more distasteful. The thought of any of these men with Marianne was intolerable.
"What? Is there something wrong about him, too?"
He shrugged. "Nothing specific. Just a gut feeling."
"And what does your gut say?"
"It may sound odd, but I don't like the way the man treats his horses."
A puzzled frown marked her brow. "His horses?"
"Yes. He shows no care at all for them, and is a tad too free with the whip and the spur. He is downright cruel to the poor beasts, running them until they’re lame. And I have observed that a man who mistreats his cattle often shows the same disregard for his women. I don't trust him."
A suspicious glint lit her eyes. "You think I should cross him off the list?"
"It is entirely up to you, my dear. I am only offering an observation."
"Hmm. All right then. Lord Rochdale."
Adam almost choked on his wine. "Rochdale?" he sputtered. The fellow was one of his closest friends and a notorious libertine. The very idea of Marianne and Rochdale together was simply not to be borne. The man would use her and toss her aside without a second thought. Surely she knew that. "You're not serious?"
She smiled. "No, I'm not."
He heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God .
"I only wanted to get back at you for objecting to every other man on my list."
"Wretch! You almost gave me an apoplexy."
"Serves you right."
Her dimples flashed and she looked adorable, all curled up and cozy in her shawl with her feet tucked underneath her like a girl. Funny. He'd never noticed what dainty feet she had. Despite Adam's best efforts, it seemed some lucky fellow was going to tuck those pretty feet in a very different posture and wrap himself around her better than any shawl. Damn.
"Now," she said, "shall we continue?"
"There's more?"
"Lots more. It's quite an extensive list, you see."
She held up the paper and it did indeed look like there were twenty or more names on it. Adam poured another glass of wine. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
The tiny candlestand was crowded with empty wine bottles by the time Marianne's list had been narrowed to a small handful of unobjectionable gentlemen. She was a bit the worse for drink and not clearheaded enough to trust her perceptions, but she would swear that Adam was not at all happy that even so few men remained on the list. She had the distinct impression that he would have preferred to cross off every single name, leaving her with no options. And no hope.
Perhaps he was merely acting the role of an older brother, one who thought no man was good enough for his sister. Or perhaps he simply took his promise to David to look after her too much to heart. Either way, some of his excuses grew thin after a while. A man was either too tall or too short, too stout or too spare. His eyes were too narrow, his ears too big, his nose too long.
"Your idiotic objections have become quite tiresome. I am keeping Lord Aldershot on the list despite his big feet."
He groaned. "If you must. But have a care when dancing with the man. One false step and those dainty toes of yours could be crushed to bits."
Marianne giggled. "You are being foolish, Adam. Too much wine has made you silly."
"And you, my goose, are giggling."
They looked at each other and dissolved into sloppy, uncontrolled laughter, as they had done more frequently as the night wore on, and the wine flowed freely. What a sight they must have made. If any of their friends could see them together in such a state, they would very likely be scandalized. Marianne's shawl had fallen away, and she had long ago kicked off her slippers and propped her feet on the grate. Adam's coat had gone missing, his waistcoat hung open, and his neckcloth was untied. Shards of a broken wine glass littered the hearth. One empty bottle had rolled beneath Adam's chair.
"Stop laughing," she said, not quite stopping herself. "We still have serious business to consider."
"Thought we were quite finished with your wretched list. Please do not tell
"What? Is there something wrong about him, too?"
He shrugged. "Nothing specific. Just a gut feeling."
"And what does your gut say?"
"It may sound odd, but I don't like the way the man treats his horses."
A puzzled frown marked her brow. "His horses?"
"Yes. He shows no care at all for them, and is a tad too free with the whip and the spur. He is downright cruel to the poor beasts, running them until they’re lame. And I have observed that a man who mistreats his cattle often shows the same disregard for his women. I don't trust him."
A suspicious glint lit her eyes. "You think I should cross him off the list?"
"It is entirely up to you, my dear. I am only offering an observation."
"Hmm. All right then. Lord Rochdale."
Adam almost choked on his wine. "Rochdale?" he sputtered. The fellow was one of his closest friends and a notorious libertine. The very idea of Marianne and Rochdale together was simply not to be borne. The man would use her and toss her aside without a second thought. Surely she knew that. "You're not serious?"
She smiled. "No, I'm not."
He heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God .
"I only wanted to get back at you for objecting to every other man on my list."
"Wretch! You almost gave me an apoplexy."
"Serves you right."
Her dimples flashed and she looked adorable, all curled up and cozy in her shawl with her feet tucked underneath her like a girl. Funny. He'd never noticed what dainty feet she had. Despite Adam's best efforts, it seemed some lucky fellow was going to tuck those pretty feet in a very different posture and wrap himself around her better than any shawl. Damn.
"Now," she said, "shall we continue?"
"There's more?"
"Lots more. It's quite an extensive list, you see."
She held up the paper and it did indeed look like there were twenty or more names on it. Adam poured another glass of wine. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
The tiny candlestand was crowded with empty wine bottles by the time Marianne's list had been narrowed to a small handful of unobjectionable gentlemen. She was a bit the worse for drink and not clearheaded enough to trust her perceptions, but she would swear that Adam was not at all happy that even so few men remained on the list. She had the distinct impression that he would have preferred to cross off every single name, leaving her with no options. And no hope.
Perhaps he was merely acting the role of an older brother, one who thought no man was good enough for his sister. Or perhaps he simply took his promise to David to look after her too much to heart. Either way, some of his excuses grew thin after a while. A man was either too tall or too short, too stout or too spare. His eyes were too narrow, his ears too big, his nose too long.
"Your idiotic objections have become quite tiresome. I am keeping Lord Aldershot on the list despite his big feet."
He groaned. "If you must. But have a care when dancing with the man. One false step and those dainty toes of yours could be crushed to bits."
Marianne giggled. "You are being foolish, Adam. Too much wine has made you silly."
"And you, my goose, are giggling."
They looked at each other and dissolved into sloppy, uncontrolled laughter, as they had done more frequently as the night wore on, and the wine flowed freely. What a sight they must have made. If any of their friends could see them together in such a state, they would very likely be scandalized. Marianne's shawl had fallen away, and she had long ago kicked off her slippers and propped her feet on the grate. Adam's coat had gone missing, his waistcoat hung open, and his neckcloth was untied. Shards of a broken wine glass littered the hearth. One empty bottle had rolled beneath Adam's chair.
"Stop laughing," she said, not quite stopping herself. "We still have serious business to consider."
"Thought we were quite finished with your wretched list. Please do not tell
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