How to Woo a Reluctant Lady

by Sabrina Jeffries

  Giles smiled. “Are you sure that day will come?”

  “Everything I’ve heard says that it will, and soon.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to the day when coroners know enough about their business to give reliable testimony,” Giles said drily.

  Mr. Pitney sighed. “I shall have to find that book you spoke of. Seems it’s no longer enough just to know the law, eh, sir?”

  “Very true.”

  With a bow, Mr. Pitney headed outside, leaving Giles to them. They crowded round him.

  “Remind me never to try lying to you,” Minerva teased. “You have a scary ability to sniff out the truth.”

  “You were brilliant!” Maria gushed. “Absolutely brilliant!”

  “Was I?” he drawled, casting Minerva a questioning glance.

  “You know perfectly well that you were,” she told him. “Don’t pretend to be modest about it.”

  His eyes twinkled at her. “Does that mean I’ve managed to impress you?”

  “Perhaps a little,” she said with a smile.

  “That deserves a celebration.” He glanced around at them. “This was my only trial today, so I’m free for the afternoon. I need to return to my office so I can change my clothes, but after that I thought that the four of us might wish to have a late lunch. I know the perfect place for it.”

  “Thank God,” Freddy said. “I’m famished.”

  “You’re always famished,” Maria said.

  “Mr. Jenks should join us, too,” Minerva put in, noticing the clerk’s downcast look, “since he’s been so helpful today. It hardly seems fair to leave him out.”

  “Very well,” Giles said. “Jenks, you’re going with us.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  As she took the arm Giles offered and they headed out the door, he bent to whisper, “You just made a friend for life. Law clerks don’t earn much, and they do love a good meal at someone else’s expense.”

  “Well, you’ve made a friend for life in Freddy. He loves a good meal no matter how much money he earns.”

  Their coachman brought the carriage round, and they all squeezed in. After they set off for Giles’s office, Maria said, “Mr. Masters, thank you so much for inviting us to see the trial.”

  “Was it exciting enough for you, Lady Stoneville? I hear that you like a great deal of blood and gore in your trials.”

  Maria blushed. “I suppose it was a bit lacking in that area, but it was still terribly interesting. And how clever of you to guess that Miss Tuttle was lying.”

  “It wasn’t a guess.” He took off his wig to reveal hair that was endearingly mussed. “Jenks and I spent a few hours in Ware and learned that matters weren’t quite as they seemed.”

  “But how did you even know to examine the situation more closely?” Minerva asked. “Most people would have taken the facts at face value—accepted what the coroner said and assumed that the witness was telling the truth.”

  “Not Mr. Masters,” Mr. Jenks put in, a hint of pride in his voice. “He never takes anything at face value.”

  “My client protested his innocence from the beginning,” Giles explained, “and I already knew that drowning is harder to prove than many assume. I figured that in a town like Ware, where everyone knows everyone, you’re bound to get at the truth if you ask the right questions. It only took me a few hours. It wasn’t any great effort.”

  “But I daresay many attorneys wouldn’t bother to do that much,” Maria said.

  “Certainly Mr. Pitney didn’t,” Minerva said. “And he’s the one who should have fought hard to get at the truth.”

  “I agree, Lady Minerva,” Mr. Jenks said stoutly. “It was sloppy work on Mr. Pitney’s part. At the very least, he should have questioned Miss Tuttle more thoroughly.”

  “We’ll see if you still say that when we make it to the Crown offices,” Giles said with thinly veiled amusement. “From what I hear, they work the King’s Counsels like dogs. They probably don’t have the time to investigate the way we do.”

  “Then why do you want to become a King’s Counsel?” Minerva asked. “I imagine it’s more political than lucrative.”

  His gaze burned into her. “I want to do something beyond just collecting fees. I want to see justice done. More importantly, I want to see it done fairly, which doesn’t happen nearly often enough. There are too many crimes going unpunished in this city, and too many people being punished for the wrong crimes.”

  “Hear, hear, Mr. Masters!” Maria said. “They’ll be lucky to have you.”

