“My dear girl, if all you want are pristine reports from me on your lucky chaps, then I don’t see what help I can be to you. They all present an outward showing that is beyond reproach, which is to be expected of gentlemen of their stature. I had assumed it was the dirt swept under the carpet that you would be interested in.”
She felt warm under his censure. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. Very well, in your opinion, which fellow would make the best husband?”
“You have no particular preference?”
“Not really. I find them all attractive, personable, and quite suitable from what I have been able to learn so far. That has been my difficulty. I don’t know which one I should concentrate on to get this matter settled.”
Anthony relaxed again, sitting back and casually placing his arm along the back of the sofa, just behind her head. She didn’t seem to notice. She was impatiently waiting for him to answer her question, while he was going to carefully avoid doing so.
“It might help if you tell me what attributes you favor,” he suggested.
“An easy temperament, a gentle hand, sensitivity, intelligence, patience, as I’ve said—”
“Delightful.” His grin was wickedly maddening. “You’ll be bored to tears, my dear, which will have us more intimately acquainted much sooner than I expected.” Her pursed lips and scathing gaze elicited a chuckle, not in the least contrite. “You were saying?”
“There is also a marriage contract that must be signed,” she said tightly. “It will prohibit my husband from having complete control over me or my holdings.”
“Your idea?”
“My grandfather’s. He was a stubborn old man with set ways. Since he was leaving his fortune to me, he wanted to make certain it stayed with me and wasn’t put in the hands of some stranger he might or might not have approved of. He had the contract drawn up before he died.”
“If he was so particular, why didn’t he arrange you a marriage?”
Her look was wistful. “We had a special bond, Anthony. I didn’t want to leave him while he still lived, and he would never have forced me to.”
He smiled at her use of his name, slipping out without thought. It proved she was more comfortable with his company. She had even bent one knee to turn toward him while she spoke, more or less facing him now. It would be so easy to let his arm drop to her shoulders and draw her near
Anthony shook himself mentally. “It’s a moot point really. The only one I can think might object to this contract is Savage. Not that he’ll be coveting your fortune. He’s well enough off, I believe, for wealth not to be a criterion when he weds. But he’s not a man who likes to have limitations placed on him. Still, if he wants you, it shouldn’t matter.”
“Then you recommend him?”
“My dear, I can safely say intelligence is the only criterion of yours that he meets. In fact, none of these chaps will meet every one of the qualities you’re looking for. Warton, I suppose, comes closest to the mark, but if you marry him, you’ll also be marrying his mother—that is, if she’ll even allow him to marry. I’ve never seen a woman hold the strings so tightly as that formidable lady.”
Roslynn was frowning long before he had finished speaking. “Very well, don’t recommend one. Just tell me what you know of the others.”
“Easy enough. Let’s see, shall we start with Fleming? Affectionately known as the bungling viscount, since he must be doing something wrong that no woman will ever be seen with him twice, but perhaps you’ll be the exception. He’s soft. Some have evencalled him a coward. Seems he was challenged once by a young man to a duel but wouldn’t accept. Never did learn the reason for it. Has he shown a definite interest?”
Actually, he hadn’t, but that was not the issue here. “Next?”
Anthony chuckled at her avoidance in answering his query. No need to tell her yet that young Fleming’s fancy leaned toward those who wore boots, rather than satin slippers. If she could get the fellow to marry her, which he doubted, she would very quickly be looking outside the marriage bed for a lover.
“The Earl of Dunstanton is a likable enough chap; he just has a way with words that can cut a man to shreds. He seems to be beset with tragedy, however, what with three dead wives in the space of the past five years. It’s not common knowledge, but with the death of each wife his estate has doubled.”
“You’re not suggesting—”
“Not at all,” he assured her, taking advantage of her distracted alarm to bring his knee up to where it just touched hers. “It’s no more than mere speculation bandied about by envious chaps not so well off.”
The seed had been planted, even if it wasn’t accurate. Two of the wives had died in childbirth, which truly was a tragedy, occurring one after the other. The third had fallen off a cliff, messy business, but the earl certainly wasn’t culpable unless he had it within his power to produce the freak storm that had spooked the lady’s horse and led to her fall.
“What about Sir Artemus?”
“Loves to gamble, but don’t we all.” This said with a wink. “And you’d have a ready-made family if you go with him. He has dozens of little tykes—”
“I was told there were only five children!”
“Five who claim legitimacy. Yes, you’d have your hands full, and very little help from Shadwell, since he tends to forget the fact that he even has children. Are you planning to have some of your own?”
The blush did it, so utterly becoming that Anthony’s good intentions flew straight away. His hand slipped to her neck, and without moving, he drew her full against his chest, fingers sliding up into her hair so he could position her mouth to receive his kiss.
