them? What if her children’s brains were even more damaged than hers? She couldn’t take that chance.
“By all accounts,” Simon went on, “Draker is ugly—”
“He’s not ugly.”
Simon arched one eyebrow. “If you say so. But he’s a clever man of letters steeped in scandalous rumor. Definitely not your sort.”
“Perhaps my tastes have changed.”
“You mean you’ve decided to cut your teeth on something meatier? Be careful, dear girl. Setting your sights higher is an admirable goal, but starting with the likes of Draker is insanity.”
“I told her that,” Cicely put in. “She just won’t listen.”
Because she couldn’t bear to let the man continue his arrogant assumptions when she had the power to prove him wrong. “Think what you wish, but I will take your wager, and I will win.” If only to make sure Simon did this courtship properly.
He laughed. “Very well, have your fun. And when you fail, and the devil continues opposing our match, Louisa will wash her hands of him at last, leaving us to do as we please.”
Regina gritted her teeth. “I shall not fail. No brother of mine shall sneak about town with his ladylove like some reckless rogue. I’ll make sure of that.”
Chapter Four
The best weapon against unwanted suitors is a dire look. Use a mirror to practice your disapproving glances.
—Miss Cicely Tremaine, The Ideal Chaperone
M arcus frowned as he paced the foyer of Foxmoor’s spacious and extravagantly furnished mansion in town. The butler had told him that Lady Regina would be down momentarily, but she’d already kept him waiting a full fifteen minutes. That was probably part of her attempt to bring him to heel.
Very well, let her play her little games; they would not affect him. She might be a siren, but he was as immovable as Ulysses tied to the mast. Like Ulysses, he would allow himself to hear her dangerous song without succumbing to its allure.
“You must be Draker,” said a voice from behind him.
He turned to find a man approaching—young, blond, and dressed in a fine suit of dark blue silk. If Marcus hadn’t recognized the duke from Louisa’s coming-out ball, he still would have known him by the marked resemblance he bore to Lady Regina. The man was too handsome by half, certainly too handsome to make a sweet girl like Louisa happy.
Marcus hated him instantly. “Hello, Foxmoor.”
The man stopped short. “Have we met before?”
“Not exactly, but I know who you are.”
“Excellent.” The duke held out his hand, but Marcus ignored it. After a moment, Foxmoor dropped his hand. “So you’re here to court Regina?”
Marcus eyed him warily. “She told you about our…er…”
“Bargain? Yes. Very peculiar, that.” His mouth hardened. “I’m not sure I approve, but Regina has a tendency to do as she pleases no matter what I say. One of the trials of having sisters, I suppose.”
“I haven’t had that sort of trouble myself.” Marcus gave a thin smile. “My sister knows better than to act without my permission.”
Foxmoor’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t count on that. Miss North has a mind of her own, which you’ll learn soon enough if you force her to choose between us.”
“Louisa will never choose you if I have anything to say about it.”
Foxmoor’s smile stopped short of his eyes. “You won’t.”
Marcus scowled. “Now see here, you calculating weasel—”
“That’s enough, both of you.”
They whirled toward the stairs at the same time. But while Simon began to frown at the sight of his sister in her evening gown, Marcus was struck dumb.
Had he thought her beautiful before? He’d been deranged. That had been the plain Lady Regina, the one who paid calls to reclusive country gentlemen. This was Lady Regina in full society regalia, La Belle Dame Sans Merci in all her glory. A vision of loveliness in pink crepe and pearls.
And he’d thought she couldn’t bring him to heel. If he didn’t watch it, she’d soon have
“By all accounts,” Simon went on, “Draker is ugly—”
“He’s not ugly.”
Simon arched one eyebrow. “If you say so. But he’s a clever man of letters steeped in scandalous rumor. Definitely not your sort.”
“Perhaps my tastes have changed.”
“You mean you’ve decided to cut your teeth on something meatier? Be careful, dear girl. Setting your sights higher is an admirable goal, but starting with the likes of Draker is insanity.”
“I told her that,” Cicely put in. “She just won’t listen.”
Because she couldn’t bear to let the man continue his arrogant assumptions when she had the power to prove him wrong. “Think what you wish, but I will take your wager, and I will win.” If only to make sure Simon did this courtship properly.
He laughed. “Very well, have your fun. And when you fail, and the devil continues opposing our match, Louisa will wash her hands of him at last, leaving us to do as we please.”
Regina gritted her teeth. “I shall not fail. No brother of mine shall sneak about town with his ladylove like some reckless rogue. I’ll make sure of that.”
Chapter Four
The best weapon against unwanted suitors is a dire look. Use a mirror to practice your disapproving glances.
—Miss Cicely Tremaine, The Ideal Chaperone
M arcus frowned as he paced the foyer of Foxmoor’s spacious and extravagantly furnished mansion in town. The butler had told him that Lady Regina would be down momentarily, but she’d already kept him waiting a full fifteen minutes. That was probably part of her attempt to bring him to heel.
Very well, let her play her little games; they would not affect him. She might be a siren, but he was as immovable as Ulysses tied to the mast. Like Ulysses, he would allow himself to hear her dangerous song without succumbing to its allure.
“You must be Draker,” said a voice from behind him.
He turned to find a man approaching—young, blond, and dressed in a fine suit of dark blue silk. If Marcus hadn’t recognized the duke from Louisa’s coming-out ball, he still would have known him by the marked resemblance he bore to Lady Regina. The man was too handsome by half, certainly too handsome to make a sweet girl like Louisa happy.
Marcus hated him instantly. “Hello, Foxmoor.”
The man stopped short. “Have we met before?”
“Not exactly, but I know who you are.”
“Excellent.” The duke held out his hand, but Marcus ignored it. After a moment, Foxmoor dropped his hand. “So you’re here to court Regina?”
Marcus eyed him warily. “She told you about our…er…”
“Bargain? Yes. Very peculiar, that.” His mouth hardened. “I’m not sure I approve, but Regina has a tendency to do as she pleases no matter what I say. One of the trials of having sisters, I suppose.”
“I haven’t had that sort of trouble myself.” Marcus gave a thin smile. “My sister knows better than to act without my permission.”
Foxmoor’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t count on that. Miss North has a mind of her own, which you’ll learn soon enough if you force her to choose between us.”
“Louisa will never choose you if I have anything to say about it.”
Foxmoor’s smile stopped short of his eyes. “You won’t.”
Marcus scowled. “Now see here, you calculating weasel—”
“That’s enough, both of you.”
They whirled toward the stairs at the same time. But while Simon began to frown at the sight of his sister in her evening gown, Marcus was struck dumb.
Had he thought her beautiful before? He’d been deranged. That had been the plain Lady Regina, the one who paid calls to reclusive country gentlemen. This was Lady Regina in full society regalia, La Belle Dame Sans Merci in all her glory. A vision of loveliness in pink crepe and pearls.
And he’d thought she couldn’t bring him to heel. If he didn’t watch it, she’d soon have
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