A ripple of satisfaction moved through Jasper. Could acquiring the information he needed be so easy? “It’s a necessity. Life would be miserable without it.”
“My thoughts exactly.” The earl’s smile turned into a grin. “I have a speculation you might find interesting.”
Jasper pushed Eliza from his mind and managed a smile. “You have the entirety of my attention, my lord.”
By the time the Earl of Montague collected Eliza for their waltz, her ire had vanished. Still, she was completely out of sorts. For the first time, she understood that she’d lived her life without conflict after her mother passed on. No one disagreed with her because there were no points of contention; she was not obliged to explain herself nor meld her viewpoint with anyone else’s. The result of her unchallenged independence was that she was sorely unprepared for arguments. Her entire body responded negatively to discord. She had a headache, and her stomach was upset, even though she was no longer angry.
“I’ve never seen you look lovelier, Miss Martin,” Montague murmured, as he set his hand at her waist.
“Thank you.” She stared at his cravat, noting its elaborate style and thick starching.
Montague had dressed flamboyantly in peacock blue velvet and a multi-colored waistcoat. His attire was far removed from Jasper’s more somber style, and yet the earl’s height and physical coloring were uncannily accurate substitutes for Jasper. The similarity caused Eliza to focus on how the earl made allowances for her shorter stature when an upraised arm position dictated it. He was a highly accomplished dancer, leading her expertly through the steps. She took mental notes for use in Jasper’s dancing lessons, grateful the preoccupation afforded her some respite from her emotional turmoil.
“You have aroused my curiosity,” he said.
“In what regard?”
“Your matchmaking skills.”
Eliza frowned. “I didn’t say I possessed any. Only that I could find someone more suitable for you than I.”
“Suggestions?” His dark eyes were laughing.
“I believe any unmarried woman in attendance tonight would fit that criterion.”
“For shame,” he cried, laughing, and thereby turning heads toward them. “To foster hope, only to dash it with a cruel jest.”
“Fustian. You could have anyone.”
“Except for you.”
It took her a moment to realize he was teasing her. “How about Audora Winfield?” she offered.
“Her laugh drives me to madness.”
“Jane Rothschild?”
“I frighten her. She stammers and turns red. The best we’ve managed were short stretches of time at a house party where I spoke incessantly to fill the void and she nodded vigorously to everything I said.”
“Poor thing. Perhaps more time spent with her will alleviate her nervousness?”
“Too torturous for both of us, I think. Certainly too much work.”
“Lady Sarah Tanner?”
He shook his head.
“What fault does she have?” Eliza asked.
Montague hesitated a moment, then said, “She is…overbold.”
“Oh. I see.” She found herself at a loss. There were others, she was sure, but she couldn’t name them offhand. “Perhaps you would be best served by waiting for a new Season and new debutantes?”
“As recently as yesterday, I would have said I could not afford to wait that long.”
“And today?”
“Today, I have renewed hope that I can buy the time necessary to find a suitable replacement for you. I believe I have found a solid investment with a high probability of return. Mr. Bond might join me in the pool. We have plans to discuss it further tomorrow.”
“Do you?”
Why would Jasper consider investing with Montague when he claimed not to trust the earl and knew him to be insolvent? It was unreasonable. And that wasn’t her only concern. What was Jasper’s experience with investments? Did he know what he was involving himself in?
In the morning, she would ask Reynolds to look into Montague’s speculation and assess its potential. Then, she’d approach Jasper directly and ask him to explain. If he refused to answer, she would give him an ultimatum- share with her or lose her.
They could progress no further as a couple with so much unsaid between them.
Chapter 12
“I’m sorry.”
Eliza turned away from the French doors leading to the rear garden and faced Jasper. He entered the Melville ballroom with a determined, forceful stride. There were over one hundred feet of marble floor between them, but she felt his presence keenly.
“Close the door,” she said.
He drew to a halt. The massive room was dimly lit, with only the indirect morning sunlight at her back offering any illumination. She heard him take a deep breath before turning around and returning to the door.
As the click of the latch echoed through the room, she asked, “Did you sleep well?”
“No.” Jasper resumed the long walk to where she stood, passing the many mural vignettes without looking. “But then, I’ve never slept well. There is too much to be done and not enough time in the day.”
“I didn’t sleep well either.” She absorbed the rush of sensation she always felt upon first sight of him. Interspersed between the Georgian-era vignettes of a picnic party were long, slender mirrors framed by cream- colored molding. The result was many Jaspers filling the room. Her reaction was equally magnified.
“I apologize for last night,” he said again, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. Lowering his head, he sealed his mouth over hers.
There was nothing remorseful about his kiss. It was hot, fierce, and lustful. Jasper’s tongue teased her lips open, then licked inside. The taste of him exploded across her senses, awakening a powerful need to possess him.
Eliza caught him to her with fevered desperation. Her arms encircled his shoulders, her fingers pushed into his silky hair and cupped his nape. Her breasts swelled against his chest, the lingering soreness between her legs forgotten in a rush of slick moisture. She wanted to bare his skin, rub her open mouth across it, caress him with her hands and uninhibited undulations of her body.
He groaned and twisted his mouth away.
“Jasper…?”
“I handled myself poorly.” He rested his temple against hers. “I know you won’t tolerate being dictated to.”
She no longer wanted to talk, but knew they must. Sexual passion could not be all they had. “H-how do you know that?”
“Because I pay attention to you.” He set her away from him. “And I’m a good judge of character.”
“You have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you beyond your livelihood and your wish to marry me.”
“You know how I look without my clothes on. And how I feel inside you.”
She wanted him inside her now. Ached for the feeling of fullness and delicious friction. The incendiary rush of climax and the repletion that followed.
Eliza linked her hands behind her back and circled him, her green skirts swaying around her legs. “That isn’t enough for me in quiet, contemplative moments. I think of you and how I act when I’m around you, and I do not recognize myself. You are the catalyst for the changes in me, yet you’re an enigma. Can you understand how difficult it is for me to experience such upheaval with no foundation upon which to lay it?”
He turned his head to keep their gazes connected. “I know it appears as if I haven’t altered as much or
