His reaction was highly satisfactory. Nicholas choked on his drink, then regarded her over the rim of his glass. His eyes were so very blue that she could not look away. “I believe you startled me on purpose, Mrs. North.”
“Do you?” She strove for a tone of innocence but was not entirely certain of her success.
“How delightfully wicked of you.” He leaned an elbow on the table, a smile curving his lips. Eliza’s heart fluttered. “But how can you be certain of my sins?”
“Brandy at breakfast,” she said, indicating the emptied glass. “And you noted a lack of sleep yourself.”
“But the subject of fornication, Mrs. North, has not yet been broached.” He was watching her closely and could not have missed the flush of color that suffused her cheeks. Eliza had to drop her gaze to her tea and she heard him chuckle to be proven right about her reservations. “But such mischievous commentary, Mrs. North, compels me to wonder whether it is true what they say.”
“Surely you give no credence to gossip, Captain.”
“None, unless it is supported by observation.”
“And what is said and implied?”
“That the talent of those with DeVries blood for finding trouble is unrivaled—save among the daughters of the house. Is it true, Mrs. North, that the DeVries ladies are spared the wild tendencies of the sons of the line? There was a time when Haynesdale seemed incapable of consuming his fill of pleasure. Perhaps he returns to indulgence to savor your measure as well.” His brows rose. “Or perhaps the daughters are just as wild, but hide the truth rather better.”
Eliza swallowed, so keenly aware of his intent gaze that she flushed. “I wager you would like to know the truth, Captain.”
“I would, indeed, Mrs. North.”
“Suffice it to say that I should think life would be rather dull without pleasure.”
“And does a good night’s sleep count as pleasure?”
“It can.”
He laughed shortly. “You have always shown the most unnatural inclination to be sensible, Mrs. North. You will not fool me about your character.”
“It is only good sense to recognize that a sound sleep is restorative.”
“I shall take your word upon that matter.” Nicholas toasted her with his glass. “For I do not intend to discover the truth of it myself anytime soon.”
Eliza and Nicholas fell silent as Phipps brought a hot pot of tea. There was only the slight clatter of cups in saucers in the dining room as the maid set down the tray and the weight of Nicholas’ burning gaze upon Eliza. She offered a cup to Nicholas, which he declined.
Upon the maid’s departure, Nicholas spoke softly. “I am sorry. I truly am a beast.”
“You are not so bad as that.”
“You are being polite, as always you are.”
“No. I am not.”
“Not being polite now, or not always polite?”
“Both.”
“Nonsense.” Nicholas regarded her, a disconcerting warmth glimmering in his eyes. “I am certain you are the most sensible, polite and honest woman I have ever known. All the greater a riddle that you, of all women, should have wed for the impetuous fancy of love.”
Eliza caught her breath and fixed her attention upon her tea. “I fail to see the riddle in that.”
“Because love is not logical. Certainly no one could have predicted that the Reverend Frederick North, so many years your senior, would have captured your heart so securely.”
Eliza tried not to fidget beneath his bright gaze. She could not tell Nicholas the truth in this moment, not when he applauded her practicality and counted her outside the company of temptresses. “Love must be beyond explanation, then.”
“You inspire me, Mrs. North. How many other women wed against their best financial interests, simply for love alone?” Nicholas lifted his glass and the crystal sparkled as it caught the morning sunlight. “It must be devastating to lose the love of one’s life.”
“Yes, it is.” Eliza agreed quietly, though she was not speaking of Frederick. “Is that why you come to London? To seek a bride?”
