Pride and Pleasure

by Sylvia Day

  “Ah, good morning, Mr. Bond.”

  The butler bowed and stepped aside, exposing the slender woman who’d been hidden by his tall frame. Eliza sat at a walnut desk so large she appeared dwarfed behind it. Her gaze was downcast, her hair piled high in soft curls, and her shoulders partially hidden by the fine lace decorating a modest bodice.

  Jasper entered fully and moved to one of the two carved wooden chairs facing the desk. Before he sat, he glanced down at what occupied her. Ledgers. She worked over them studiously, filling the columns with impressive speed and painfully neat numerals.

  “Once again,” she murmured, “you are precisely on time.”

  “Another of my faults?” he asked.

  She glanced up at him, studying him beneath the veil of thick auburn lashes. “Would you care for tea?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She set her quill aside and waved the butler away. “The trait of punctuality simply tells me that you value time. It suggests you will value mine as well, which I appreciate.”

  “What else do you value, Miss Martin?”

  “I fail to see how that signifies.”

  Jasper smiled. “If I am to be a lovelorn swain or even simply a fortune hunter who has set his cap for you, I am expected to know things about you.”

  “I see.” A slight wrinkle marred the space between her brows, then she said, “I value my privacy, solitude, the books in my library, my horse, and my money.”

  He watched the way her fingertips tapped lightly atop the ledger in front of her. “You keep your own accounts?”

  “As my father did before me.”

  “Why have you not wed?”

  Eliza sat back and crossed her arms. “Are you married, Mr. Bond?”

  “Jasper,” he corrected, wanting to hear his given name spoken in her soft, yet steely voice. “And no, I’m not married.”

  “Then I ask the same question of you. Why have you not wed?”

  “The manner in which I live my life doesn’t lend itself to matrimony. I keep odd hours and odder company.”

  “Hmm…Well, I have not wed because I’ve yet to find an individual whose company is worth the expense.” She lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug. “Frankly, marriage for me is an extremely expensive proposition. In addition to the loss of control over my own funds, I’d be agreeing to spend an inordinate amount of time with another person. It makes me odd, I know—or perhaps it just makes me a Tremaine—but I find socializing with others is more exhausting than refreshing. I have to consider everything I want to say, and then filter it through my mind before I speak so what emerges from my mouth doesn’t offend with its bluntness.”

  And there it was, the key to wooing her into bed: encourage her to be herself. Not a problem for him at all, since he enjoyed her unpolished pronouncements and reasoned judgments. He looked forward to the challenge of unveiling the woman beneath the brain.

  “Eliza,” he purred, watching her reaction to his uninvited familiarity—the slight dilation of her irises, the unaffected flutter of her lashes, and the quickening tempo of the pulse visible at her throat. “I must confess, I was very much looking forward to our meeting this morning precisely because of what emerges from your mouth.”

  Which led to thoughts of what else he liked about that particular feature. Such as the full curve of her bottom lip, and the way it pursed lightly when he goaded her. Even the way it moved when she spoke. The things he wanted to do to that mouth shocked even him. He wanted to feel it move over his skin, whispering lewd taunts and pressing soft kisses. Teasing. Suckling….

  He inhaled sharply, displeased for the first time in his life with the finely honed instincts he’d long relied on to survive. It was one thing to be sexually aware of a woman—something he found quite stimulating and enjoyable. It was quite another to be physically affected by that awareness.

  “It’s rare,” he continued, forcing his thoughts back to the business at hand, “for a client to be so forthcoming. It makes my efforts far more effective when they are.”

  Her head tilted to the side, causing two curls to sway beside a delicately shaped ear. She seemed prepared to speak, but then she didn’t. Instead, she withdrew a piece of paper from beneath her leather-bound ledger and offered it to him.

  He leaned forward and accepted it, turning it around so he could read what was written. As with her bookkeeping, the columns were neat and tidy, yet the way in which she formed her letters was different. Highly slanted as opposed to straight, elongated at the highs and lows, bleeding at the point of ink refill as if she was too hurried to shake off the excess properly. He mulled this over as he read—the care over numerals versus the carelessness over proper names was telling. The list catalogued her suitors by peerage rank—if applicable—as well as length of suit, age, brief but concise physical descriptions, and anomalous traits such as throat clearing and nose twitching. He would easily be able to put a name to a face with the information she provided.

  “I’m impressed with the thoroughness of your observation skills,” he praised, looking up at her.

  A ghost of a smile curved her lips, making him realize he had yet to see her smile in truth. “Thank you. I came to the conclusion last evening that this would be my final Season. I secured an agreement from my uncle long ago that six Seasons would be all he’d ask of me…but I was undecided about holding him to the promise. He asks so little of me, after all.”

  “I see.” He should feel no guilt in enjoying her, then. He would not be ruining her if she was seated firmly on the shelf.

  “And so I’ve also decided to utilize your services for the entirety of the six weeks remaining in this Season, Mr. Bond. If you will advise me of the cost of securing your services for that length of time, I’ll see you are paid by the end of the day tomorrow.”

