Pride and Pleasure

by Sylvia Day

  “Nothing so sublime.” Jasper rolled his shoulders back. This was what he’d wanted—to attract the attention of whoever was endangering Eliza. But he hadn’t anticipated the feeling of jealousy. Tolliver had roused his proprietary instincts and his discomfort was certain to worsen as time progressed.

  The sound of Montague’s name being bandied around them drew Jasper’s attention toward the farthest entrance. “He came,” he murmured. “I’d begun to doubt he would.”

  “Look at this place.” Westfield gestured with a jerk of his chin. “Lady Valmont hasn’t enjoyed a gathering of this size in many years. The curious come en masse to see Miss Martin’s transformation and the man responsible for it. She changed her appearance for you, did she not?”

  “She did it for the investigation. At first.” Jasper gave himself permission to look at her again. He was torn between his two goals—winning Eliza’s hand and staying focused on his vengeance. “Tonight, I think she did it for me.”

  “So she was being truthful when she said she had feelings for you?” Westfield snorted. “What in God’s name does she see in you?”

  “I wish I knew. I would show her more of it.”

  Montague’s progress through the room was marked by a noticeable ripple in the throng. He was heading toward Eliza, who stood on the opposite side of the room.

  Jasper started in that direction. Westfield fell in line. They worked their way through the crowd, their path repeatedly blocked by one inquisitive well-wisher after another.

  “Is your marriage a sign that Montague’s destruction is now assured?” the earl asked.

  “Not yet. I have learned he’s forming a pool of investors for a coal mine speculation.” Jasper grabbed a glass of lemonade from the tray of a passing footman.

  “Is that what shored up his confidence about his finances and prompted him to contact me about retrieving his marker?”

  “I hope to know the answer tomorrow. Either he’s falling deeper into ruin or digging himself out of it.”

  Westfield grabbed his elbow and pulled him to a halt. “Bond.”

  Jasper’s brows rose in silent inquiry.

  “Have you considered embracing your new life with Miss Martin and leaving Montague’s future to fate? In my experience, deserving fellows have a way of finding their own sorry end.”

  “I am Montague’s end,” Jasper said, before tossing back the contents of his glass. He started forward again, lamenting the beverage’s inability to make the scrutiny directed his way more tolerable.

  “I am so happy for you.” Lady Collingsworth beamed like a proud parent. Dripping in sapphires and adorned with white plumes in her hair, she carried herself with the sort of regal confidence that supported such accessories instead of depended upon them.

  “Thank you.” Eliza ran a hand over her unsettled stomach.

  “I admire you for following your heart,” Regina went on. “I know how difficult the decision to marry was for you.”

  “I’ve tried to understand why it is so hard for me and not for so many others. Certainly I am not privy to information other women do not have.”

  “Of course you are. Only you lived with your mother.”

  Eliza’s eyes widened. It was the closest the countess had ever come to speaking harshly about Georgina.

  “Why do you look so surprised, dear? I’m aware of how you feel about your mother and her choices. She wed two different men because she cared for them, and neither marriage ended well. The fact that her second husband was a fortune hunter sealed your opinion of matrimony. I understand the preconceptions you had to overcome before accepting Mr. Bond’s proposal.” Regina looked past Eliza, focusing on something or someone behind her. “I can only hope that the indecent way he looks at you had a hand in your capitulation. I do believe his regard elevates the temperature in the room.”

  “Regina!” Eliza resisted the urge to glance at Jasper, knowing if she did, she would become flushed and distracted. All evening long, he’d been staring at her as if she was naked.

  “Stuff,” the countess retorted. “What happens in the privacy of the marital bed is of equal importance to what happens outside of it. A marriage cannot thrive if there is disharmony in the bedroom.”

  “Can it survive if pleasure is all there is?”

  “My dear girl, pleasure is what is lacking in most marriages. Don’t take it for granted.”

  “It seems so frivolous a reason,” Eliza muttered.

