A Lady Never Surrenders Part 3

Once more he turned into Proud Pinter. "It isn't a matter of payment, madam. I choose my own a.s.signments, and this one isn't to my taste. Good day." Turning on his heel, he headed for the door.

Oh, dear, she hadn't meant to run him off entirely. "So you're reneging on your agreement with Oliver?" she called out.

He halted.

She pressed her point hastily. "At the very least, you owe me an investigation of my suitors' backgrounds. If you don't give me that, I'll tell my brother you've refused to do what he hired you for."

When he clenched his hands into fists, a twinge of guilt a.s.sailed her. He'd been so nice about her dream earlier that she felt bad forcing his hand. But blast it-it was his job. Mr. Pinter had done it for Minerva and Gabe; he sure as the devil could do it for her.

He faced her once more, his expression now carefully bland. "I daresay when I tell him whom you're considering, he'll side with me. He was not happy when your sister chose Mr. Masters."

"But that worked out well, which I'll remind him of if he protests. He won't, though-he knows how important it is that I marry."

Mr. Pinter searched her face so intently that it made her uncomfortable. "And what of love?" he asked in a hoa.r.s.e rasp. "Do you love any of these men?"

He had the audacity to speak of that when he knew her situation? "Gran isn't giving me a chance to fall in love."

"So tell her you want more time. As long as she knows that you're open to the idea, I'm sure she'll-"

"Give me a reprieve? You know better than that. She'll say that I've had nearly a year already, and I frittered it away."

She'd be right, too. But Celia had hoped that her siblings' devious plans would work and put an end to Gran's diabolical ultimatum. Instead, her brothers and sister had all given in and married.

Or rather, they'd fallen in love. It wasn't fair. It had been easy for her beautiful sister to find a husband-she'd simply gone after the man she'd always wanted. Gabe had married his best friend's sister, Jarret had found a wife who loved brewing as much as he, and Oliver had practically fallen into the perfect woman.

But Celia had no old beaus waiting in the wings, no best friends with eligible brothers, and no fellow sharpshooters who fancied her. She had three men who might consider marrying her. She had to make do with that.

"It's too late for love, Mr. Pinter," she said wearily. "Gran is breathing down my neck, and this is hardly the season for matrimony. There are a few country b.a.l.l.s and little else before the end of the year. The likelihood of my stumbling upon any other eligible gentlemen at this late date is quite small."

"There must be someone else, someone more-"

"No one whom I know, whom I'm comfortable with. At least I like these gentlemen. I can see myself married to one of them." Possibly. If worse came to worst. "And since they're all t.i.tled and wealthy, Gran would find them irreproachable." Which was the point, though she couldn't tell him that.

His expression turned cynical. "So that's what you're looking for in a husband," he said coldly. "A rich man of rank."

"No!" How like him to a.s.sume she was mercenary. "That's what Gran is looking for. I merely want a man I can tolerate. But if my suitors are wealthy, at least they won't marry me simply to gain my fortune." As Papa had done with Mama. "I prefer not to marry a fortune hunter."

"I see." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Still, wealthy lords and fortune hunters aren't your only choices. Surely there are other respectable gentlemen."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" Suddenly it dawned on her. "Wait, is it because my suitors are n.o.blemen? I know that you consider t.i.tled gentlemen to be beneath contempt, but-"

"That's not true," he grumbled. "I count Lord Kirkwood and his brother among my friends, and even, if I venture to be presumptuous, your brothers. It's not all men of rank I find beneath contempt-just the ones who prey on women. Like Devonmont. And probably the other two, as well."

"To my knowledge, none of them has ever taken advantage of a respectable female. Even my brothers had their ... dalliances as bachelors."

"So did your father."

He would point that out. "That's different. Papa broke his marriage vows. That doesn't mean my suitors would do so." She swallowed. "Unless you think it impossible for a woman like me to keep men like them satisfied and happy?"

He started. "No! I wasn't trying to say ... That is-"

"It's all right, Mr. Pinter," she said, fighting to keep the hurt out of her voice. "I know what you think of me."

His gaze locked with hers, confusing her with its sudden fierceness. "You have no idea what I think of you."