  Minerva thought so, too. Giles had this astonishing ability to take a hard look at a crime and uncover things that no one else might have.

  Her gaze narrowed. Yes, he did, didn’t he? Hmm.

  “What I don’t understand is why the younger Mr. Lancaster didn’t realize what his sweetheart was up to,” Maria said. “Did he want his brother to hang?”

  “No, but it didn’t occur to him that she was misguided,” Giles said. “Everyone looking at the case knew what the penalty for murder was—they just assumed that she did, too. Lawyers often forget that the average person doesn’t know the law.”

  “Mr. Masters is always saying, ‘Don’t forget that people are often more stupid than you expect,’” Mr. Jenks put in.

  “Isn’t that rather cynical?” Minerva teased Giles.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps. But you haven’t seen the slice of humanity I see every day—seasoned gamblers taken in by sharpers, shopkeepers fooled by swindlers, young women ruined by smooth-talking scoundrels. We had a bigamist in court last week—he’d managed to live two entirely separate lives and support two different families for eight years without either family catching on. His business partner uncovered the crime. These people stupidly trust those whom they shouldn’t.”

  “Oh, but you’re mixing up stupidity with love,” Maria said. “Miss Tuttle was blinded by love. The women ruined by smooth-talking scoundrels and the bigamist’s wives—they trust because they love. It’s awful that their love was betrayed.”

  “Blinded is the key word,” Giles said. “That’s why love is so often betrayed. No one with any sense should ever let love blind them.”

  Mr. Jenks steadied himself as they made a sharp turn. “That’s another thing Mr. Masters is always saying: ‘Love is for fools and dreamers. The only people who benefit from it are flower sellers and Valentine artists.’”

  “How romantic of you, Mr. Masters,” Minerva said with feigned sweetness.

  Giles winced. “Mr. Jenks, did I fail to mention that Lady Minerva is my fiancée?”

  Mr. Jenks turned an interesting shade of purple. “Oh, sir, I’m sorry, I—”

  “It’s all right,” Minerva interrupted. “Mr. Masters and I have a more practical sort of engagement.”

  “Do we?” Giles brushed her foot with his as if to remind her of the less . . . practical side of their association. “And here I thought you were mad for me.”

  “I always say that love is like the meat in a pie,” Freddy put in. “The crust is what people see—the practical things that hold a couple together. But love is the important part—without it you’ve got a meatless pie, and what’s the point of that?”

  “Why, Freddy,” Minerva said, “that was almost profound.”

  “Freddy is always profound when it comes to pie,” Maria remarked. Then she turned pensive as they drew up in front of an imposing building of gray stone. “But I think love is like the ocean. The surface may be stormy or ruffled by wind, rain may fall on it or lightning strike it, but if you sink down where the water is deep and steady, no matter what happens on the surface, you can always have a marvelous swim.”

  At those words, a long silence fell upon the carriage.

  Then Giles cast Maria a cynical smile. “Rather like a porpoise.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Except Minerva. She didn’t know how she felt about love, but she couldn’t mock it as easily as Giles. Because some part of her still believed that it
existed, that it was as beautiful and special as Maria made it sound.

  Some part of her wished she could have that with him.

  It was impossible, of course. Giles was a practical man, and this courtship was a practical matter. She’d realized it even more after watching him in the courtroom. He was destined for greater things than she’d ever imagined. That’s why he was pretending to court her—to get her to stop writing about him so his future could be secure.

  And if by some chance he decided he really did want to marry her, it would be for practical reasons, because he thought he could mold her into the kind of wife he wanted. But a King’s Counsel required a wife of pristine reputation, and she could never be that. A King’s Counsel needed a woman who had no interests beyond furthering her husband’s career, and she couldn’t be that, either. No matter what Giles claimed, he would grow to resent her need to write. It didn’t fit his world.

  As she watched him deftly answering Maria’s questions and subtly deflecting Mr. Jenks’s obvious hero worship, sadness stole over her. It had been so much easier to dismiss him when she’d thought him merely a rogue. But now that she realized he was so much more . . .

