“You worry about the possibility I might be with child,” she argued.
“I take that very seriously, yes. But why ask for marriage now, instead of waiting to be certain?” Jasper leaned back. “Tell me truthfully, Eliza. Is your fortune an obstacle between us? Do you think it matters to me?”
She shook her head without hesitation. When he continued to seem expectant, she spoke the negation aloud, “No.”
“Good.” He released her, and set both his hands on his upraised knee. “Let us make a bargain, shall we? I will secure Lord Melville’s blessing, and you’ll say ‘yes’ to me-”
“Jasper, I would swiftly bore you.”
“Then,” he pressed on, “the banns will be read. That will give us the time we need to find the source of your trouble, discern whether or not you are increasing, and spend some time together. If, after all of that, you still believe we don’t suit and cannot be happy together, we’ll break the engagement at the end of the Season. Is that reasonable enough for you?”
“It isn’t easy to break an engagement.”
“But it can be done.”
“You claim not to be reasoned about this, yet you present me with a practical plan that affords me the opportunity to reach solid conclusions.” She sighed. “I’m faced with two difficult choices: Make a decision now with too little information, or progress further than I ever intended in order to gather the information I believe we both need.”
“If only you were impulsive,” he teased. “I might have been able to convince you to elope with me and spare you all the rumination.”
“How can you be so confident about this?” she complained. “Why can I not have some of that surety?”
“I make my decisions here”-he tapped his abdomen- “and they are usually instantaneous. You make your decisions here”-he tapped her temple with his index finger-“and that takes more time. I’m trying to give you that time, Eliza, while staving off my own impatience. An engagement is the compromise we reach.”
Worrying her lower lip, Eliza struggled to find the courage to say what she shouldn’t.
“Talk to me,” he urged.
“I cannot decide if it’s desire goading me to agree against my better sense, and I’m also concerned that as the novelty of bedding me becomes less engaging you will want me less and less, until eventually you no longer want me at all. After we are bound to one another, it will be too late to realize we had only lust, which was quickly sated.”
His nostrils flared. “If the possibility of waning interest concerns you, I can prove I desire you for more than sex. I won’t ask you to give yourself to me again until we are wed, but I’m available to you whenever and wherever you want me. Chivalry and mores are no restraints to me. I learned long ago never to spite myself; the only person who loses is me. You should know of that aspect of my character, I suppose, before you wed me.”
To be wanted so keenly…Eliza finally understood why her mother had been addicted to the feeling. It was so very tempting. And Jasper was irresistible.
To have him whenever she wanted. The thought of commanding sex from him, at any time and in any place, was impossibly arousing.
“Eliza,” he murmured, drawing her focus back to him. “Give yourself permission to take what you want, for once. You might enjoy it more than you think.”
That was partially what she was afraid of. But her fear wasn’t a strong enough deterrent to mitigate her memories of the night before and the lingering happiness she’d felt upon waking.
“Speak to Melville,” she said. “Then, ask me again.”
Chapter 11
“I would never have expected this of you,” Westfield said, rocking back on his heels.
“That makes two of us,” Jasper said dryly.
The Valmont ballroom was larger than many, but the broad expanse and thirty-foot ceilings did little to ease the crush of guests. Worse than the crowd was Jasper’s realization that he was an object of curiosity. Having spent the entirety of his life avoiding notice whenever possible, he found it decidedly uncomfortable to be the center of attention. But the news of the notoriously reticent Miss Eliza Martin’s betrothal to a man few people had ever heard of was apparently the most interesting item of discussion. His appearance was being examined by nearly everyone, as if the reason he’d won her could be determined visually.
Mindful of Eliza’s pride, he had dressed with care. While he’d elected to wear black to minimize his size, his coat and breeches were flawlessly tailored. The materials used were exceptional, as were the diamond in his cravat pin and the sapphire in the ring on his right hand. The result was understated yet expensive elegance, which he hoped mitigated any speculation that he wanted Eliza for her fortune.
“You are completely inappropriate for her,” the earl went on.
“Agreed.”
Jasper looked for Eliza and found her. She appeared composed, if slightly irritated. The frown marring her brow betrayed both her peevishness and bemusement. He smiled, appreciating her artless honesty.
“She would be better served with me,” Westfield said. “How can any woman live the life you do, Bond?”
“I expect Miss Martin and I will discover the answer as time progresses.”
Westfield stepped forward, then turned to face him, effectively taking up the entirety of his view. “Is there anything you will not do in your quest to ruin Montague?”
“This has nothing to do with Montague.”
“Of course it does.”
“On the periphery,” Jasper conceded, sidestepping to resume his viewing of Eliza.
“Wait.” The earl moved in front of him again. “Were you talking about her last night? That nonsense about wanting something badly?”
“Yes.” He wanted her now. Eliza had worn another of her mother’s gowns, this one in a lovely rose hue. It was as simple in cut as the sapphire gown she’d worn days ago, but the bodice was provocatively low and the waist perfectly snug. The slender beauty of her figure was a joy to behold.
“Bloody hell.” Westfield looked over his shoulder at Eliza. “Do you love her?”
“I enjoy her, and I can make her happy.”
“I doubt you can. Not for the long term. And how does enjoyment signify? I enjoy half a dozen women any given fortnight, yet you don’t see me proposing to any of them.”
“Therein lies the difference between us,” Jasper drawled. “There are very few things I’ve enjoyed in my life, and none to the degree with which I enjoy Miss Martin’s company.”
“Now, you have me intrigued,” Westfield complained. “I’ll forever be wondering what I missed about Miss Martin.”
“No, you will not. You’ll forget about her in any other capacity than as my wife, and that will be the end of it.”
“Hmm…” Westfield turned around, searching. “I have yet to see Montague. I should like to know how he’s taking the news of your engagement.”
Jasper didn’t care what Montague thought.
The moment the realization hit, his spine straightened and his breath hissed out between his teeth. Shifting his position, he canted his body away from Eliza, his hands flexing at his sides. Soon, he would be able to put Montague behind him, but not now. Not yet. The earl had still to pay for his sins and the sins of his father.
Eliza. She made him forget himself, which was one of the reasons why he needed her. But she couldn’t serve that purpose now. Not yet. His plan was in the final stages after years of frustrated waiting and endless hours of work.
“Mr. Bond.”
Turning his head, Jasper watched as Sir Richard Tolliver approached. Although Jasper had believed Tolliver couldn’t be any thinner, it appeared he was tonight. His dark coat hung loosely on his shoulders and his modestly embroidered waistcoat gaped a little just above the top button. “Good evening, Sir Richard.”