She twisted her bracelet nervously, and the motion drew his eyes down to her hands. But as his gaze came back up, it slowed, lingering on her bosom.

Could Mr. Pinter ... Was it possible that he ...

Certainly not! Proper Pinter would never be interested in a reckless female of her stamp. Why, he didn't even like her.

She'd dressed carefully today, hoping to sway him into doing her bidding by showing that she could look and act like a lady, hoping to gain a measure of his respect.

But the intimate way his gaze continued up past her bosom to her throat, and then paused again at her mouth, was more how her brothers looked at their wives. It wasn't so much disrespectful as it was ... interested.

No, she must be imagining that. He was merely trying to make her uncomfortable; she was misinterpreting the seeming heat in his glance. She refused to let herself be taken in by imagining what wasn't there. Not after the nasty things Ned had said to her when she was fourteen.

I only kissed you to win a bet, you know.

She'd learned her lesson then. Men had an annoying habit of pretending interest in a woman just to gain something they wanted. Just look at Mama, dreaming of fairy tales when Papa had been dreaming only of finance.

Well, she would marry a man who didn't need or want her fortune. Mr. Pinter didn't fall into that category.

And given how blank his expression became as his gaze met hers, she'd been right to be skeptical. He would never be interested in her in that way.

He confirmed it by saying, with his usual formality, "I doubt any man would consider your ladyship unacceptable as a wife."

Oh, when he turned all hoity-toity, she could just murder him. "Then we agree that the gentlemen in question would find me satisfactory," she said, matching his cold tone. "So I don't see why you a.s.sume they'd be unfaithful."

"Some men are unfaithful no matter how beautiful their wives are," Mr. Pinter growled.

He thought her beautiful?

There she went again, reading too much into his words. He was only making a point. "But you have no reason to believe that these gentlemen would be. Unless there's some dark secret you already know about them that I do not?"

Glancing away, he muttered a curse under his breath. "No."

"Then here's your chance to find out the truth about their characters. Because I prefer facts to opinions. And I was under the impression that you do, too."

Take that, Mr. Pinter! Hoist by your own petard. The man always insisted on sticking to the facts.

And he was well aware that she'd caught him out, for he scowled, then crossed his arms over his chest. His rather impressive chest, from what she could tell beneath his black coat and plain buff waistcoat.

"I can't believe I'm the only person who would object to these gentlemen," he said. "What about your grandmother? Have you consulted her?"

She lifted her eyes heavenward. He was being surprisingly resistant to her plans. "I don't need to. Every time one of them asks to dance with me, she beams. She's forever urging me to smile at them or attempt some flirtation. And if they so much as press my hand or take me for a stroll, she quizzes me with great glee on what was said and done."

"She's been letting you go out on private strolls with these scoundrels?" Mr. Pinter said in sheer outrage.

"They aren't scoundrels."

"I swear to G.o.d, you're a lamb among the wolves," he muttered.

That image of her, so unlike how she saw herself, made her laugh. "I've spent half my life in the company of my brothers. Every time Gabe went to shoot, I went with him. At every house party that involved his friends, I was urged to show off my abilities with a rifle. I think I know how to handle a man, Mr. Pinter."

His glittering gaze bored into her. "There's a vast difference between gamboling about in your brother's company with a group of his friends and letting a rakeh.e.l.l like Devonmont or a devilish foreigner like Basto stroll alone with you down some dark garden path."

A blush heated her cheeks. "I didn't mean strolls of that sort, sir. I meant daytime walks about our gardens and such, with servants in plain view. All perfectly innocent."

He snorted. "I doubt it will stay that way."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, why are you being so stubborn? You know I must marry. Why do you even care whom I choose?"

"I don't care," he protested. "I'm merely thinking of how much of my time will be wasted investigating suitors I already know are unacceptable."

She let out an exasperated breath. Of course. With him, it was always about money. Heaven forbid he should waste his time helping her.

"Your family has also hired me to investigate your parents' deaths," he went on. "Would you rather have this scheme of yours draw my attention away from that matter?"

