Sylvia Day: Pride and Pleasure

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.

When he reached the foyer, he pulled out his pocket watch and was startled by the time. He’d overstayed his visit by nearly ten minutes, making him late for his next appointment.

Bloody hell. He had completely forgotten the time.

Eliza was compiling the list of property holdings Jasper had requested when her man of affairs was announced. She looked up at the somberly dressed but friendly-faced man in her study doorway, and gestured for him to take a seat before her desk. “Good morning, Mr. Reynolds.”

“An excellent morning, Miss Martin.” Terrance Reynolds sat and placed his satchel at his feet.

She shook her head at the butler, who’d been waiting to relay a tea service request to the housekeeper. While she knew she should offer the courtesy, she truly didn’t have much to say, and she dreaded the awkwardness that would arise when she couldn’t fill the additional time with conversation. Some women possessed a talent for charming but meaningless discourse. Sadly, she was not one of them.

“You will be happy to hear,” Reynolds began, “that I’ve found a shopkeeper for the vacant space on Peony Way. A purveyor of soaps, candles, and such.”

“Excellent. You are most efficient, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Thank you.”

She set her quill aside, noting how much more comfortable she was talking to Reynolds than she was to Mr. Bond… Jasper. Yet that wasn’t to say she preferred the comfort of one over the excitement of the other, which made no sense, considering she’d never been one to enjoy excitation overmuch. Her mother’s life had forever been a series of crises and bursts of happiness interspersed with heated arguments and the depths of despair. Eliza had grown so weary of Georgina Tremaine Martin Chilcott’s incessant drama that she’d taken great pains to moderate her own life. She preferred private dinners to lavish balls, and the comfort of laying on her boudoir chaise with a book over literary luncheons. There was nothing at all soothing about Jasper Bond, and she was intrigued by the fact that she missed the heightened awareness she felt in his presence.

Eliza returned her attention to the man sitting across from her. “You mentioned last week that your brother’s employer had passed on. Is he still in search of employment?”

The males in the Reynolds family were all in trade as men of affairs and bookkeepers. She’d been briefly introduced to another of the siblings, Tobias Reynolds, who was possessed of the same golden locks and green-as-glass eyes as Ter-rance. She had henceforth inquired about Tobias on occasion-part of a well-meant but surprisingly arduous attempt to be more personable-and she’d learned of his misfortune in the course of those inquiries.