  “You are too smart to make frivolous decisions. I’m certain if you made a list of Mr. Bond’s good and bad points, you would find the good far outweighs the bad.”

  No longer able to resist looking at Jasper, Eliza turned her head to find him. En route, her attention was caught by a familiar tall figure. The Earl of Montague was cutting through the crowd, his handsome face lit with a charming grin. Although he was frequently held back by those who wished to greet him, it was obvious he was on a direct path to her.

  “Montague seems to be in good spirits,” Regina noted. “It was good of you to tell him directly about your engagement to Mr. Bond.”

  “Leaving the matter to Melville would have been too distant and insincere.” Eliza offered a smile to Regina that was filled with heartfelt gratitude. “I wouldn’t have had the courage to meet with him without you. Thank you for accompanying me.”

  “Accompanying you where?”

  Eliza was warmed by the sound of Jasper’s voice behind her. The occupants of the room receded, her awareness of the noise fading into insignificance. She faced him. “To the park this afternoon.”

  “For a meeting with Montague?”

  “Yes. To tell him about our engagement.”

  A shadow passed over Jasper’s features. “You should not have done that.”

  She stiffened at his tone, unaccustomed to being gainsaid. “It was the least he deserved.”

  “You have no notion of what he deserves.”

  “Bond.” Westfield’s low, warning tone stole Eliza’s attention. She looked at the earl, who stood just beyond Jasper’s left shoulder. Like Montague, Westfield cut a dashing figure, and when he looked at her, his eyes were kind.

  Two peers. Both were attractive, solicitous, and willing to marry her. Yet she had chosen the wild commoner of indeterminate origins. A man she could never hope to tame. She felt a frisson of disquiet over her decision.

  Jasper’s jaw tensed, as if he sensed her sudden confusion. The affection that had been in his eyes when they’d first reunited this evening was far less evident now. To her, the distance between them seemed almost tangible.

  Regina cleared her throat. “Perhaps you might accompany me to the drinks table, Lord Westfield. My throat is dry.”

  “Of course.” The earl shot a meaningful glance at Jasper, before leading Lady Collingsworth away.

  Jasper stepped closer to Eliza. “How can I protect you when you deliberately put yourself in danger?”

  “What danger? I met with Lord Montague in public, with Lady Collingsworth in attendance. Your men were certainly somewhere nearby. Or were they not? Is that why your mood is so foul?”

  “You hired me to investigate your suitors. Then you meet with one privately to tell him he’s losing any chance of laying claim to your money, putting him in a desperate position!”

  “What could he have done?”

  “Abscond with you. Hold you for ransom. Anything.”

  “Montague?” she scoffed. “A man of his station would not—”

  “You don’t know him, Eliza, or what he is capable of.”

  “And you do?”

  “Stay away from him.”

  Her brow rose. “Is that an order?”

  Jasper’s jaw clenched. “Don’t turn this into a battle of wills.”

  “You are attempting to limit my freedom. It’s unreasonable to expect me not to fight for it.”

  He caught her by the elbows and tugged her scandalously close, as if they were alone and not surrounded on all sides by pryi
ng eyes. “I am attempting to keep you safe.”

  “Your advice is duly noted.” Eliza knew she was goading his temper, but his clipped responses made her wonder if she wasn’t giving him precisely what he wanted. He seemed to be spoiling for a fight.

  “You must heed me.” His eyes were so dark, they were nearly black.

  “Your concern is unfounded. I foresee no occasion where Lord Montague and I would have cause to meet again outside of social settings.”

  “Cause or not, I want you to keep your distance.” He released her. “From Tolliver, as well.”

  Irritation swelled within her. “Tell me why.”

  “Tolliver is not taking the news of our engagement well.”

  “And Montague? He smiled when I told him and wished me happy.”

  “He cares for no one’s happiness but his own.”

  “And I’m just to take your word for this, with no explanation provided?”

