Pride and Pleasure
“You are completely inappropriate for her,” the earl went on.
“Agreed.”
Jasper looked for Eliza and found her. She appeared composed, if slightly irritated. The frown marring her brow betrayed both her peevishness and bemusement. He smiled, appreciating her artless honesty.
“She would be better served with me,” Westfield said. “How can any woman live the life you do, Bond?”
“I expect Miss Martin and I will discover the answer as time progresses.”
Westfield stepped forward, then turned to face him, effectively taking up the entirety of his view. “Is there anything you will not do in your quest to ruin Montague?”
“This has nothing to do with Montague.”
“Of course it does.”
“On the periphery,” Jasper conceded, sidestepping to resume his viewing of Eliza.
“Wait.” The earl moved in front of him again. “Were you talking about her last night? That nonsense about wanting something badly?”
“Yes.” He wanted her now. Eliza had worn another of her mother’s gowns, this one in a lovely rose hue. It was as simple in cut as the sapphire gown she’d worn days ago, but the bodice was provocatively low and the waist perfectly snug. The slender beauty of her figure was a joy to behold.
“Bloody hell.” Westfield looked over his shoulder at Eliza. “Do you love her?”
“I enjoy her, and I can make her happy.”
“I doubt you can. Not for the long term. And how does enjoyment signify? I enjoy half a dozen women any given fortnight, yet you don’t see me proposing to any of them.”
“Therein lies the difference between us,” Jasper drawled. “There are very few things I’ve enjoyed in my life, and none to the degree with which I enjoy Miss Martin’s company.”
“Now, you have me intrigued,” Westfield complained. “I’ll forever be wondering what I missed about Miss Martin.”
“No, you will not. You’ll forget about her in any other capacity than as my wife, and that will be the end of it.”
“Hmm…” Westfield turned around, searching. “I have yet to see Montague. I should like to know how he’s taking the news of your engagement.”
Jasper didn’t care what Montague thought.
The moment the realization hit, his spine straightened and his breath hissed out between his teeth. Shifting his position, he canted his body away from Eliza, his hands flexing at his sides. Soon, he would be able to put Montague behind him, but not now. Not yet. The earl had still to pay for his sins and the sins of his father.
Eliza. She made him forget himself, which was one of the reasons why he needed her. But she couldn’t serve that purpose now. Not yet. His plan was in the final stages after years of frustrated waiting and endless hours of work.
“Mr. Bond.”
Turning his head, Jasper watched as Sir Richard Tolliver approached. Although Jasper had believed Tolliver couldn’t be any thinner, it appeared he was tonight. His dark coat hung loosely on his shoulders and his modestly embroidered waistcoat gaped a little just above the top button. “Good evening, Sir Richard.”
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Tolliver said, looking far from congratulatory.
“They are. Thank you.”
“How fortuitous that Miss Martin should decide to marry so soon after you returned to her life. Almost as if she were waiting for you these last few years.”
“Poetic,” Westfield drawled. “Perhaps if you’d shared your talent for romantic thought and turns of phrase with Miss Martin, you might have had more luck with her.”
“What talent did you share?” Tolliver shot back, glaring at Jasper.
“Be very careful when maligning me,” Jasper warned softly. “Should you inadvertently cast aspersions on Miss Martin’s character, I assure you, I won’t take it well.”
Tolliver’s foot tapped against the floor. “Your long familial friendship with the Tremaines makes it decidedly odd that Miss Martin can share little about you.”
“Cannot? Or will not?” Jasper challenged. “She understands the value of privacy. It’s one of the many qualities she and I have in common. Now, cease being a nuisance. Go find a new heiress to woo.”
Tolliver remained in place for a long moment. Finally, he spoke between clenched teeth, “Good evening, Mr. Bond. And to you as well, my lord.” He turned about and stalked away.
“You’re making friends already,” Westfield said, staring after Tolliver. “I have to say, I never guessed he had such forcefulness in him. Perhaps his feelings for Miss Martin were true after all.”