  No, she mustn’t think that way. She had a plan for her own future that didn’t involve marriage. Giles was instrumental to getting Gran to leave her alone, that’s all. So no matter how brilliant or responsible he was, she mustn’t let him get in the way of that.

  Chapter Eleven

  As they left Stephen’s Hotel, where they’d eaten lunch and parted from Mr. Jenks, Giles was fairly certain his plan to impress Minerva had worked. Still, it hadn’t seemed to soften her toward him overly much. She certainly hadn’t been her usual talkative self.

  He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Maria took Minerva’s arm and said, “You’ve been very quiet. Are you thinking about how you can use those notes you took during the trial? Do you think you’ll put any of it in your books?”

  “Nothing specific, just general information about how a court is run.” Minerva cast him a quick glance. “I keep telling you and Oliver—I only used variations on people’s real names for fun. Other than that, I don’t put anything from my real life into my books.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Maria countered. “I read that scene from The Ladies Magazine to Oliver, and he was quite put out. He was sure it was about some scandalous masquerade party attended by him and Jarret and Gabe”—she paused to look at Giles—“and probably you, Mr. Masters, since you four used to go everywhere together.”

  “No, Giles wasn’t at the party,” Minerva said hastily.

  God help him. Minerva might be able to play a part well, but she wasn’t a good liar in general.

  “So you did use that party in your book!” Maria cried in triumph. “But how would you know if Mr. Masters was there? For that matter, how would you have known enough about it to describe it? From what Oliver told me, it wasn’t the sort of party a respectable lady attends.”

  Minerva colored. “Of course I didn’t attend it, but I heard all about it from . . . various people. As for Giles, my birthday party was that same day, and he couldn’t come to it because he was in the country with his mother, so I know he couldn’t have been at that other party, because he wouldn’t have—”

  “Ah, there’s Gunter’s,” he interrupted. “Should we have some ices?” He had to stop her babbling before she spilled everything. Though she was saying all this to help him, it would have been better for her to play dumb.

  Then again, unlike him, she wasn’t used to playing dumb.

  Fortunately the conversation turned to ices and how Maria hadn’t ever had one until she’d come to England, and he was easily able to steer it further afield from there.

  But later, as they strolled down Oxford Street so Maria and Minerva could shop, Giles worried when he caught her whispering with Maria more than once.

  They seemed thick as thieves. He could only hope they weren’t continuing the discussion about the masquerade party.

  Then, just as the four of them were entering a shop for caricatures, Minerva held him back, as if she wanted to show him something in the window.

  “I’m sorry about handling that business about the party so badly,” she murmured under her breath as they stood looking into the shop window. “It threw me off guard when she said Oliver had recognized it. I never dreamed he would.”

  “Well, you did mention a Marie Antoinette costume in that passage, and Oliver has never forgotten that some chit dressed that way claimed he’d given her the pox.”

  Minerva turned an interesting shade of red. “Oh, Lord, you knew about that?”

  When he saw Maria glance from inside the shop at them, he pretended to be examining a caricature. “He’s mentioned it more than once, yes.” It always made Giles laugh, though he could never admit to Oliver the real reason for his amusement.

  “I should have known better than to put all that in the books.”

  “Yes, you should have. But it’s out there now. Nothing you can do about it.” With any luck Newmarsh would never see it, and even if he did, would never assume that Giles had been involved with it. So far, Minerva’s hints about him had been subtle enough that he didn’t think too many people would recognize him. Although Ravenswood had.

  Maria came out of the shop with Freddy in tow, and they continued down Oxford Street. As they approached Hyde Park, Freddy said, “How much longer are we going to tramp about town, Lady Minerva? I’m about to faint from exhaustion.”

  “It’s fine if you want to return to the carriage,” Minerva said. “I’d like to walk with Mr. Masters through the park, but there’s no need for you to exert yourself. You can drive round and pick us up by the barracks on the other end.”