  “Yes.”

  “Already exerting your husbandly right to control me in whatever manner you see fit?” Her grip on her fan tightened to the point that the wood creaked in protest.

  “I will not allow you to turn a discussion about your safety into an argument about independence and the drawbacks of matrimony.”

  “Won’t allow. I see. Is this acceptance and rejection of acquaintances reciprocal? Can I forbid you to meet with Lord Westfield?”

  “You are deliberately baiting me.”

  “I am simply attempting to discern where the boundaries are, and if they apply equally to both of us.”

  “Westfield is no danger to anyone.”

  “Maybe I know something you do not,” she challenged. “Of course, if I follow your example, I don’t have to share what I know with you.”

  She looked away to hide the prickling of tears and saw Lord Montague approaching. Her shoulders went back.

  “Miss Martin.” Montague kissed the back of the hand she extended to him, then released her with a stately dip of his head. He looked at Jasper. “Mr. Bond. May I extend felicitations to you?”

  Jasper’s lips curved in a teeth-baring smile. “You may, my lord. I accept them with pleasure.”

  Eliza knew the rigidness of her posture betrayed the op-positional nature of her conversation with Jasper, but she was too frustrated to care overmuch.

  “Is it too much to hope, Miss Martin,” the earl said, “that you might still have room on your dance card for me?”

  “The next waltz is yours.”

  A tic in Jasper’s jaw filled her with acrimonious satisfaction.

  She’d deliberately withheld the evening’s two waltzes. Not for Montague, but as a token gesture for Jasper. She had intended for her next waltz to be with him, even though it would take weeks for him to learn the steps and absorb them into memory.

  “It appears I, too, am fortunate,” Montague said. “Although not to the same degree as you, Mr. Bond.”

  “So it seems.” Jasper’s features were set in hard lines.

  The orchestra played a few brief notes to alert the guests that the next dance would soon begin. Eliza gratefully excused herself and searched for her partner, Baron Brimley. As she moved away from the terrible tension emanating from Jasper, her breathing became easier. Reason returned to her, swiftly followed by regret. She disliked that they’d quarreled. Worse, she disliked herself.

  Jasper watched Eliza walk away with undue haste and berated himself for sparking their first argument. He knew he had to tread lightly with her or risk her thrusting issues of money and independence between them, but he’d been discomfited into acting rashly. The surprise of learning that she’d met with Montague drove him to be harsh and unyielding, yet his ignorance was his own fault. Lynd had called upon him unexpectedly, and Jasper made the mistake of delaying the daily reports in order to accommodate his old mentor.

  How could he have been so careless? He lived by rigid schedules and timetables for a reason—they kept things running smoothly and without startling incidents. Compounding his error by expelling the anger that should rightly have been self-directed only made the situation worse. He’d now caused a rift between him and Eliza that he could ill-afford.

  “You have Byron’s brooding countenance mimicked to perfection,” Montague said. “I didn’t try that tactic when attempting to woo Miss Martin.”

  Jasper’s head turned slowly, his expression altering to reveal no emotion whatsoever. He and his half-brother were nearly of a height. The similarities between them were numerous enough that Jasper shifted slightly to put more distance between them. “I cannot say I’m sorry you lost her to me.”

  Montague smiled and rocked back on his heels, blissfully oblivious to the resemblance between them and the reason for it. “You are somewhat of a mystery, Mr. Bond.”

  “Ask me what you want to know. Perhaps I’ll answer you.”

  “How do you feel about coal?”

  A ripple of satisfaction moved through Jasper. Could acquiring the information he needed be so easy? “It’s a necessity. Life would be miserable without it.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” The earl’s smile turned into a grin. “I have a speculation you might find interesting.”

  Jasper pushed Eliza from his mind and managed a smile. “You have the entirety of my attention, my lord.”

