Page 35 of Masquerading with the Duke
In profile, her features so perfectly complimented one another that they would give fresh inspiration to the most disillusioned of poets. Her generous mouth frequently drew his attention as he wondered idly about the taste of those plump lips. But it was her huge green eyes, reflecting both amusement and reserve, that captivated Jared. He wanted to chase those reservations away and make her smile at the absurdities of life. On the occasions when she did smile, the gesture lit up her features and made her seem almost ethereal. Unattainable. It was as though smiling was an alien concept to her, which he supposed in many respects it must be.
‘When you get to know me better, you will learn that I am often ridiculous,’ he said returning her smile. ‘But I never offer false praise. That would be unkind.’
‘Grand gentlemen with the money to follow their impulses can be as eccentric as they like and everyone makes excuses for them. That includes purchasing estates on a whim. It’s different for ladies.’
‘All it requires is independence.’
‘Ah.’ She set her fork down and waved an admonishing finger at him. ‘You are suggesting that if a lady has independent means, she can choose a property at will, move into it alone and no one will raise their eyebrows.’
Jared lifted a negligent shoulder. ‘If she has reached the age of maturity, certainly she may. Her wealth will enable her to surround herself with enough servants to ensure her safety and no one will think anything of it.’
Martina sent him an incredulous look. ‘Are you suggesting that she would not be plagued by men with an eye to her fortune?’ she asked, demonstrating a maturity that defied her tender years.
‘She need not receive them if she would prefer not to.’
‘But wouldn’t that mean avoiding society? I fail to see why an unmarried lady should not enjoy her share of entertainments without people supposing that she was in need of a husband.’ Martina twitched her nose. ‘You, as a single gentleman, can show your face in society and easily avoid the matchmakers, which is the point I am attempting to make.’
‘That would rather depend upon who was trying to tempt me.’
‘Stop humourizing me.’
‘Humouring, and I was not.’
‘You are not taking the matter seriously.’
‘Oh, I take avoiding the parson’s mousetrap exceedingly seriously, I do assure you, and am reluctant to enter into an institution that appears to cause nothing but strife. I have yet to find a married couple who can stand the sight of one another.’
‘Glance around the table,’ Martina replied.
‘Ah, I take your point. I have obviously been mixing in the wrong company.’
She sent him a jaundiced look and didn’t respond.
Martina was a delightful distraction, and having her beside him improved Jared’s mood enormously. Arthur’s visit and his clumsy attempt to extract money from him had left Jared in a foul temper and he had yet to decide what to do about it. More seriously, he still couldn’t decide if Arthur was responsible for the attack he survived in London. Perhaps he and Redrow arranged it between them, which was a worrying thought.
Somehow he needed to trap Redrow into revealing his duplicity, but he was at a loss to know how. He sent Martina a sideways glance. She had a score to settle with the man as well. Not that Jared would ever enlist her help. Instead he would devise a means to gain revenge on her behalf and satisfaction on his own without her being any the wiser.
But if he found the right moment, he would question her about Redrow’s living arrangements. He had three daughters to launch on society, which didn’t come cheap, and as far as Jared was aware there was no private income to supplement his payment from the government. If Mrs Redrow had independent means, it would go some way to dissipating his suspicions.
One thing that was not in dispute was Redrow’s desperation. He would not have enlisted Arthur’s help otherwise. Being aware of that gave Jared the edge—probably—although he had yet to fathom precisely how to make use of it.
‘I beg your pardon,’ Jared said, belatedly aware that Martina had addressed a question to him but he had been too preoccupied to hear what it was that she had asked.
‘Are you all right, Mr Braden?’ she asked, concern in her tone. ‘You seem quite distracted.’
‘I am perfectly well, thank you. I apologise for my inattention. What did you ask me?’
‘Nothing of consequence.’ She toyed with her fish. ‘I must conclude that I am insufficiently mature to hold your interest, that you now regret landing yourself with me and are engaged with speculations about your hens.’
‘My hens?’ He threw back his head and roared with laughter that was drowned out by the rest of the lively conversations taking place around the table. Only the duchess appeared to notice and she smiled benignly at him. ‘I’m not sure I even have any yet.’
‘Then if you don’t mind my saying so, you should take greater interest in your domestic arrangements or you will be robbed blind.’ She sent him an impish smile. ‘One of the disadvantages of being single is that you don’t have a lady wife to supervise your poultry or keep a proper account of your linen.’
The corners of his mouth curled indolently. ‘Are you volunteering for the position?’
She waved the suggestion aside, a blush invading her high cheekbones. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘As to being uninteresting…’ He shook his head and tutted. ‘Such a lack of self-confidence, little one. You are quite the most interesting, albeit infuriatingly secretive female, at this table.’
