Page 49 of The Secret of Flirting
Unfortunately, Pontalba didn’t rise to the bait. “Pardonnez-moi, my lord, I did not mean to offend. And of course, you do not have the space on your estate for the extensive gardens I have at Valcour. But you do much with what you have.”
Gregory fought to keep an even keel. If not for the smug look in Pontalba’s eyes, he wouldn’t have managed it, but he wasnotgoing to let the duke know he’d drawn blood. That didn’t mean, however, that he would allow the arse to win the pissing match, which was all this was.
“Thank you, sir,” Gregory drawled. “Given my busy schedule, I prefer the amount of land I have. I can’t be here as often as I wish, since the cabinet and the prime minister depend upon me too heavily. Of course, you don’t have those constraints. I heard you were sent to the London Conference because the fellow who was supposed to come had other obligations.”
When Pontalba’s smugness vanished, Gregory congratulated himself on giving as good as he got.
But before the arse could retort, Lady Ursula surprised Gregory by jumping in. “I would hardly call an estate of two hundred acres ‘small,’ Your Grace.”
Pontalba visibly started. “No,” he said grudgingly. “I suppose not.”
“Oh,” Monique put in, “you were not here when Lady Fulkham told us of its size earlier.” Then, with a furtive glance at Gregory, she added, “But I’m sure yours is equally large, Your Grace.”
So she meant to placate everyone, did she? Gregory was still stewing over that when she said, “Lord Fulkham, I understand that you have a knot garden on the property. Do you think we could see that? I do so love knot gardens.”
Gregory doubted that the actress had ever seen a knot garden in her life, but no point in challenging her. “Of course. This way, Princess.”
Deliberately, he took them the long way around to the acres at the back of his home, so he could show them the terraced gardens, the stone bridge over the pond, and the view out over his extensive woodlands. By the time they’d reached the knot garden, the duke had grown silent about his precious Valcour.
As well he should. Since the revolution, few of the ducal titles in France had substantial property attached to them. Pontalba might be a duke, but Valcour was probably derelict and uninspiring.
Though that didn’t stop the man from leaning over to whisper in Monique’s ear from time to time, making her laugh or flirt or blush. It was the blushes that roused Gregory’s temper.Heshould be the only one making her blush.
Damn it, he must stop this obsession with her. He still needed answers, and he was squandering his opportunity to ask Lady Ursula the important questions.
Forcing himself to ignore Monique’s flirtations, he said, “So you are related to Prince Leopold, are you?”
The smile Lady Ursula had worn for most of their stroll faltered. “We are distant cousins, yes. When he was sixteen and I was seven, I used to trail after him everywhere. His family and mine were very close. We even came to see him a few times in England after he married Princess Charlotte.”
He narrowed his gaze on her as a thought occurred to him. “You would have been, what, fifteen then?”
“Yes.”
“So, not that much younger than the princess.”
“Pardon me, sir, but there is a vast difference between a fifteen-year-old and a twenty-year-old. One is essentially still a child, the other a woman.”
A fifteen-year-old was not a child, as she well knew. What if Lady Ursula had wanted Prince Leopold for herself? That would explain why she might try to eliminate Princess Aurore.
Though the lady-in-waiting didn’t strike him as the murdering sort. And it didn’t explain why she would attempt to killMonique. Unless she was worried that Monique might charm the prince, too. If Lady Ursula had spoken to Danworth and heard of the prince’s interest in renewing the courtship, that might have been enough to do it.
Still, if the count were to be believed, the prince’s initial offer had been refused some time ago. So why would Lady Ursula try to kill Aurore if the woman was no longer a rival? It made no sense.
But something was still afoot with Lady Ursula. She’d been too eager to have the prince come here. Gregory just hadn’t figured out why yet.
He pressed her further. “Those differences in age between men and women aren’t so bothersome in later years, are they? For example, a man of forty, like Prince Leopold, must not seem that old to a woman of thirty-one.”Like you.
She merely turned his implication back on him. “And a woman in her twenties, like Princess Aurore, must not seem that young to a man of thirty-five, like yourself.”
He stifled an oath. “Do you honestly think I have designs on the princess?”
“Don’t you?” She nodded to where Pontalba had just straightened the princess’s shawl. “Every time he whispers to her, you go rigid as a pike.”
“Only because of her political importance,” he lied. “That sly weasel is up to no good with her. Either he’s trying to ruin her chances to become queen so he can put his own candidate in... or he’s hoping to dazzle her with a courtship so he can rule with her himself. I don’t trust him.”
Lady Ursula regarded the couple thoughtfully. “I don’t particularly like him, but I’m not sure he’s as villainous as you think.” She cast Gregory an enigmatic glance. “Still, if you want, I can get him away from her.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “And what do you require in exchange?”
