“Why don’t you ask it yourself, madam?” His own impertinence surprised him, given all that was at stake, but he forged ahead nevertheless. “It is with understandable urgency that I desire to make your acquaintance through something other than an embroidered barrier or the indomitable Hastings.”
“Soon enough, my impatient applicant,” she said with an indulgent smile in her voice. “Do carry on, Wivy.”
The blonde grinned at him, and if Zeus didn’t know any better, he’d think she gave him an encouraging nod, indicating he was doing well. “Please tell us about your strengths—and before you ask, I don’t mean how many stone you can lift or carry but your personality strengths, those that comprise your moral fiber.”
From the hidden corner, a rusty cackle of what he thought passed for laughter jolted through him, chasing the shadows from his memories. “I think we can glean that one ourselves, Wivy!”
“Madam?” He turned to face his invisible adversary and bowed his head in a show of respect before yanking it upright and glaring at that damnable shield. No doubt, she could see him while obscuring herself. “What character strength do you believe you’ve already ascertained and on such short acquaintance?” And by God, what the deuce was he doing bantering with her? This virago who hid herself and ordered others to do her bidding, likely so ugly or so old she feared running off suitors at first glance. But no…that oddly enchanting, uninhibited cackle of a laugh couldn’t belong to a crone. Or could it?
In return, the chosen applicant will receive a genteel, amiable wife ready to bear his children. Female in question is of sound intellect and generally appealing countenance, he recalled, hoping to mitigate his growing concerns. Appealing countenance, heh? He’d like to see for himself.
“Honesty, Mr. Tanner. Based on your pithy replies, it is quite apparent you possess forthright honesty.” Before he could react to that pronouncement, she continued. “Please tell us about your education.”
“It came from the streets of London. Back alleys too.”
“Then you know nothing of estate management?” She sounded vastly disappointed.
“I wasn’t asked about my education in the realm of estate management, now was I? Only of my experience.”
“I’m asking now.”
“Last I checked, the streets of London contained lending libraries. While my practical application of such knowledge may be nominal…” He placed the tips of two fingers to the side of his head and rapped lightly. “The information is here, I promise you, simply waiting for the opportunity to be utilized.” Zeus started to rattle off a number of facts about Amherst and the vast lands comprising it but decided demonstrating his extensive knowledge of crops and herds, of tenants and taxes could wait until he garnered some answers. “I’d like to begin asking a few questions of my own, starting with how the blazes a female who lacks the gumption to show her face expects to convince me of her ‘readiness to bear my children’? That is part of the bargain, as I recall, and unless you intend to practice immaculate conception right along with the Blessed Virgin, you’ll be showing me significantly more than your face before the deed is done!”
“Mr. Tanner!” The daffodil’s cheeks flamed. Her hands fluttered. “I— I…”
He felt rotten. Mum had taught him better. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to render you speechless nor take my honest impatience out on anyone.”
A muffled snort, then another splurt of hilarity met his ears. “Wivy, you may leave now. I’ll conduct the rest of the interview.” The embroidered scene trembled, followed by yet another snort. “I do believe I’d like to be alone with our guest.”
Satisfaction surged through Zeus. Now he and the mysterious Lady Scandal would get somewhere. Somewhere that led him closer to her body, and closer to Amherst. Although, at the moment, he was more eager to meet the “lady” who possessed such unladylike laughter—laughter he somehow found eminently engaging—than he was to seek redress for ancient acts of contempt and derision. Trifling now, they almost seemed, when he was faced with his future.
Though since meeting her—or nearly so—his conscience nagged, poking at him like a pointy pebble in his boot. Tell her the truth. All of it. Ignoring the annoying sense of scruples, Zeus rammed his hair back, wishing he could see through the partition as easily.
As she admired the slightly muddled specimen of male perfection through the tightly woven threads of the divider, Juliet had to remember she was invisible to him. One wouldn’t know it, the way he fixed his gaze upon her precise location, fairly stripping her bare with the fierce expression he directed her way.
An evocative warmth spiraled through her in the wake of his heated gaze, tensing her muscles and setting her on edge. Flickering about her stomach and bringing a boldness to her tongue she’d not employed before, not with a father and then a husband who each maintained womenfolk should be blindly—and silently—obedient in all things.
Feminine opinions were not to be voiced. Certainly not heard and considered.
But from the way Mr. Tanner held himself and beheld her through the screen, all confident cockiness and self assurance in spite of the outrageous answers he supplied, Juliet doubted he’d allow himself to be threatened by any “mere” woman.
In fact, part of her dared speculate…might he solicit her opinions on occasion, given how, even though he made his reluctance keenly apparent, he remained amenable to discussing each and every query topic she broached? A husband who talked with her! Would that not be sparkish fine?
And Lord how her throat hurt! He made her laugh, this particular applicant. Causing the rusty, seldom-used reflex to scrape up her neck and emerge without constraint, sounding somewhat like a braying donkey she feared, but oh, how wonderful it felt. Almost as wonderful as the wicked, wanton urges he brought forth with nothing but his presence.
Juliet’s fingers ached to touch the strong, corded muscles of his neck visible above his simply tied cravat, the muscles that even now
