Eliza was surprised. “Surely now that the war is over?”
He shook his head. “I cannot afford a wife, Mrs. North. You might applaud me for being so prudent as to put practical considerations in their rightful place.”
“You might wed an heiress and secure your future.”
Nicholas laughed easily. “I think that an unlikely scenario.”
“Why? You are a man of fine features, though you hide your gallantry…”
He leaned closer, his intensity making her words die on her tongue. “I will not wed simply for the sake of comfort, much less for the sake of conformity. Thus, I have no plans to wed at all.”
“But then you will be alone!”
“I have my sister, just as you have your brother.” His eyes narrowed in assessment. “Surely you cannot mean to wed again after losing such a great love.”
Eliza was flustered. “Who can say?”
He sipped his brandy. “Ah yes, who can say when the heart shall be captured anew?”
“You need not mock me.”
“On the contrary, Mrs. North, I admire you. How many have the confidence to follow the urging of their own hearts?” He clearly did not expect a reply, for he rose to his feet to refill his glass again. “Indeed, wedding for love seems such a feckless thing to do, that it might be precisely the kind of amusement I should like. Perhaps I should follow your example, and wed only if my heart demands it. It is wildly improbable that I should succeed in finding such an affection, of course, but I rather prefer long odds.”
“So do I,” Eliza said without meaning to do so. She spoke so resolutely that Nicholas glanced up, impaling her with his bright gaze.
“Oh, I do not believe that,” he teased. “Such frivolity, Mrs. North, seems quite out of character for you.”
“If you like long odds, you should have accepted Galveston,” Damien remarked from the doorway and the pair turned as one to regard him.
How long had he been listening?
As dark as Nicholas was golden, Damien had once looked far more wicked and disreputable. It was more than his coloring. His manner was imperious and often audacious. Eliza had to admit even as his sister that he was devastatingly handsome. The limp that was his souvenir from the war only seemed to make him more dashing. His manners were impeccable, his manner often inscrutable, and Eliza always felt that Damien had many secrets that would never come to light. Or would the right woman unfurl them? She hoped she lived to see that day.
On this morning, Damien was also unshaven but his stubble was a dark shadow on his chin and far more noticeable than Nicholas’. They were a matched pair of this day, each appearing to be as much of a rakehell as the other. Damien was leaning more heavily on his cane, she noted with concern. He visibly noted Nicholas’ choice of beverage and poured himself one of the same, then turned to Eliza. “Galveston has five thousand a year, which would keep you well enough, although the odds of him making you happy were long indeed.”
Eliza could not help but grimace, a response that made both men chuckle.
“Would it have to be ten thousand a year to abide him?” Damien teased, his eyes dancing with familiar devilry. “You took Frederick for two.”
“Two?” Nicholas echoed in mock astonishment. “This then is the price of love?”
“In your circumstance, you can scarce afford such affection,” Damien noted.
“Damien! You should not speak thus!” Eliza said, realizing too late that her words only proved Nicholas’ assessment of her nature.
“What is the point of an old friendship if we cannot be forthright with each other?” Damien demanded.
“Hear, hear,” Nicholas agreed. The pair toasted each other cheerfully and drank.
“I could not abide Galveston for a fortune, and you know it,” Eliza said with heat. Damien laughed but Nicholas watched Eliza with disconcerting intensity. She felt her color rise again.
“How intriguing, that the sensible Mrs. North can ignore practical considerations when it comes to marriage,” he noted.
“Galveston is an inoffensive man, but scarce one who might kindle the admiration of a lady,” Damien supplied, musing into his glass.
“A practical man, then?” Nicholas asked.
“Very. Undoubtedly unconvinced of the merit of love, or perhaps even affection.”
