Lady Haughston intimated that you wished to meet me, Irene began in her usual direct way. This approach, she had found long ago, was the easiest method of deflecting any mans interest in her. It was unladylike, with none of the flirtation and deception that marked the common course of interaction between men and women.
That is true, he replied.
She shot him an annoyed look. I cannot imagine why.
Can you not? He looked at her again with an expression of faint amusement, an expression that Irene realized she quite disliked.
No, I cannot. I am twenty-five years of age and have been on the shelf for quite some time.
You assume my interest in you is matrimonial? he countered.
Irene felt a flush rise in her cheeks. I just told you, I cannot imagine what your interest in me is. However, I have rarely found that men had any interest in spinsters.
Perhaps I merely wished to renew our acquaintance.
What? Irene turned her head to look at him, startled. She had thought there was something familiar about him, and the feeling tugged at her again. What do you mean?
We have met before. Do you not remember?
Her interest was thoroughly caught now, and she studied his face, scarcely noticing as they stepped through one of the open doors onto the terrace.
Let me refresh your memory, he said, leading her toward the hip-high stone wall that edged the terrace. At the time, you tried to shoot me.
She dropped her hand from his arm and turned to face him. What in the world are you
Suddenly the memory fell into place. It had been yearssurely almost ten. She had heard a fracas downstairs in the entry and had gone to look into it. She had found this man punching her father, and she had stopped the fight by firing a shot from one of her fathers dueling pistols into the air.
You! she exclaimed.
Yes. Me. He looked back at her levelly.
I did not try to shoot you, Irene told him caustically. I fired over your head to get your attention. If I had tried to shoot you, you would be dead.
She expected him to turn on his heel and leave her at that remark, but to her surprise, he let out a short bark of laughter. His face shifted and changed, his eyes lightening with amusement, and he was suddenly so handsome that her breath caught in her throat. The heat that flooded her cheeks this time was not from embarrassment.
Well, I am glad to see that you bear me no ill will, she said tartly, to cover her odd and unsettling reaction. She turned and strolled away from him along the stone wall.
A little to her surprise, he kept pace with her, saying, It was natural, was it not, for a child to protect her father? I could scarcely blame you.
Since you apparently knew my father, I imagine you know that he was little deserving of protection.
Radbourne shrugged. What one deserves has little to do with the relationship between parent and child, I would think.
My father would have told you that I was an unnatural child.
He looked at her. You stopped me from hurting him any further, did you not?
Yes. I did. She did not look at him, instead turning her gaze out over the garden. She had no interest in discussing her father or her feelings toward him. Still, I see little reason why you should wish to meet someone who held a gun on you.
I was finished with Lord Wyngate, anyway. I had made my point to him. He paused, turning his own attention toward the garden. But you seemedinteresting.
Irene turned to him. I fired a shot at you and you found it interesting?
The smile tugged at the corners of his mouth again. It was over my head. Remember?
She frowned. I am not sure what you are getting at.
You were correct in your first assumption, my lady. Matrimonial concerns are what brought me here.
I beg your pardon?
My family is interested in marrying me off to a proper young lady. I am, you see, an embarrassment to them. The facts of my life are, apparently, somehow a scandal, a reflection upon them. And an earl who cannot ride, and whose vowels are not rounded and plummy enough, is a disgrace. As for my business interestswell, they cannot even be spoken of.
Despite his light tone, his words were biting and his eyes were hard. It seemed clear to Irene that the man had little liking for his newly discovered familyor perhaps it was simply disdain for the nobility in general. She could not help but feel a certain sympathy for him. After all, she had for several years been viewed by many of her peers and even some members of her family with disfavor, if not actual dislike, for her forthright manner and blunt speech.
Radbourne went on, They have come up with a plan to cover my shortcomings by shackling me to a woman of good family. I think it is their hope that she will guide me into more appropriate behavioror at least hide some of my inappropriateness.
You are a grown man, Irene pointed out. They cannot force you to marry.
He grimaced. No. Only talk me to death on the matter.
Irene hid a smile. She knew the power of an incessant harangue all too well.
He shrugged. But I know that I must marry and produce an heir. If I refuse now, I am only delaying the inevitable. I toyed with the idea of marrying an opera dancer or some such, just to put their noses out of joint. But it would be unfair of me to put someone else in that position. Nor would I want to doom my children to gossip and whispers. I will not make them pariahs among their peers. Therefore, I agree that I need to marry a suitable wife. You are, I understand, not yet married or betrothed, and according to my great-aunt, your family fits the requirements very well. Lady Haughston has apparently agreed to help Lady Pencully in this endeavor, so I suggested to her that you be considered as one of the possibilities.
Irene gaped at him, so astonished that she was momentarily robbed of the ability to speak. Finally she blurted out, You are considering marrying me because I once threatened you with a pistol?
I thought that you might be less dull than the simpering misses they have presented to me, he replied, smiling a little.
She stared at him for a moment longer, then drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flashing. Are you mad? Your words are insulting in so many ways that I scarce know where to start.
He stiffened a little, his face settling into hard lines. His voice was silkily dangerous as he said, The idea of marrying me is an insult to you?
Do you expect me to feel flattered because you decided to consider me as a possibility in your parade of brides? Am I to be honored that you picked me out from the others, like a mare at a sale? Because you deemed me somewhat less boring and unworthy of you than the other unmarried women of the ton?
His mouth tightened. It is not the way you make it sound. I am not purchasing a wife. It would be a practical arrangement, something that would be advantageous for you, as well. I assumed that you had passed the age of holding girlish fantasies about love.
Believe me, I was never so young as to hold that sort of fantasy, Irene shot back. Anger vibrated through her, making her oblivious to everything else.
She took a step forward, hands clenched into fists at her sides, and glared up into his face, finding his icy calm more infuriating than any raw display of temper. Did you think that I was so desperate to marry, so unable to make my way through this world without the guidance of a man, that I would jump at such an opportunity?