FOR AT LEAST THE THIRDtime this morning, Jonathan’s valet, Jenkins, jerked the cut-throat blade he wielded away from Jonathan’s cheek.Jonathan’s frequent movements endangered if not his life, then at least his looks.
To say he was distracted was an understatement.He had tried to review the previous evening dispassionately...and failed...repeatedly.Why was a logical man of education and reason behaving like a schoolboy with a crush on one of his sister’s spotty friends?
What was it about Miss Jane Brody that captured his imagination and his admiration?She was opinionated, argumentative, and infuriating.She was beautiful, intelligent, articulate, and captivating.
He was in big trouble.Heneededa wife who could fulfill a multitude of household and social duties.Hewanteda wife who supported his political activities and views, as well as one willing to provide him with the necessary heir and preferably other sons.He wouldlikea wife who loved him.
He suspected Miss Brody would not willingly do any of those things.
Finally, Jenkins finished his task.Jonathan impatiently tugged the towel from his shoulders and surged to his feet.He must do something to distract himself.Ordering Jenkins to be quick, Jonathan stood impatiently as his cravat was tied, then struggled into his well-cut coat.
Within minutes he was exiting his house for an early session at the only boxing gymnasium open at this time of year.Arriving when he did, Jonathan had the full attention of the instructor.A half hour of sparring occupied his mind with pugilistic moves, but the problem of Jane Brody still arose from the depths of his subconscious as he dressed.
He strode down the road in the direction of his club.How to resolve his conundrum—his attraction to a woman who was unsuitable in so many ways—even if he could convince her to marry him?And why was he so instantly attracted to her?Such a thing had never happened to him before.
He barely registered the passing scene, his pace matching the speed of his thoughts.As he reached the entrance to White’s, a hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“Good Lord, Dalton, I’ve been hailing you for the last few minutes.Had the devil of a time catching you.”The stocky gentleman looked all John Bull, but quite annoyed.
“Very sorry, Marchmere, I was lost in my thoughts.No offense intended,” Dalton responded tersely.
“Must have been, to have ignored my shouting.Lucky I don’t take offense.Thinking of a bird of paradise, I’ll be bound!”He laughed in too hearty a way.
“Not at all, Marchmere.”Dalton’s mouth thinned at the assumption.“Let’s get in off the street.The doorman is getting tired of standing with the door open for us.”
They entered the club and were greeted by several other acquaintances seated at a table near the window, some of them members of the House of Lords.Viscount Travener, blond and dapper, had a reputation as someone who loved to tease his fellows.Mrs.Courtice was his aunt by marriage, and he had briefly joined the ball last night.With a glint of amusement in his eye, he announced to the group that Dalton had been paying particular attention to Mary Wollstonecraft’s disciple.
“You mean Miss Brody, I presume?”asked Marchmere.
“Indeed, I do.Was only at the charity ball for a short while but long enough to see Dalton waltz the bluestocking out onto the balcony.”Travener smirked knowingly.
The men laughed at the idea of Dalton, an aristocrat adhering to the stricture of social propriety, being enamored by a bluestocking of the worst sort, a revolutionary of the first order.
“What’s your game, Dalton?”asked Marchmere.“If it’s marriage, she won’t have you.Is seduction on your mind then?”
Anger at the slight to Miss Brody bubbled in his veins.“I hardly think one dance with Miss Brody constitutes either a marriage proposal or a seduction,” Jonathan answered.He retrieved his gold pocket watch from his waistcoat in a show of nonchalance and said through gritted teeth, “And I merely escorted her to some fresh air.”
“Not how it looked,” responded the viscount blithely, suppressed laughter still teasing his lips upward.
“Have it how you wish.”Dalton’s answer was bland, in the hope the topic would die from lack of fuel.He pocketed his watch.
Marchmere, however, looked keenly interested.His next comment showed Jonathan that his political savvy was engaged.“Would be a good thing if a man like you could derail her, you know.Nothing better to sink her cause than engaging her in a scandalous affair.”
“I doubt she would be interested in that,” Jonathan said, still hopeful that he could end the subject.
“Give it a try anyway,” Marchmere said.“Never know how lucky you might be.If you don’t want to be saddled with her as a mistress, attractive little thing that she is, just seduce her or compromise her publicly.All the same result.She and her bluestocking friends will be discredited by the scandal.No one would take any notice of her pamphlets then.She would be seen as another immoral woman, just like Wollstonecraft.”Marchmere glared at Jonathan, as though daring him to challenge his idea.
Such calculated seduction and entrapment made Jonathan’s fist itch to black Marchmere’s eye and wipe the smirk off his face.Viscount Travener looked uncomfortable at the direction the conversation had taken.He turned from them to hail a passing acquaintance and stepped away to speak with him.
Jonathan drew a calming breath.“I won’t be seducing Miss Brody, Marchmere.I’m not a seducer of innocent young ladies.”
“How do you know that you’re the first, hmm?Well, keep it in mind, Dalton.You would be doing all of us in the House a favor if you could keep her distracted and not publishing inflammatory leaflets, firing up women.We have enough trouble with the lower classes without the bluestockings weighing in.You have a political career to pursue.High office requires some sacrifices to the cause.”Marchmere laughed in his strident way.
Jonathan still seethed with anger but knew not to respond and create a scene—nor a dangerous enemy.He nodded instead.“Good day to you, Marchmere.I see a friend beckoning me.”He walked quickly away to the farthest end of the reading room and took up a newspaper left on a table.Without a word, he opened the broadsheet and closed himself off from his surroundings.He tried scanning the page in front of him but failed to read a word.
What would happen if he did seduce Miss Brody?She would undoubtedly lose all credibility if it was discovered or even suspected.If he convinced her to marry him, then she wouldn’t be ruined by salacious gossip, but she might lose those of her followers who felt she had abandoned their belief in independent lives for women.Either way, she would lose, but maybe she would be willing to accept his proposal at some future date if he courted her.
He turned a page of the newspaper, but continued to stare blindly at the broadsheet.The thought of following Marchmere’s advice and intentionally ruining Jane Brody appalled him.No woman deserved that.Granted, it would do his political career no harm to dally with her or undermine her appearance of virtue and reason.What would he gain really, except her contempt, if he didn’t already have that?It still bemused him that he was so attracted to someone so obviously unsuitable to his role as a peer of the realm and politician.