Leave it to him to try and make her feel guilty about that. "Of course not, but you said that you're waiting to hear from Major Rawdon and Elsie's family. Aside from questioning my nurse and Mr. Virgil, you aren't terribly busy right now, are you?"

Hah! He certainly didn't like that observation. Eyes like ice bored into her. "I do have to find your nurse and Mr. Virgil. And I have other clients. But if you could present me with more acceptable choices, I'm sure I could find time to examine their backgrounds and give you a thorough report."

"If I had other choices, I would have presented them," she snapped. "But if you know of some eligible gentlemen you can strong-arm into courting me, then by all means, tell me. I'm open to suggestions."

He blinked. "There has to be some fellow-"

"Right." Lifting her skirts, she headed for the door. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Pinter. I can see I'll have to pursue this on my own."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She glared at him. "That should be obvious. Since you refuse to investigate the gentlemen I've chosen, I shall have to do it myself."

Chapter Three.

Jackson gaped at her, wondering how this had all turned so terribly wrong. But he knew how. The woman was clearly daft. Bedlam-witted.

And trying to drive him in the same direction. "You can't be serious. Since when do you know anything about investigating people?"

She planted her hands on her hips. "You won't do it, so I must."

G.o.d save him, she was the most infuriating, maddening- "How do you propose to manage that?"

She shrugged. "Ask them questions, I suppose. The house party for Oliver's birthday is next week. Lord Devonmont is already coming, and it will be easy to convince Gran to invite my other two. Once they're here, I could try sneaking into their rooms and listening in on their conversations or perhaps bribing their servants-"

"You've lost your b.l.o.o.d.y mind," he hissed.

Only after she lifted an eyebrow did he realize he'd cursed so foully in front of her. But the woman would turn a sane man into a blithering idiot! The thought of her wandering in and out of men's bedchambers, risking her virtue and her reputation, made his blood run cold.

"You don't seem to understand," she said in a clipped tone, as if speaking to a child. "I have to catch a husband somehow. I need help, and I've nowhere else to turn. Minerva is rarely here, and Gran's matchmaking efforts are as subtle as a sledgehammer. And even if my brothers and their wives could do that sort of work, they're preoccupied with their own affairs. That leaves you, who seem to think that suitors drop from the skies at my whim. If I can't even entice you to help me for money, then I'll have to manage on my own."

Turning on her heel, she headed for the door.

h.e.l.l and blazes, she was liable to attempt such an idiotic thing, too. She had some fool notion she was invincible. That's why she spent her time shooting at targets with her brother's friends, blithely unconcerned that her rifle might misfire or a stray bullet hit her by mistake.

The wench did as she pleased, and the men in her family let her. Someone had to curb her insanity, and it looked as if it would have to be him.

"All right!" he called out. "I'll do it."

She halted but didn't turn around. "You'll find out what I need in order to snag one of my choices as a husband?"

"Yes."

"Even if it means being a trifle underhanded?"

He gritted his teeth. This would be pure torture. The underhandedness didn't bother him; he'd be as underhanded as necessary to get rid of those d.a.m.ned suitors. But he'd have to be around the too-tempting wench a great deal, if only to make sure the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds didn't compromise her.

Well, he'd just have to find something to send her running the other way. She wanted facts? By thunder, he'd give her enough d.a.m.ning facts to blacken her suitors thoroughly.

Then what?

If you know of some eligible gentlemen you can strong-arm into courting me, then by all means, tell me. I'm open to suggestions.

All right, so he had no one to suggest. But he couldn't let her marry any of her ridiculous choices. They would make her miserable-he was sure of it. He must make her see that she was courting disaster.

Then he'd find someone more eligible for her. Somehow.

She faced him. "Well?"

"Yes," he said, suppressing a curse. "I'll do whatever you want."

A disbelieving laugh escaped her. "That I'd like to see." When he scowled, she added hastily, "But thank you. Truly. And I'm happy to pay you extra for your efforts, as I said."

He stiffened. "No need."

"Nonsense," she said firmly. "It will be worth it to have your discretion."

His scowl deepened. "My clients always have my discretion."

"But the only client in my family actually paying you at the moment is Oliver. I want to be your client on my own terms, especially since you must keep my plans secret from him and Gran."