  By the time the Earl of Montague collected Eliza for their waltz, her ire had vanished. Still, she was completely out of sorts. For the first time, she understood that she’d lived her life without conflict after her mother passed on. No one disagreed with her because there were no points of contention; she was not obliged to explain herself nor meld her viewpoint with anyone else’s. The result of her unchallenged independence was that she was sorely unprepared for arguments. Her entire body responded negatively to discord. She had a headache, and her stomach was upset, even though she was no longer angry.

  “I’ve never seen you look lovelier, Miss Martin,” Montague murmured, as he set his hand at her waist.

  “Thank you.” She stared at his cravat, noting its elaborate style and thick starching.

  Montague had dressed flamboyantly in peacock blue velvet and a multi-colored waistcoat. His attire was far removed from Jasper’s more somber style, and yet the earl’s height and physical coloring were uncannily accurate substitutes for Jasper. The similarity caused Eliza to focus on how the earl made allowances for her shorter stature when an upraised arm position dictated it. He was a highly accomplished dancer, leading her expertly through the steps. She took mental notes for use in Jasper’s dancing lessons, grateful the preoccupation afforded her some respite from her emotional turmoil.

  “You have aroused my curiosity,” he said.

  “In what regard?”

  “Your matchmaking skills.”

  Eliza frowned. “I didn’t say I possessed any. Only that I could find someone more suitable for you than I.”

  “Suggestions?” His dark eyes were laughing.

  “I believe any unmarried woman in attendance tonight would fit that criterion.”

  “For shame,” he cried, laughing, and thereby turning heads toward them. “To foster hope, only to dash it with a cruel jest.”

  “Fustian. You could have anyone.”

  “Except for you.”

  It took her a moment to realize he was teasing her. “How about Audora Winfield?” she offered.

  “Her laugh drives me to madness.”

  “Jane Rothschild?”

  “I frighten her. She stammers and turns red. The best we’ve managed were short stretches of time at a house party where I spoke incessantly to fill the void and she nodded vigorously to everything I said.”

  “Poor thing. Perhaps more time spent with her will alleviate her nervousness?”

  “Too torturous for both of us, I think. Certainly too much work.”

  “Lady Sarah Tanner?”

  He shook his head.

  “What fault does she have?” Eliza asked.

  Montague hesitated a m
oment, then said, “She is…overbold.”

  “Oh. I see.” She found herself at a loss. There were others, she was sure, but she couldn’t name them offhand. “Perhaps you would be best served by waiting for a new Season and new debutantes?”

  “As recently as yesterday, I would have said I could not afford to wait that long.”

  “And today?”

  “Today, I have renewed hope that I can buy the time necessary to find a suitable replacement for you. I believe I have found a solid investment with a high probability of return. Mr. Bond might join me in the pool. We have plans to discuss it further tomorrow.”

  “Do you?”

  Why would Jasper consider investing with Montague when he claimed not to trust the earl and knew him to be insolvent? It was unreasonable. And that wasn’t her only concern. What was Jasper’s experience with investments? Did he know what he was involving himself in?

  In the morning, she would ask Reynolds to look into Montague’s speculation and assess its potential. Then, she’d approach Jasper directly and ask him to explain. If he refused to answer, she would give him an ultimatum—share with her or lose her.

  They could progress no further as a couple with so much unsaid between them.

  Chapter 12

  “I’m sorry.”

  Eliza turned away from the French doors leading to the rear garden and faced Jasper. He entered the Melville ballroom with a determined, forceful stride. There were over one hundred feet of marble floor between them, but she felt his presence keenly.

  “Close the door,” she said.

  He drew to a halt. The massive room was dimly lit, with only the indirect morning sunlight at her back offering any illumination. She heard him take a deep breath before turning around and returning to the door.

  As the click of the latch echoed through the room, she asked, “Did you sleep well?”

  “No.” Jasper resumed the long walk to where she stood, passing the many mural vignettes without looking. “But then, I’ve never slept well. There is too much to be done and not enough time in the day.”