  Jasper leaned back in his chair, considering. There was something about the way she eyed him that set off a quiet alarm. He appreciated being paid for services rendered—as anyone did—but he wondered if more than the balance of her accounts and a wish to absolve a debt was motivating her. He’d dealt with members of the peerage who felt the act of paying him put him in his place. Once he’d accepted money, he was no longer a businessman but a commodity they had rights and power over. In most instances, he cared not at all what clients told themselves to assuage their pride. In this case, he would not allow Eliza to think she could control him with her money.

  “We have an agreement,” he said, smiling slightly to soften the rigidity of his position on the matter. “A fortnight without pay. If I have satisfied you at that time, you may make restitution then.”

  There was a flash of wariness in her blue eyes. Barely there and then gone. “But I do not intend to replace you.”

  “Excellent. I do not intend to be replaced.” He held the list aloft. “Did you, perchance, put these in order of most suspicious to least likely?”

  “Yes, of course.” She stood and rounded the desk.

  He rose quickly, watching in surprise as she settled into the seat beside him. She leaned over the armrest and gestured for him to sit. “If you have any questions, I’m most willing to answer them to the best of my ability.”

  As Jasper lowered himself back into the chair, he inhaled the rather exotic scent of her perfume, appreciating how different it was from her modest mode of dress. She was a study in contradictions, from her appearance to her voice to her handwriting. “Why is the Earl of Montague so near the bottom?”

  Eliza’s head tilted so she could better see where he pointed. It was the closest proximity they’d shared yet, affording him the opportunity to note the smattering of light freckles over the bridge of her nose. “Why shouldn’t he be within the ‘least likely’ section? His lordship is handsome and charming and—”

  “Desperately in debt.” It was by dint of will alone that he managed not to crush the foolscap in his hand. What natural attraction he felt for her was increased by a sense of possessiveness. Damned if Montague would g
et his hands on Eliza or her money.

  “Yes. I know. But so are many of the men on the list. Those who are not in debt are of limited means.” She saw his raised brows and another slight smile curved her lips. “I’ve looked into the circumstances of every gentleman who calls upon me, even the ones whose motives are clear straightaway.”

  “And how did you manage that?”

  “I may not have a bookkeeper, Mr. Bond—”

  “Jasper,” he corrected, yet again.

  Her shoulders went back. “Such familiarity is inappropriate in business dealings.”

  “Not so.” It appeared he was correct about her wish for distance. “And especially not in this instance. You should be more than a little fond of me. I collect that you find it difficult to contemplate, since I am not your type of male, but the use of given names and time spent in my company will help to alleviate any awkwardness you might feel, creating a more believable presentation.”

  “You said to leave that aspect of the plan to you.”

  “Quite right. I will lead, you will follow.” He used the tone of voice that never failed to pull others into line. He knew if he gave Eliza the slightest opportunity, she would run roughshod over him. “Now, about how you acquired your information…?”

  Her lips pursed. Clearly she was not a woman used to being managed. Been allowed to run amok, that one, Lynd had said. Jasper wouldn’t change that about her, even if afforded the opportunity, but he also wouldn’t be led around by the nose.

  “I have a man of affairs,” she said, “who makes discreet inquiries for me as necessary. One cannot be too careful.”

  Jasper leaned back, settling into a comfortable position to better enjoy the conversation. “And what sort of information did you glean from these inquiries? Were you made aware of the full extent of Lord Montague’s debts?”

  “I know enough to be wary.”

  “Then why put him in such an elevated position on your list?”

  “As I said, he is charming and could certainly secure a better match than me. I think he uses me to make other women jealous. My mother used to say, ‘there’s nothing so attractive as a man who belongs to another woman.’ Montague may be financially troubled, but few know that. He’s managed to hide it well. And he is handsome enough to cover many faults in some women’s eyes.” Her gaze narrowed, and she raked him from head to toe. “In fact, you two are similar in height and coloring. Build, too, although he is not nearly as…broad.”

  It took great effort not to tense and betray his unease at her perceptiveness. “And yet you claimed others would see me and know straightaway I was not like your other suitors at all.”

  “You have an astonishingly good memory, Mr. Bond.”

  “Jasper.”

  She took a deep breath. “Your sharp recollection is laudable…Jasper.”

  “Thank you, Eliza.” He held back a satisfied smile at the tiny bit of progress. “I’ve found the skill quite useful. But I confess, I’m perplexed by your contradictory statements.”

  “I said there were similarities, but they are not overly evident.” She didn’t intend for her perusal to be invigorating, but it most definitely was. “He is handsome, yes. As are you. But you are flamboyantly so. It’s astonishing really, the way the first sight of you arrests the brain. Whenever I initially catch sight of you, it takes a moment to pull my thoughts together.”

  “I am gratified you find me appealing.” And relieved that the fraternal similarities she’d noted were so quickly dismissed.

  “Fustian. I’m certain you must be accustomed to all the attention by now. What is it like, by the way? Having people admire you when you enter a room or pass them by?”

  “I don’t notice such things.”

  “Truly?”

  “I am usually intent on whatever purpose I have for being in any given location or situation.”

