Sylvia Day - Pride and Pleasure

“Oh…”

Jasper knew little of his mother’s relations. Diana Gre-sham 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.

Eliza 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 Ter-rance. 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.