Page 30 of Redemption of a Marquess

Her brow furrowed. “Well, not exactly.”

He lifted a brow.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right. But it’s not because you aren’t capable of it.”

He laughed. “If you are to condemn me for what I can do, instead of what I have done, you might as well sentence me to the gallows this instant.”

She shuddered. “Nothing so dramatic.”

He angled his head. “Thank you. Now, I expect you to accord Miss Matheson all the respect due my ward.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I warn you, Valan, I will not be made a fool. If I discover she is not who you say she is—”

“Your warnings are unwarranted, my dear. You may recall that I am quite strict when it comes to your reputation.”

“Well.” Peigi smoothed her skirt. “That is true.” She giggled. “Remember when you challenged poor Mr. Nicholson to a duel? I vow, I was sure you would kill him and be forced to flee to France—or worse, the Colonies.”

“I believe it is you who is now being dramatic,” he said.

“Not at all. That really was quite foolish of you. All over a kiss.”

“While I am not known for bending the truth, you are. We both know it was more than a kiss.”

Her eyes flashed. “Not so much to be worth a duel.”

“Make no mistake, that is due only to the fact that I challenged him.”

“You act as if I don’t have a brain,” she said.

He gave a low laugh. “You do, indeed, have a brain. That is what makes you so dangerous.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I see. Women are your foes because we have a brain.”

“If it were only your brains, we would be in no danger,” he said with another laugh.

She lifted her chin. “You cannot blame us for being beautiful.”

“Indeed, we can. But forget this silly debate. Come, I wish to show you my ward.”

“You brought her here?” Peigi demanded.

“Of course.” He sighed when her eyes narrowed. “Remember, Peigi, I will not compromise you. Please, have a look and you will see for yourself that she is nothing more than a child.” He rose and extended a hand toward her.

“I can never really be angry with you.” She laid a delicate hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

He led her from the drawing room and into a small study that overlooked the garden. To the far left, Miss Stone sat on the granite bench beside the rose bushes.

“Valan, she is twenty-five years old, if she’s a day—and she is so demure. I can well believe you are not dallying with her but—” She broke off when Miss Matheson came into view. “What—” She looked up at him. “Her?”

He nodded. “Her.”

Peigi returned her attention to the window. “She’s quite beautiful. You can’t expect me to believe—”

“I expect you to believe exactly what I’ve told you,” he cut in.

She cast him a startled glance, then watched Miss Matheson for another moment before turning away from the window. “Why do you need my help with the party? You have servants.”

“All fools,” he said. “They will destroy every piece of furniture I own, then burn the house down in a funerary pyre.”