Eliza nodded. “I understand now. Ruling out my mental and physical attributes would leave only my fortune as an enticement for handsome men. I’m quite enlightened, Sir Richard.”

The waltz ended. She retreated the moment the last strains faded away. “Thank you. This discussion has been most informative. However, I seek clarification on one point: If attractive men find only my fortune alluring and you find my brain alluring, does that make you unattractive?”

Tolliver’s mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. Nothing came out.

After an abbreviated curtsy, Eliza spun about and left the dance floor. She intended to go to Jasper, but he was no longer where she last saw him.

Jasper found Miss Tolliver on the dance floor. Shortly afterward, he was himself found by Lord Westfield.

“I’m almost inclined to wed posthaste,” his lordship said, “to spare myself further pre-matrimonial torment.”

“Because post-matrimonial torment is eminently more bearable,” Jasper said dryly.

“I don’t have unreasonable qualifications for a spouse,” Westfield said with some defensiveness. “So long as she doesn’t aggravate me unduly, and I’m not averse to bedding her, I am open to anyone of suitable breeding.”

“How progressive of you.”

The earl arched a brow. “Your tone leaves something to be desired. Now, tell me there’s something to be done here. I’m bored.”

“When Miss Tolliver exits the dance floor, I should like her to know my theory regarding today’s events.”

“Ah, you want to see how she reacts. Personally, I don’t see how a woman could have moved that statue. And you cannot tell me Sir Richard helped her. I’m not even certain he could lift his sibling.”

“Leave no stone unturned.”

When the waltz ended, they made certain to place themselves in Miss Tolliver’s path. She greeted Westfield with a charming and studied curtsy.

“Miss Tolliver.” Westfield gave an elegant bow. “A pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She offered a sympathetic smile to Jasper. “How is your foot this evening, Mr. Bond?”

“Improving, Miss Tolliver. Thank you.”

The pretty brunette offered a flirtatious smile. The pale yellow gown she wore was more heavily adorned than the similarly shaded gown Eliza had worn earlier in the day. Such details were not something Jasper was accustomed to noting. What a woman wore or how she styled her hair was inconsequential to him.

But Eliza’s appearance tonight was such a contrast to her usual mode of dress he suspected she purposely minimized her beauty before. It made him consider the attire of others with a more discerning eye, part of his careful reflection on the desire he had for her. Only days into their acquaintance and he knew he would not be ready to part from her in the foreseeable future. He also knew he was willing to go to great lengths to have her.

“I heard about the unfortunate incident at the Royal Academy.” Miss Tolliver shook her head. “How terrifying for Miss Martin! I am certain I would be bedridden for a sennight after such a shock.”

“She is managing extraordinarily well,” he agreed.

“Especially considering the circumstances,” Westfield said, in a confidential tone.

She frowned. “Circumstances?”

The earl leaned closer. “There is some speculation that the rope securing the statue might have been deliberately cut.”

“No!” Her hand went to her throat. “Why would anyone do something so heinous? Especially to Miss Martin.”

“I didn’t say she was the intended target,” he qualified, straightening. “She might simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Well, there is some small comfort in that.” She exhaled audibly. “Deliberately cut, you say. I wonder why?”

She looked away and worried her lower lip with her teeth.

“I wouldn’t dare speculate,” Westfield said. “It’s rarely good to have one’s name associated with such sensational tales.”

“True of us all,” she said gravely, dipping into another curtsy. Miss Tolliver excused herself, and Jasper followed her with his gaze. She headed directly to a group of women.

“She spreads the tale,” Westfield murmured, turning his back to her.

“That’s no proof of innocence. In fact, a clever person might assume that bearing the news to others would lighten suspicion. After all, what reasonable person would air their misdeeds to all and sundry?” Jasper intended to have both Tollivers followed for a time. He would not take any chances.

“Excellent point.”

“What do you know of the investment pool managed by Lord Collingsworth?”

“I participated for a time, but Collingsworth is too conservative for my taste. You might feel similarly.”

How like Eliza to be cautious. Money was vitally important to her, not for what it could buy, but for the measure of freedom and control its possession granted her. “Do you know who the other investors are?”

