about a half century ago, I believe.”

He led her through one room, then another and another.

The house would have been most confusing, but in the past year, she had seen several other houses of a comparable age, built along the same general floor plan: one room opening into the next, that room, opening into another and again until, if one continued to proceed in a clockwise direction, one ended up where one began. Altogether, it was somewhat larger than her family’s home and smaller than her uncle’s. It was indeed in need of refurbishing, but it had excellent lines and proportions—bones, as she thought of them.

They ended their tour in the drawing room in which they had begun.

“There you have it.” Lord Berkley pulled his brows together. “In truth
I have never given the house or
its furnishings much consideration, but today I have seen it through your eyes. I must confess it’s not quite up to snuff, is it?”

“If it was, my lord, you would not need me.” She cast him her most professional smile.

“And that would be a great shame, Miss Effington.” He smiled, and her stomach flipped at the oddly intimate nature of it. “As it is, you have a great deal of work on your hands. My dear Miss Effington, you may well have found a lifelong pursuit here at Berkley House.”

“A lifelong pursuit?” Her voice rose. “What do you mean, a lifelong pursuit?”

“I daresay at some point we should probably want every room in the house refurbished. And it’s an exceedingly large house.” The corners of his mouth quirked upward in a wicked manner. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Nothing at all.” She forced a brisk note to her voice and started toward the door. “I have seen all that I need to see today. I should like to return as soon as possible with some preliminary drawings. The day after tomorrow I should think, if that is convenient for you?”

“I am at your complete disposal.” His voice sounded behind her, and she suspected he was grinning in an annoyingly satisfied manner. A lifelong pursuit indeed.

She whirled to face him. “And perhaps then your mother will be up to meeting with me. It would be most beneficial at this point if I am to decorate it with her in mind.”

“About that.” He shook his head slowly. “You’re not in truth doing this for my mother.”

She pulled her brows together in confusion. “I’m not?”

“No indeed.” His grin widened. “You’re doing it for my wife.”

Four

While honesty is indeed the best course, in dealing with the fairer sex, it is, on occasion, beneficial simply not to reveal too much. Omission rather than outright deceit. Although, deceit has its place….

Anthony, Viscount St. Stephens

“Y our wife?” Her eyes widened with shock. “You couldn’t possibly have a wife.”

He raised a brow. “Your surprise is most unflattering, Miss Effington. I know you have already declared we would not suit, but is it inconceivable to you that I could have a wife? That someone would wish to marry me?”

“Not at all, my lord.” She stared in obvious disbelief. “But I, and most of the people I know, believe you to be unmarried.”

“I never said I was married.” He smiled coolly and struggled not to laugh out loud. For a woman who had already declared that she had no interest in him, she was certainly overset to learn he might not be available.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You said you had a wife.”

“Did I?”

“You said I was to decorate this house for your wife. Therefore it’s logical to assume there does indeed exist a wife.”

“My apologies, Miss Effington. I should have said future wife.”

She studied him for a moment, then shook her head. “You’re not betrothed, either. I would certainly have heard about such an engagement.”

“Would you?”

“Indeed I would.” She cast him a smug smile. “I have extensive family and a great number of acquaintances. I would have heard about your betrothal before the proposal was out of your mouth.”

He laughed. “I had no idea you were so well informed. I shall have to remember that.”

“Yet, as I have heard nothing regarding your intention to marry—”

“What have you heard?”

“What?”

“About me.” He studied her curiously. “What have you heard?”

“Come now, my lord, surely you don’t—”

“Surely I do. In fact, I’m quite intrigued as to precisely what you have heard.”

“The usual kinds of things for a man of your reputation.
Inordinate gambling, illegal dueling, illicit liaisons—”

“Illicit liaisons?”
He laughed.

She glared. “Why is it, my lord, whenever I confront you with one of your sins you seem both surprised and pleased?”

“I don’t know.” His grin widened. “Obviously, it’s yet another flaw in my character. You have already determined I am not perfect.”

She drew her brows together. “And I believe I have already apologized about that observation.”

“Have you,” he murmured. “I can’t recall.”

“Well, perhaps not specifically…”

“Nonetheless, I make no apologies about my lack of perfection. However, we are not discussing my deficits—”

“Are you betrothed, then?” Her voice was cool, as if the answer didn’t matter to her in the least. He wondered if indeed it did. And why.

“No.”

She shook her head. “Then I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Nor should you, although I am beginning to understand.” The true purpose of his mother’s so-called dying wish was becoming all too apparent. “My mother is convinced she is about to take her last breath

—”

“Oh dear.” Genuine sympathy sounded in Miss Effington’s voice. “My mother said she was unwell, but I had no idea.”

