Page 38 of Fair Weather Enemies
“I see. Two birds with one stone. You would rid yourself of a ridiculous horse while escaping certain death. But what would polite society think about your mistreatment of the poor animal?”
As if on cue, Beelzebub lunged for Adam’s hat. He managed to rescue it from the horse’s teeth with minimal damage. After brushing saliva from the hat’s crown, he replaced it on his head. “I believe polite society would both understand and applaud my actions. You aptly named the beast.”
“I suppose you may be correct, though I’m not a good judge of my betters. I long ago abandoned attempts to predict their whims. They seem to prize what I do not and disdain what I cherish. I am often confounded by them.”
He peered at her until she grew uncomfortable. Then he said, “Do you consider me one ofthem? One of your confounding betters?”
She regarded him with mute surprise. In truth, he seemed different to her now than even a few days earlier. An inexplicable tremor swept through her. She dismissed the sensation and smirked instead. “You are definitely not my better, Mr. Ashford. However, youareone ofthem.”
“Oh!” He swept his hat dramatically from his head and bowed mockingly before replacing it. “Perhaps the right honorable Miss Hancock would deign to instruct me, a wretched member of thethems, in the art of what to cherish.”
“Really, Adam, I…”
“No, Jane. I insist. You may begin by telling me what you cherish in a man.”
She considered protesting, but his theatrics awakened her mischief. “Very well. I will educate you only because I pity you. I prefer a mousy man, slender as a maypole, with a long nose that whistles when he breathes. And a stern nature that offers firm condescension to any who dare stray from their assigned place. Oh, and he must possess a suitable vice or two, such as gambling or shouting at children or chasing light-skirts. Above all, he must be as rich as Croesus and twice as arrogant. I fear I could not love a man who did not possess all of these qualities in abundance.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed as she spoke, but he grew a half smile. “I see. Where you might find such a commendable man, I do not know. Perhaps in one of London’s finest gutters.”
“Or in any noble house.” With as much hauteur as she could muster, she said, “What of you? What do you prefer in a woman?”
“Let me see.” He placed a finger to his chin and glanced skyward. “She must be frivolous and giddy, with a laugh that can be heard across two counties. The more earsplitting, the better. And she must be able to maintain a steady diatribe of nonsense from sunrise to sunset so that I need say nothing. But most of all, she should faint dead away at the mention of intolerable subjects, such as blowing one’s nose or having original thoughts.”
His description produced in her a muffled laugh. “Oh, what a virtuous woman you describe. A veritable ‘Proverbs’ woman. However, you appear to have omitted one desirable trait.”
“You don’t say. What trait is that?”
“Apparently, you prefer women who do not kiss donkeys called Romeo.”
“You bring that up again. Did I not already apologize?”
“You did, but you have not yet suffered sufficiently.”
This time, he laughed. “I accept your point. I will henceforth pull my manure cart with a greater sense of misery.”
She marveled briefly at Adam’s self-deprecation. A week ago, she had believed him to be an arrogant dandy, incapable of admitting any flaw. However, the man walking beside her seemed nothing like that. He was more dedicated than dandy, more humble than haughty, and more genuine than gentleman. His lingering proximity set her sensibilities on edge, even as butterflies erupted in her stomach. She found the sensation unsettling but not unpleasant. She glanced up at him with curiosity.
“What about Miss Rutley, then? She seems willing to pay you attention.”
He chuckled softly. “I am a consolation prize at best. To her, I am likely not so much a man as a venerated name and a plot of land.”
A wave of pity and protectiveness suddenly came over Jane. She opened her mouth to disagree with his assessment. He was much more than a consolation prize, much more than a name and an estate. In fact, despite her desire to think otherwise, he seemed the very epitome of a decent man. However, pride and twenty years of training stopped the words before they left her lips. She closed her mouth and very carefully reminded herself that he was an Ashford.
He peered at her closely. “You’ve something to say?”
“Nothing,” she replied. Instead, she fell quiet while considering the injustice of God wasting such charm and fine looks on her sworn enemy. Nothing seemed fair anymore.
Chapter Sixteen
Four hours of walking brought the treasure hunters to the town of Penrith. For Adam, the long walk had passed swiftly in conversation with Jane. Only near the end had he begun to suspect that Hester and Barlow had intentionally sequestered themselves. Did they really mean to push Jane and him toward a more civil association? As much as he wished to discard the notion as ridiculous, he was forced to admit that their plan was working. He was beginning to like Jane. His parents must be turning over in their graves at the very notion of it! He whispered a prayer of apology and vowed to try more diligently to resist Jane’s charms. After all, she was his ardent enemy, and one could never trust an enemy. Was that not so?
“We should ask someone for directions to the church.”
Hester’s suggestion seemed prudent. Although Penrith was not large, their tight schedule left little time for wandering aimlessly. However, Barlow had other thoughts.
“Not necessary, my dear Mrs. Byrd.” He pointed. “It lies just there, I believe. We need only continue along this route.”
Hester laughed. “Very good, Simon. You’ve the eyes of a hawk.”