“A few. Not all. Why?”

“Miss Martin is one of them.”

“Truly?” Westfield’s brows rose. “Wasn’t aware of that. Does that make me a suspect?”

Smiling, Jasper said, “Possibly.”

The earl grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing servant. “How delicious.”

“Not if you’re at fault.” Jasper moved forward.

“Was that a threat, Bond?”

“Not if you are at fault,” he said again. “In that case, it would be a promise.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the card room. Perhaps the scent of desperation will lead me in a new direction.”

“You never answered my question about what you’ll do once you own Montague’s property.” Although Westfield was the public face of the wager that secured the property, Jasper hadn’t revealed why he wanted it.

However, he had no hesitation in revealing what he would do with it. “I will raze the house, then leave England.”

“For parts unknown?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Jasper looked at him. “I’ve purchased a plantation in the South Seas.”

“Good God.” The earl choked on his champagne. “Only you would find peace living among savages.”

“I think similarly about your life.”

A brilliant shade of sapphire blue in the periphery of Jasper’s vision caught his interest. He turned his head to catch Eliza moving toward one of three sets of French doors leading outside to a wide veranda.

She shot him a look over her shoulder. It was not the calculated look of a practiced flirt. It was simpler and more sincere, betraying pleasure at seeing him and the hope he might follow.

He smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgment.

“I will go ahead without you,” Westfield murmured.

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“You disappoint me, Bond. When a beautiful woman looks at you in that manner, you should need far more time than that.”

Eliza moved toward the nearest exterior exit with the hope that her dark gown would blend somewhat with the darkness of night and provide her a brief spell of anonymity. She felt Jasper’s stare following her and fought the urge to quicken her pace. Not because she wished to avoid him, but because it was instinctive to run when caught in the sights of a hunter.

The anticipation of capture was its own pleasure. The hair on her nape stood on end and gooseflesh covered the parts of her arms exposed above her long gloves. When the warmth of a large hand surrounded her elbow, she couldn’t fight the shiver that moved through her.

“Miss Martin.” Jasper’s deep voice caused a tingling in her stomach. With an easy grip, he led her outdoors to where several guests were paired in quietly voiced conversations. “You might have warned me that you would steal my breath upon sight.”

“Thank you.” Unlike Tolliver’s compliment, Jasper’s praise did not make her feel awkward. Instead, she felt warm and slightly giddy.

“Altering your appearance to goad speculation was an excellent plan.” He looked down at her with warm appreciation. “In case I’ve failed to mention it, I love the way you think.”

Eliza flushed. “Would you admire my intellect less to know I hoped my presentation would impress you as much as my reasoning?”

“No. I would be deeply flattered.”

“I feel silly,” she confessed. “Simply knowing you goads me into acting in ways I normally wouldn’t.”

Jasper smiled, and she found him so handsome it made her chest tighten. “Would it ease your nervousness to know I have second-guessed every aspect of my attire from the knot of my cravat to the shoes on my feet before every meeting I’ve had with you since the first? I believe it’s part of the mating ritual.”

He slowed as they stepped outside the circle of light cast by the ballroom chandeliers. There were torches set around the veranda, but they were spaced at wide intervals to provide just enough illumination to delineate where stone gave way to lawn.

“Part of the charade?” she asked.

“I’ve yet to feign anything with you, Eliza.”

Unsure of how to banter flirtatiously, she moved on to safer topics. “How do you know Lord Westfield?”

“Lucian Remington introduced us one evening.”

She was momentarily surprised Jasper would boast membership in such an exclusive establishment as Remington’s Gentlemen’s Club. Then, she recalled that Lucian Remington was the bastard son of the Duke of Glasser. He was known to allow gentlemen of any background to join his club…so long as they could afford it. The practice was tolerated by those born of higher station because Remington’s was grand on the grandest scale. They were loath to deny themselves such luxury.

“Have you known one another long?”

“Not excessively long, no.”

Although he didn’t move, she sensed the change in him. The sudden alertness. It was similar to being doused by chilled water. She sometimes forgot she and Jasper Bond hardly knew one another, because her overwhelming physical attraction to him fostered an illusion of intimacy.