“Nothing so sublime.” Jasper rolled his shoulders back. This was what he’d wanted—to attract the attention of whoever was endangering Eliza. But he hadn’t anticipated the feeling of jealousy. Tolliver had roused his proprietary instincts and his discomfort was certain to worsen as time progressed.
The sound of Montague’s name being bandied around them drew Jasper’s attention toward the farthest entrance. “He came,” he murmured. “I’d begun to doubt he would.”
“Look at this place.” Westfield gestured with a jerk of his chin. “Lady Valmont hasn’t enjoyed a gathering of this size in many years. The curious come en masse to see Miss Martin’s transformation and the man responsible for it. She changed her appearance for you, did she not?”
“She did it for the investigation. At first.” Jasper gave himself permission to look at her again. He was torn between his two goals—winning Eliza’s hand and staying focused on his vengeance. “Tonight, I think she did it for me.”
“So she was being truthful when she said she had feelings for you?” Westfield snorted. “What in God’s name does she see in you?”
“I wish I knew. I would show her more of it.”
Montague’s progress through the room was marked by a noticeable ripple in the throng. He was heading toward Eliza, who stood on the opposite side of the room.
Jasper started in that direction. Westfield fell in line. They worked their way through the crowd, their path repeatedly blocked by one inquisitive well-wisher after another.
“Is your marriage a sign that Montague’s destruction is now assured?” the earl asked.
“Not yet. I have learned he’s forming a pool of investors for a coal mine speculation.” Jasper grabbed a glass of lemonade from the tray of a passing footman.
“Is that what shored up his confidence about his finances and prompted him to contact me about retrieving his marker?”
“I hope to know the answer tomorrow. Either he’s falling deeper into ruin or digging himself out of it.”
Westfield grabbed his elbow and pulled him to a halt. “Bond.”
Jasper’s brows rose in silent inquiry.
“Have you considered embracing your new life with Miss Martin and leaving Montague’s future to fate? In my experience, deserving fellows have a way of finding their own sorry end.”
“I am Montague’s end,” Jasper said, before tossing back the contents of his glass. He started forward again, lamenting the beverage’s inability to make the scrutiny directed his way more tolerable.
“I am so happy for you.” Lady Collingsworth beamed like a proud parent. Dripping in sapphires and adorned with white plumes in her hair, she carried herself with the sort of regal confidence that supported such accessories instead of depended upon them.
“Thank you.” Eliza ran a hand over her unsettled stomach.
“I admire you for following your heart,” Regina went on. “I know how difficult the decision to marry was for you.”
“I’ve tried to understand why it is so hard for me and not for so many others. Certainly I am not privy to information other women do not have.”
“Of course you are. Only you lived with your mother.”
Eliza’s eyes widened. It was the closest the countess had ever come to speaking harshly about Georgina.
“Why do you look so surprised, dear? I’m aware of how you feel about your mother and her choices. She wed two different men because she cared for them, and neither marriage ended well. The fact that her second husband was a fortune hunter sealed your opinion of matrimony. I understand the preconceptions you had to overcome before accepting Mr. Bond’s proposal.” Regina looked past Eliza, focusing on something or someone behind her. “I can only hope that the indecent way he looks at you had a hand in your capitulation. I do believe his regard elevates the temperature in the room.”
“Regina!” Eliza resisted the urge to glance at Jasper, knowing if she did, she would become flushed and distracted. All evening long, he’d been staring at her as if she was naked.
“Stuff,” the countess retorted. “What happens in the privacy of the marital bed is of equal importance to what happens outside of it. A marriage cannot thrive if there is disharmony in the bedroom.”
“Can it survive if pleasure is all there is?”
“My dear girl, pleasure is what is lacking in most marriages. Don’t take it for granted.”
“It seems so frivolous a reason,” Eliza muttered.
