“Oh, yes, you can,” Kendra said heatedly.
Jason turned to her. “Is it that important to you, then? I didn’t realize your Royalist loyalty ran so deep.”
“Well…it does,” she declared, thinking about the highwayman’s broad shoulders.
“Well, then.” Ford’s deep-blue eyes gleamed with mischief. “I suppose we’ll have to leave him be. At least it provides him with a stake for the card games.”
Jason glared at their brother.
“What?” Kendra asked. “What card games?”
“All highwaymen play cards,” Jason said firmly. He picked up their own deck and shuffled it expertly, then dealt out new hands.
Kendra arranged her cards slowly, her mind not on the game.
She remembered the highwayman’s voice. He’d spoken cautiously, as though he were considering each word. Not like her family. The Chases, as a rule, blurted everything that came into their heads, generally at the tops of their lungs.
“What was his accent?” she asked. “Did you hear it?”
“Scots, aye?” Cait said, exaggerating the burr she was born to. “Though I’d guess he hasn’t been home for many a year. I’m surprised you even noticed.”
When Jason looked up sharply, Kendra pretended to study her fan of cards. He frowned back down at his own hand. “Why do you want to know?”
Why?She could scarcely comprehend such a stupid question. She wanted to know everything about the mysterious highwayman.
“Just curious,” she said lightly, leading with a jack of hearts. “Your turn.”
Two
THE DUKE OFLechmere turned out to be everything Kendra had feared and then some. He was the epitome of what she didnotwant in a husband.
His skin appeared to have never seen the sun. Only God knew what color his hair was, since it was hidden beneath a periwig dusted with enough powder to choke a horse. She suspected he was bald underneath, anyway. His eyes were a pale, lifeless gray.
Not that looks were paramount, but his suit was peacock satin, adorned with so much dangling ribbon and lace that it seemed to quiver when he breathed. No matter the current fashion, Kendra wasn’t drawn to men who wore prettier clothes than she did. A simple, dark velvet suit—like those her brothers favored—was far more to her taste. Not to mention the expense of Lechmere’s apparel could probably fund an orphanage for a month.
Having been orphaned herself at the age of seven, she would much rather have seen the money spent there.
And he was aduke.
“Kendra plays the harpsichord like an angel,” Jason said, sending her into a coughing fit. While it was true she was a competent musician, she couldn’t remember ever hearing her name and the wordangelin the same sentence. At least not from her oldest brother, who had seen her through more than a few rebellious stages.
“An admirable accomplishment.” The duke waved a hand bedecked with gaudy rings. “I should like to hear her play later.”
“And she’s a brilliant conversationalist,” Ford added, focusing on the drawing room’s carved wooden ceiling.
Interesting description,brilliant conversationalist, given that her brothers spent much of their time telling her to hush up. She would have to call Ford on that later.
After she figured out how to get rid of this mullipuff.
“Though she seems rather tongue-tied now,” Jason put in dryly. “First time in my memory.”
Sitting beside Jason in a coral velvet armchair, Kendra could barely resist kicking him. Maybe she should. Perhaps bad manners would send the duke running.
But no, she needed something more drastic. Failproof.
“In circumstances such as this, a bout of speechlessness is only to be expected,” Lechmere quipped in a haughty tone. “Though I assure you, my dear, I’m not looking for conversation.” His cold gray gaze seemed to heat as it swept her from head to toe. “I admire a quiet, biddable woman.”
Dear heavens. She’d better think of something quick. When Jason asked her to pour the wine, she rose quickly, deliberately tripping on the edge of the patterned black-and-coral carpet.