  “Oh, I see.” Eliza nodded. “Yes, you are quite focused. Intensely so. It’s another trait distinguishing you.”

  He swiftly utilized the avenue provided by her curiosity. “Tomorrow, I intend to take you to the Royal Academy of Art. You can see for yourself how others perceive me.”

  “An outing?” She frowned. Oddly, he liked that as much as her hint of a smile. Her face was so expressive, it took much of the guesswork out of wondering what was on her mind. “I suppose that’s the best way to expose me and lure the culprit out.”

  “I would never use you as bait. It’s my intention to become the target instead.” He took care to fold the list neatly. “Over the next several weeks, you and I will be spending a great deal of time together. The more you are seen with me, the bigger a threat I will become.”

  She watched him tuck the folded paper into a pocket of his waistcoat.

  “In addition,” he went on, “I will need to meet with your man of affairs.”

  “Why?”

  “Some men do not appreciate having their private matters examined, discreetly or not. And I must ask about your investments and Lord Melville’s activities.”

  Her face took on an appearance of great interest. “You suspect another motivation.”

  “It’s a possibility. Malicious intent can be incited by many things: love, money, and vengeance are at the top of the list. You are wealthy, others are not. If any of your investments or ventures has caused an individual to feel wronged, there is motive there. If anyone holds ill-will toward Melville, hurting someone close to him could be motive as well.” Jasper held her gaze. “Personally, I can understand why someone would go to great lengths to win you. But to take it to the point of injury against you…I cannot wait to learn the identity of our mystery assailant. I anticipate that introduction with great relish.”

  Eliza did not appear to be alarmed by his fervent hope for violence. “I’m grateful for your attention to the task.”

  “You would not accept anything less.”

  She stood, and he stood with her. Her head tilted back to maintain eye contact. “Mr. Lynd and the Runner I hired both seemed to think I was daft. It isn’t a pleasant feeling to be treated as mentally inferior. It was a brief glimpse, I suppose, of what Melville bears with terrible frequency.”

  “Is that one of the reasons why you resist marriage? For your uncle’s benefit?”

  “No. He’s quite capable of caring for himself, at least to the extent that he employs a trustworthy and efficient staff to manage the minutiae he has no patience for.” Her gaze moved to the clock on the mantel. “Today I am at home to callers. Will you be one of them?”

  “Will it settle your mind if I am?”

  Her head gave a slight shake. “Here at home, I feel safe enough.”

  “Then I shall refrain. I think it will be more effective if I’m not one of the many. Tomorrow will be our first public appearance together, and you will be granting me your undivided attention. That will establish my connection with you in a more prominent way. We’ll require a chaperone who gossips. Do you know of someone who will suffice?”

  “I’ll see to it. What do I say to those who ask about you? What reply can I give to inquiries about your people and situation?”

  He breathed in her scent with a deep inhalation, one last delay before revealing a truth no one else knew. “You may tell them I am the nephew of the late Lord Gresham of County Wexford, and our families are old friends from long ago.”

  “Oh…”

  Jasper knew little of his mother’s relations. Diana Gre-sham had been disowned after her pregnancy became evident, a circumstance affording her no way out of the hell she’d died in. When Jasper tracked Gresham down years later, the only regret he felt at learning of his lordship’s recent passing was that he’d lost the opportunity to repay his uncle in kind.

  “You are a conundrum, aren’t you?” Eliza said softly. “I should like to figure you out.”

  “If you have a question, ask me.”

  “Will you answer?”

  That made him smile. When he heard her breath catch, his inner
predator licked its lips and purred. For all her protests regarding the suitability of his appearance, it was undeniable that it pleased her. “My past and my future are irrelevant. You have my present. In that, yes, ask away. I will answer.”

  “I knew you would be troublesome, Mr. Bond.”

  “Jasper.”

  “But I believe you will resolve my dilemma, and I find a measure of relief in that.” Rounding the desk, she resumed her seat. Her manner changed, became distant. She opened a drawer and withdrew a small book. “Here is a copy of my social calendar for the remainder of the Season as it stands so far. I will keep a list of future invitations I accept.”

  “Your thoroughness is admirable.”

  “I think you and I shall work well together. Is there anything else? Or are we finished for today?”

  He found himself wanting to linger, knowing it was still early in the day and the most interesting part of it would now be behind him. “These lists are sufficient at present. I’ll need to be apprised of the other matters we discussed—your investments, your man of affairs, and anything in Lord Melville’s past that might put a loved one at risk.”

  “An investment pool managed by Lord Collingsworth and rental properties,” she answered, with her head already bent and quill in hand. “Both residential and commercial. I can take you to them, if you like.”

  “I would.”

  “Will the day after tomorrow be soon enough for a tour and meeting with my man of affairs, Mr. Reynolds?”

  “Quite. I will also need a list of your tenants.”

  She glanced up at him. “Your attention to detail is very impressive.”

  He bowed. “I do try. I will call on you tomorrow at one.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Turning about, Jasper moved to leave the room. On the threshold, he looked back, finding a small bit of pleasure in catching Eliza staring after him, despite the frown marring her brow. She looked down quickly.