“You are too smart to make frivolous decisions. I’m certain if you made a list of Mr. Bond’s good and bad points, you would find the good far outweighs the bad.”
No longer able to resist looking at Jasper, Eliza turned her head to find him. En route, her attention was caught by a familiar tall figure. The Earl of Montague was cutting through the crowd, his handsome face lit with a charming grin. Although he was frequently held back by those who wished to greet him, it was obvious he was on a direct path to her.
“Montague seems to be in good spirits,” Regina noted. “It was good of you to tell him directly about your engagement to Mr. Bond.”
“Leaving the matter to Melville would have been too distant and insincere.” Eliza offered a smile to Regina that was filled with heartfelt gratitude. “I wouldn’t have had the courage to meet with him without you. Thank you for accompanying me.”
“Accompanying you where?”
Eliza was warmed by the sound of Jasper’s voice behind her. The occupants of the room receded, her awareness of the noise fading into insignificance. She faced him. “To the park this afternoon.”
“For a meeting with Montague?”
“Yes. To tell him about our engagement.”
A shadow passed over Jasper’s features. “You should not have done that.”
She stiffened at his tone, unaccustomed to being gainsaid. “It was the least he deserved.”
“You have no notion of what he deserves.”
“Bond.” Westfield’s low, warning tone stole Eliza’s attention. She looked at the earl, who stood just beyond Jasper’s left shoulder. Like Montague, Westfield cut a dashing figure, and when he looked at her, his eyes were kind.
Two peers. Both were attractive, solicitous, and willing to marry her. Yet she had chosen the wild commoner of indeterminate origins. A man she could never hope to tame. She felt a frisson of disquiet over her decision.
Jasper’s jaw tensed, as if he sensed her sudden confusion. The affection that had been in his eyes when they’d first reunited this evening was far less evident now. To her, the distance between them seemed almost tangible.
Regina cleared her throat. “Perhaps you might accompany me to the drinks table, Lord Westfield. My throat is dry.”
“Of course.” The earl shot a meaningful glance at Jasper, before leading Lady Collingsworth away.
Jasper stepped closer to Eliza. “How can I protect you when you deliberately put yourself in danger?”
“What danger? I met with Lord Montague in public, with Lady Collingsworth in attendance. Your men were certainly somewhere nearby. Or were they not? Is that why your mood is so foul?”
“You hired me to investigate your suitors. Then you meet with one privately to tell him he’s losing any chance of laying claim to your money, putting him in a desperate position!”
“What could he have done?”
“Abscond with you. Hold you for ransom. Anything.”
“Montague?” she scoffed. “A man of his station would not—”
“You don’t know him, Eliza, or what he is capable of.”
“And you do?”
“Stay away from him.”
Her brow rose. “Is that an order?”
Jasper’s jaw clenched. “Don’t turn this into a battle of wills.”
“You are attempting to limit my freedom. It’s unreasonable to expect me not to fight for it.”
He caught her by the elbows and tugged her scandalously close, as if they were alone and not surrounded on all sides by prying eyes. “I am attempting to keep you safe.”
“Your advice is duly noted.” Eliza knew she was goading his temper, but his clipped responses made her wonder if she wasn’t giving him precisely what he wanted. He seemed to be spoiling for a fight.
“You must heed me.” His eyes were so dark, they were nearly black.
“Your concern is unfounded. I foresee no occasion where Lord Montague and I would have cause to meet again outside of social settings.”
“Cause or not, I want you to keep your distance.” He released her. “From Tolliver, as well.”
Irritation swelled within her. “Tell me why.”
“Tolliver is not taking the news of our engagement well.”
“And Montague? He smiled when I told him and wished me happy.”
“He cares for no one’s happiness but his own.”
“And I’m just to take your word for this, with no explanation provided?”
“Yes.”
“Already exerting your husbandly right to control me in whatever manner you see fit?” Her grip on her fan tightened to the point that the wood creaked in protest.