“But it’s not just that, you know.” Jack seemed to have taken a notion to widen her knowledge. “Eversleigh’s got something of a reputation—not just over women, although there’s that, of course. Well—” Jack gestured as they turned with the music. “He’s a past master there. But he’s a lot more powerful than that. Has connections all over, involved in all sorts of schemes and he’s as rich as Croesus to boot.” He paused to cast an affectionate glance her way. “He doesn’t have to call on his sister to pay his debts.”
Lenore returned his smile. “Does he have a sister?”
Jack shook his head. “Nor brother either, not now. Ricky, his younger brother, was killed at Waterloo.” He shot her a glance. “Wouldn’t mention it if I was you.”
“Of course not.”
“Anyway, that’s the reason he has to marry. Wouldn’t mention that to him, either.”
“I can assure you that marriage is the very last topic I would mention to His Grace.”
“Good. Mind you, it’ll be like the passing of an era—Montgomery marrying. He’s been a…well, an idol of sorts to us all.”
“He’s not that much older than you.”
Jack shrugged. “A few years. But it’s all that experience, you know.” He slanted her a rakish grin. “Dashed if I know how he’s fitted it all in.”
Lenore let that pass as the dance separated them. When she joined hands with Jack again, he was deep in cogitation.
“All in train for Friday night, then? No problems looming on the horizon?”
The vision of Eversleigh, somewhere in the crowd about them, waiting to pounce, came forcibly to Lenore’s mind. But any thoughts of seeking her brothers’ or father’s aid in dismissing Eversleigh had died with Jack’s eulogy. Eversleigh was exactly the sort of gentleman her family would wish her to wed. And no one in all of Christendom would understand her refusal of his suit. He was wealthy, powerful and devastatingly handsome. They would think she had run mad.
“Everything’s organised. The whole neighbourhood’s accepted, so there’ll be quite a crush.”
“Excellent.” Jack whirled her to a stop, bowing elegantly before her. He winked as he straightened, raising her from her curtsy. “And now I’ll leave you to your own devices, m’dear. As the effective host, I’m much in demand.”
Laughing, Lenore waved him away, but his words rang in her ears. Her own devices. She would have to deal with Eversleigh herself, quickly and decisively.
The opportunity to do so materialised almost instantly. The strains of a waltz drifted over the heads of the dancers. Lord Farningham appeared out of the crowd. Seeing the question in his eyes, Lenore inwardly sighed and smiled encouragingly. He had almost reached her when hard fingers curled possessively about her elbow.
“Our dance, I believe, Miss Lester.”
Lenore cast one glance up at Eversleigh’s hard face and knew it would be pointless to argue. Besides, this meeting between them had to come. The relative privacy of a waltz, surrounded by other guests, was a safe venue. Summoning an apologetic smile, she held out her hand to Lord Farningham. “I had forgot. Perhaps the next waltz, my lord?”
“Yes, of course.” Blushing slightly, Lord Farningham bowed.
Without further speech, Eversleigh led her to the floor, drawing her into his arms as if she was already his. Determined to remain in control, Lenore ignored it, locking her mind against the sensations teasing her senses. “I’m glad to have this opportunity to speak with you, Your Grace, for there is something I wish to say.”
“Oh?” Jason looked down at her, his expression forbidding. “What is that?”
Fixing her gaze on the space beyond his right shoulder, Lenore shut her ears to his warning and produced her rehearsed speech. “I am, as I said, sincerely honoured by your proposal. I think, however, that you have not yet accepted my refusal. I wish to make plain to you that my decision in this matter is unalterable, irrevocable. In short, there is nothing you could say or do that would convince me to marry. I would like to point out that this aversion of mine is not personal in nature. I simply do not feel inclined to marriage and, as you must be aware, there is no reason at all for me to wed.”
“You are wrong, Miss Lester.”
The strength in those words shook Lenore. She blinked, then recovered to ask haughtily, “Which part of my reasoning is at fault, Your Grace?”
“All of it.”
The conviction in his tone brought Lenore’s eyes to his. A will infinitely stronger than hers blazed in the grey depths.
“For a start,” Jason said, his accents clipped and definite, “you’re not honoured by my proposal in the least, you’re scared of it. You know damn well I’ve not accepted your refusal. There are more reasons than you know why we should wed. And as to there being nothing on this earth that could change your mind, don’t tempt me, Miss Lester.”
The threat was clear but Lenore was past caring. With a toss of her head she transferred her gaze into space. “I’ve given you my answer with as much reason as I can, Your Grace. If you chose to ignore it, that is none of my affair. However, I’m sure you can understand that I do not wish to discuss the matter further.”
Lenore felt the arm about her tighten, drawing her closer to his hard frame. Valiantly, she disregarded the hammering of her heart, keeping her head high and her expression untroubled.
“I’m very much afraid, Miss Lester, that I’m not as easily persuaded as other men. You have had your say; now it’s my turn.”