The Pursuit Of Marriage by Victoria Alexander Page B

think I wouldn’t notice?”
    Reggie sipped his brandy. “Notice what?”
    Marcus groaned. “Don’t make me say it.”
    “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Reggie said coolly.
    “Hah!” Marcus snorted. “Very well then. Allow me to explain.”
    “Please do,” Reggie murmured, knowing full well what Marcus was about to say. Reggie had already acknowledged the very same thing to himself.
    “Miss Effington has no interest in you—”
    “I believe we have established that.”
    “And Miss Effington, or rather her family, might possibly be in financial straits.” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “Which puts her firmly in the category of a woman in need of assistance. A damsel in distress!” He aimed an accusing finger at his friend. “Exactly the sort of woman you have always lost your heart to and exactly the sort of woman who has always mangled it.”
    “Not this time, Marcus,” Reggie said coolly.
    Marcus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why would this time be any different?”
    “Because this time, old friend, I am well aware of the situation and well aware of my own weaknesses.”
    “Aware or not, once again you have found a woman in need of rescuing and you are charging ahead!”
    “Not in the least.” Reggie shook his head firmly. “Miss Effington and I have agreed to be friends, nothing more. As her friend, the least I can do is aid her in her monetary problems. I shall increase the fee for her services, but it shall go no further than that. Indeed, I would do no less for you.”
    “You almost deserve each other, you know.” Marcus snorted in disgust and dropped back into his chair.
    “The infamous Lord Berkley and the eccentric Miss Effington.”
    Reggie laughed. “That does sound like a match made in heaven.”
    “Or somewhere considerably lower,” Marcus said under his breath. He fell silent for a moment, then met his friend’s gaze, a distinct gleam in his eye. “I believe I shall rescind my order to Gwen that she abandon any notion of finding a match for you.”
    Reggie raised a brow. “You issued an order to your wife? And you have lived to tell about it?”
    “We have developed a unique system of dealing with one another. I issue orders. She ignores them. I feel better for having put my foot down and she does exactly as she pleases.” Marcus smiled wryly. “It would be most annoying if we did not care for one another.”
    Reggie laughed and pushed aside the twinge of jealousy that struck him at his old friend’s happiness.
    “However the topic at hand is not my life but yours. And now that I know all the details, I am convinced your Miss Effington is right.” Sympathy shone in Marcus’s eyes, but his voice was firm. “You and she will not suit.”
    “You could be wrong,” Reggie said idly. “She could be wrong.”
    “Do you wish her to be?”
    “I don’t know. There would be a certain amount of satisfaction to it, but I don’t really seem to know much of anything when it comes to Miss Effington. It is most annoying.” He blew a long breath.
    “Nonetheless, you and she are probably right: There is no possibility of a future between the two of us.
    “She is not my Miss Effington, Marcus.” The oddest feeling of regret passed through him. “And she never will be.”
    Five
    Women are charming, delightful creatures who should be savored and enjoyed. But under no circumstances should a rational gentleman attempt to understand one.
    C. Effington
    “T hese are good,” Lord Berkley murmured, his attention focused on the sketches spread out before him on the long table in the Berkley House library. “Quite good.”
    Cassie brushed aside the unexpected rush of pleasure at the compliment. “They’re very rough. Nothing more than initial thoughts on paper, really.”
    “No need to be modest, Miss Effington, these are brilliant.” He straightened and studied her with an appreciative eye. “You have a great deal of talent.”
    “You’re kind to