Justin’s liking. He’d purchased his commission only recently and, though he hadn’t seen any action, swaggered among the ladies like a seasoned warrior.
He managed to enjoy a notable success in this arena, in spite of—or perhaps because of—the whisper of scandal that accompanied his arrival in Spain. It seemed as though he had thoroughly compromised a young woman, bringing her to the point of ruin.
He had, he told his cronies, proposed marriage, but the chit proclaimed that she had no wish for husband or family. If the truth were told, said Summervale, he was relieved to be out of the situation, for the lady was not altogether to his taste. At least he had done his duty.
The young woman’s name was, of course, Justin now remembered clearly. Miss Catherine Meade.
So, Justin mused, Miss Meade’s cool composure was a facade. Behind that cool green gaze, lay a passion willing to be stirred. He thought it unlikely that she was a wanton, but she had allowed herself to be seduced by a pair of blue eyes and a head full of pretty yellow curls. Moreover, in refusing to marry Summervale, once having flung her fling, she had shown herself willing to flout the conventions of society.
Hmm, perhaps his little pastoral interlude would prove a little spicier than he had expected. The picture flashed in his mind of a thick mane of honey-colored hair spread out on a pillow beneath him and a pair of green eyes grown cloudy with desire.
Lord, he thought, perspiring, it had been too long since he’d been with a woman. It was apparent that he would have to exert a greater degree of charm than he had managed so far. Catherine had been speaking to him after their ride this morning, but just barely. And at luncheon, her conversation had been only borderline civil.
Well, he’d just have to hone up those empty blandishments. He was not used to failure with the fair sex, and he saw no reason to expect anything less than his usual achievement this time. He hummed in anticipation as he made his way downstairs.
His first opportunity to put his campaign into effect came later that evening. After dinner, Justin once again joined the ladies in the Keep’s gold salon. However, they had barely begun a game of piquet when Lady Jane rose from the table.
“I do apologize, my dears,” she said in a rather thready voice, “but I believe I shall be obliged to retire early this evening.”
Justin stood to assist her. “Does your head hurt very badly, then?” he asked softly.
She glanced at him in surprise. “I’m afraid it does. I get these pesky headaches only rarely, but they are indeed extremely painful. I shall be right as rain, however, tomorrow.”
With Justin’s hand under her arm, she moved toward the doorway, and Catherine jumped from her chair to join her.
“I shall see you to your room, Grandmama, and instruct Hannah to make you a posset. She always knows just what to do for you.”
“No, Catherine, never mind.” Mariah, too, left the table. “Let me go up with her. I think I shall retire, too, for I have an early day planned for tomorrow. I am promised to Mrs. Sylvester directly after breakfast for a linen inventory.”
“Yes, dear,” put in Lady Jane. “Do stay here and entertain Mr. Smith. I shall do very well with Mariah, and”—she waved to them with a hand that shook visibly—”I shall see you both in the morning.”
After seeing her grandmother from the room, Catherine sank once more into her chair at the table.
“Poor Grandmama. She has been plagued with those headaches for years. They are wretchedly severe, but fortunately, as she says, they do not last long.” She glanced curiously at Justin. “How did you know she was in pain? She hates anyone fussing over her, and always takes great care that no one know when one of her migraines comes on. Even I did not realize there was anything amiss with her tonight.”
“I had an—” He stopped short. He had almost mentioned his Aunt Mowbry, who had
He managed to enjoy a notable success in this arena, in spite of—or perhaps because of—the whisper of scandal that accompanied his arrival in Spain. It seemed as though he had thoroughly compromised a young woman, bringing her to the point of ruin.
He had, he told his cronies, proposed marriage, but the chit proclaimed that she had no wish for husband or family. If the truth were told, said Summervale, he was relieved to be out of the situation, for the lady was not altogether to his taste. At least he had done his duty.
The young woman’s name was, of course, Justin now remembered clearly. Miss Catherine Meade.
So, Justin mused, Miss Meade’s cool composure was a facade. Behind that cool green gaze, lay a passion willing to be stirred. He thought it unlikely that she was a wanton, but she had allowed herself to be seduced by a pair of blue eyes and a head full of pretty yellow curls. Moreover, in refusing to marry Summervale, once having flung her fling, she had shown herself willing to flout the conventions of society.
Hmm, perhaps his little pastoral interlude would prove a little spicier than he had expected. The picture flashed in his mind of a thick mane of honey-colored hair spread out on a pillow beneath him and a pair of green eyes grown cloudy with desire.
Lord, he thought, perspiring, it had been too long since he’d been with a woman. It was apparent that he would have to exert a greater degree of charm than he had managed so far. Catherine had been speaking to him after their ride this morning, but just barely. And at luncheon, her conversation had been only borderline civil.
Well, he’d just have to hone up those empty blandishments. He was not used to failure with the fair sex, and he saw no reason to expect anything less than his usual achievement this time. He hummed in anticipation as he made his way downstairs.
His first opportunity to put his campaign into effect came later that evening. After dinner, Justin once again joined the ladies in the Keep’s gold salon. However, they had barely begun a game of piquet when Lady Jane rose from the table.
“I do apologize, my dears,” she said in a rather thready voice, “but I believe I shall be obliged to retire early this evening.”
Justin stood to assist her. “Does your head hurt very badly, then?” he asked softly.
She glanced at him in surprise. “I’m afraid it does. I get these pesky headaches only rarely, but they are indeed extremely painful. I shall be right as rain, however, tomorrow.”
With Justin’s hand under her arm, she moved toward the doorway, and Catherine jumped from her chair to join her.
“I shall see you to your room, Grandmama, and instruct Hannah to make you a posset. She always knows just what to do for you.”
“No, Catherine, never mind.” Mariah, too, left the table. “Let me go up with her. I think I shall retire, too, for I have an early day planned for tomorrow. I am promised to Mrs. Sylvester directly after breakfast for a linen inventory.”
“Yes, dear,” put in Lady Jane. “Do stay here and entertain Mr. Smith. I shall do very well with Mariah, and”—she waved to them with a hand that shook visibly—”I shall see you both in the morning.”
After seeing her grandmother from the room, Catherine sank once more into her chair at the table.
“Poor Grandmama. She has been plagued with those headaches for years. They are wretchedly severe, but fortunately, as she says, they do not last long.” She glanced curiously at Justin. “How did you know she was in pain? She hates anyone fussing over her, and always takes great care that no one know when one of her migraines comes on. Even I did not realize there was anything amiss with her tonight.”
“I had an—” He stopped short. He had almost mentioned his Aunt Mowbry, who had
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