“It was quite unexpected and has come as something of a shock to me as well.”

He resisted the urge to confess the suspicion he’d reached in the past hour that his mother’s illness was feigned and nothing more than a ploy to entice an excellent marriage prospect into his presence. Pity his mother had no idea Miss Effington had already decided she had no interest in becoming the next Viscountess Berkley and no interest in him whatsoever, although there had been a moment or two when he’d wondered if she had perhaps changed her mind.

If she had, he’d be a fool to reveal his suspicions. He had no doubt she would not take kindly to the manipulations of his mother or anyone else. While Reggie was not especially pleased by his mother’s plot, if indeed it was a plot, Miss Effington was a most intriguing young woman. Regardless of her previous declarations that they would not suit, it might well be worth the time and trouble to become better acquainted with her. After all, she could be wrong.

“My mother has long wished to see me happily wed.”

“In that she is no different than most mothers,” Miss Effington said wryly.

“She has the oddest notion that, in order to make a suitable match, I should have a suitable home.” He shook his head. “Apparently, she has abandoned the idea that I can make such a match on my own and only the lure of a house refurbished in the latest style can attract an appropriate spouse.”

Miss Effington snorted. “That’s absurd.”

“I thought so.”

“Why, I’m certain you have any number of excellent qualities that would attract a suitable match.”

“Are you?” He raised a brow. “I understood you thought I was most unsuitable.”

“For myself you are. But I am rather,” she thought for a moment, “discriminating.”

“You shall quite turn my head, Miss Effington,” he said wryly.

“Come now, my lord, we have been all through this.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “It’s your past that I object to. I have no desire for a man of a certain reputation.”

“Infamous?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “However, there are any number of eminently eligible ladies to whom reforming you would be a challenge they would leap at.”

“I have never thought of myself as a challenge to be leapt upon.”

“At,” she said firmly. “Not upon.”

“Pity.” He grinned. “Still, I do like the idea of being a challenge.”

“I’m not surprised,” she murmured.

“What are my excellent qualities, then?”

“I have no doubt you are already well aware of each and every one.” Her voice rang in the prim manner of a governess.

“Do humor me, Miss Effington. Besides,” he considered her thoughtfully, “you have not been the least bit reticent to point out my faults, stomping on my pride rather thoroughly in the process, I might add.”

“Your pride or your arrogance?”

“One and the same, I should think.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Regardless, you have quite wounded my pride or my arrogance or whatever you wish to call it, and the least you can do to make amends is tell me what these excellent qualities of mine are.”

“That’s fair I suppose. Very well. First of all,” she ticked the qualities off on her fingers, “you have an honorable title, you are not unattractive, and I understand your fortune is respectable as well.”

“You are well informed,” he teased.

She ignored him. “You are an excellent rider. From what I saw this morning, at any rate.”

“I did make a good show of it.” He grinned.

“You have a great deal of charm—”

He nodded firmly. “Indeed I do.”

“You can be most amusing.”

“I should have gone on the stage.” He blew a breath of regret. “I could have been famous.”

She stared in disbelief, colored by definite amusement. “However, you are not overly humble.”

He shrugged. “What would be the point?”

She cast him a reluctant smile. “You are kind to your mother.”

“Don’t forget small children and domesticated animals.”

She laughed. “I could never forget small children and domesticated animals. All in all, my lord, you could be considered something of a catch.”

“But not for you?”

“We have already determined that.”

“It’s my infamy again, isn’t it?”

She nodded in a somber fashion that belied the teasing twinkle in her eye.

“I was afraid of that.” He heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Nonetheless, I shall have to carry on.”

She raised a brow. “Bravely, no doubt?”

“It’s a quality you neglected to mention.”

“Do forgive me.”

“Of course.” He waved away her comment. “However, it does seem a shame to let these excellent qualities of mine go to waste, therefore, Miss Effington.”

He stepped closer to her, took her hand before she could protest, and raised it to his lips. His gaze trapped hers. Beneath the cool resolve in her blue eyes he was fairly certain he caught a glimpse of something else. A doubt possibly as to whether she’d been too hasty in dismissing him. A question perhaps as to whether they might indeed suit after all.

“If we cannot be lovers….” he said in a low voice. Surprise flashed in her eyes at the scandalous suggestion, but she did not pull away. How very interesting. “…can we be friends?”

She stared at him for a long moment. Indecision warred with interest.

“My companions, even your cousin Helmsley, will tell you I am a very loyal friend. A friend who can be counted on in times of crisis.”

“I have any number of friends,” she murmured, her gaze still locked to his.

“One can never have too many friends, Miss Effington.” He brushed his lips across the back of her hand and felt her shiver beneath his touch. Very good.