Michelle Styles - A Question of Impropriety

Clare made a disgusted noise. ‘You have a better memory than I. Is this derisory sum your final offer?’

‘It is a fair sum. Consider it. That is all I ask.’ Brett reached for the brandy again, preparing to pour Clare a glass. He and Clare were neighbours after all. They would have to put Cambridge behind them. ‘I enjoyed speaking with your sister when we met at your house.’

‘And spoke to her again on the High Street.’ Clare crossed his arms and glowered. ‘What sort of game are you playing at, Coltonby?’

‘We were introduced in London. I had no idea at the time she was your sister. She is somehow much more…’

‘Refined? Is that the word you were searching for? My sister was educated at a ladies’ academy. She is young enough not to remember how my father had to scrimp and save for every penny.’

‘Convivial was the word I was looking for.’ Brett permitted a smile to cross his face. ‘It would have been vulgar of me to cut her. Don’t you agree, Clare? I do despise vulgarity.’

A muscle in Clare’s cheek twitched. ‘I know what you and your kind are like. You are trying to use her.’

‘Am I?’ Brett managed to hang on to his temper. ‘Pray tell me how.’

‘My sister is a lady. Remember that.’

Brett stared at the man in astonishment. ‘Tell me how I have behaved inappropriately.’

‘I know what you’re like. I remember you and your deeds from Cambridge.’ Clare leant forward. ‘Your business is with me. Keep away from my sister. You are not fit company for her.’

Clare stalked out. The door slammed behind him.

‘And what will you do if I keep company with her? How will you stop me? What price will you be prepared to pay?’ Brett asked quietly in the empty room. ‘Will you sell me the land? No, you will give the land to me, Clare.’

If ever there was a woman who needed a bit of romance and flirtation in her life, it was Miss Clare. All Ladywell society would thank him if she abandoned her hideous caps. He would do it. It would prove a challenge. But in the end, Simon Clare would surrender.

Brett raised his glass. ‘To this week’s quarry—Miss Diana Clare.’

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