  When Minerva exchanged a meaningful glance with Maria, Giles’s eyes narrowed. Something was afoot.

  “I believe I’ll go back with Freddy,” Maria said smoothly. “I’m tired, too.” She cast Minerva a cautioning glance. “But remember that night will be falling soon, so don’t be too long.”

  “We won’t be,” Minerva assured her.

  Giles exulted as Maria and Freddy headed off, leaving them to themselves. There was something to be said for this betrothal business. It allowed him to walk through the park alone with Minerva without reproach.

  As they headed into it, Giles said, “That was neatly handled.”

  Minerva colored. “What do you mean?”

  They were near a wooded area surprisingly devoid of walkers. He laughed. “I do love it when you play coy.” Glancing about to make sure no one was around to see, Giles pulled her into the woods and kissed her.

  She drew back, startled, but he pulled her close again for a deeper kiss. To his delight, she let him plunder her mouth for several long moments. When at last she broke the kiss, her eyes were glazed and her lips charmingly reddened.

  He brushed his mouth over her ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that from the moment you showed up in the courtroom this morning.” He kissed his way down to her throat, the only part of her neck showing in the V of the frilly lace collar she wore.

  Tilting her head back, she gave a shaky laugh. “That would have provided an interesting counterpoint to the trial, don’t you think?”

  “It probably would have had me disbarred,” he murmured against her porcelain skin. “But it would have been worth it.”

  “Flatterer,” she whispered.

  He pressed her up against a tree and proceeded to kiss her again, this time more thoroughly. She smelled and tasted of the lemon ices they’d had at Gunter’s, tart and sweet and fruity. It made him light-headed. Or perhaps just having her in his arms again did that.

  She was soft beneath him, her mouth deliciously eager to return his kisses. Though she wore the usual female layers—a violet carriage dress with petticoats and a corset and God knows what else underneath—they were all of thin fabrics because of summer. So when he slid the palm of his hand lightly over her breast, she definitely felt it,
for she moaned low in her throat. But when he thumbed the nipple to a hard tip, she pushed him away, her cheeks going rosy.

  “This wasn’t what I had in mind when I brought you to the park, Giles. I have to talk to you about something.”

  “Talk?” he muttered, the fever to touch her burning high in him as he reached for her again. “Must we?”

  “Yes, we must.” She slid from between him and the tree. “It’s important.”

  Bloody hell. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand this cat-and-mouse game. Last night he’d thought of nothing but having her in his bed, her hair twining around her curvy body, her hand on his cock as it had been in the inn yesterday, and her breasts served up for his mouth like a pair of plum puddings with currants on top.

  Fiercely he willed his erection to subside and offered her his arm. “If it’s talk you want, then let’s talk.” So I can get it out of the way and return to more important things. Like making you mine.

  “Thank you.” Taking his arm, she led him back toward the path. “It’s about Mama and Papa.”

  That banished the remains of his arousal. “Surely you haven’t had time to hear anything more about Desmond.”

  “No.” She clutched his arm. “But it occurred to me today as I watched you work that you might . . . well, notice things about what happened to my parents that no one else would.”

  “Notice things?”

  “At the hunting lodge.” When he looked blank, she added, “You know. Where they were murdered.”

  “We still don’t know for certain that they were murdered, at least not by someone else.”

  “That’s precisely my point. We know very little.” She gazed up at him with those beautiful green eyes, fringed with gold-brown lashes and dark with a sudden sorrow that clutched at him deep inside. “We ought to know more. But Gran was so eager to cover up the scandal that she never fully examined the scene.”

  “Surely the authorities did so,” he said as they headed across a swath of green toward the path that skirted the Serpentine.

  “The local constable and the coroner, yes, but you proved today that such people don’t always uncover the truth. Gran told them her version of events, and they saw enough to confirm that. According to Oliver, they took the scene at face value, helped along by her bribes.” She stared at him as if he held the key to everything. “But you wouldn’t do that. You would look at it through fresh eyes. You might notice something no one noticed before. You might see—”