To Pleasure a Lady (Courtship Wars 1)

“Oh, but it is you I came to see. I would very much like to become better acquainted with you. I admire you prodigiously-a lady courageous enough to manage her own academy.” Accepting the seat Arabella offered, Lady Eleanor sent her a shrewd look. “And any woman who can resist my brother is someone I want to know. I also,” she added before Arabella could think how to respond, “wish to apologize for my aunt’s officious meddling in your affairs.”

Torn between amusement and caution, Arabella took a wing chair opposite her guest. “I suppose I should not have stated my opinions so fiercely.”

“You were gravely provoked. I do hope you will forgive Aunt Beatrix. She means well and she has been like a mother to me, drumming proper conduct into my head. But she had no right to rebuke you for not disavowing your friend. Your anger was wholly justified.”

Arabella smiled ruefully. “Perhaps…but normally I wouldn’t dream of making a public scene. It was very bad of me to dampen the evening for you and your friends.”

“But you didn’t dampen it for me. I was thoroughly intrigued.” Eleanor gave a charming laugh. “I confess I should like to hear more about Fanny Irwin. She is said to be an Incomparable among Cyprians.”

“Your brother would not be happy if I shared tales of a notorious highflyer with you,” Arabella pointed out.

Eleanor’s throaty laughter was engaging. “True. But Marcus doesn’t dictate to me, nor does he try to keep me smothered in swaddling clothes the way our aunt does. In truth, he is the best of guardians.”

“Is he?” Arabella replied curiously.

“Yes, but he does like to have his way, so I can see how there might occasionally be friction between the two of you, as there appeared to be last night.” Her smile turned mischievous. “It is good to foil him sometimes, though. Men deserve to be kept on their toes…shaken up now and then. It won’t do to let them think they have the upper hand all the time. Don’t you agree?”

They shared a congenial laugh, and Arabella found herself relaxing. She liked Marcus’s sister immensely.

Eleanor’s next comment, however, took her aback. “I confess we were all astonished to learn Marcus proposed to you, since he has always had

an aversion to marriage. But now that I have met you, I can see why he acted so precipitously.”

Arabella winced. “Lady Eleanor…” she began, determined to put period to any misunderstandings about her future with Marcus. But his sister interrupted.

“Please, we needn’t be so formal. Just Eleanor will do. I have yet to grow accustomed to the title of lady, since Marcus’s petition to the Crown to raise my precedence to an earl’s sister was only recently granted. And may I call you Arabella?”

“Of course you may. But I must tell you, I don’t intend to wed your brother.”

Eleanor’s lively expression turned serious. “I do so wish you would. I would dearly love to have you as a sister. Of course I have Marcus, and Heath and Drew are like brothers to me. But it isn’t the same as having other women to talk to and confide in. And I think we could become great friends.”

Arabella’s mouth curved in unwilling amusement. “Surely you don’t expect me to accept your brother’s offer simply to provide you with a sister?”

She dimpled. “Well, I suppose not. But I want you to accept for his sake as well. I think you will be the ideal wife for him. Marcus needs a challenge. He would never be happy with a milquetoast bride.”

“I am flattered you think so,” Arabella said evenly, “but there are many other considerations to take into account when deciding to wed.”

“I know,” Eleanor agreed. “I have had my share of proposals, two of which I accepted before changing my mind. And truly, I can sympathize with your desire for independence. I feel much the same way-not wanting my life to be controlled by a husband. But Marcus would be a far more lenient husband than most.” When Arabella remained silent, Eleanor leaned forward earnestly. “Tell me your other objections so I can plead Marcus’s case.”

Unable to help laughing, Arabella shook her head. “I applaud your zealousness on his behalf, but honestly, there is nothing you could say that would induce me to wed your brother, or anyone else for that matter.”

Eleanor was not deterred, however. “It cannot be that you find Marcus uninteresting. In terms of wit and charm, he is leagues above all my current suitors.” Receiving no response to her leading comment, she added, “I confess I am bored to death with my beaux at present, they are so deadly dull. That, or wicked fortune hunters, which admittedly are much more intriguing but too dangerous to toy with, even in fun.”

“I don’t find your brother dull in the least,” Arabella admitted.

Eleanor sent her another perceptive glance. “Despite his reputation as something of a rake, Marcus is not so very wicked-no worse than the typical nobleman, at least. Perhaps you have heard rumors about his former mistresses, but I can assure you, he has no real interest in any of them.”

“And I can assure you that his mistresses are of no import to me,” she dissembled.

“You are wise, then.” For the first time, Eleanor looked wistful. “I broke off my first engagement when I discovered my betrothed kept a mistress…although I have since wondered if perhaps I made a dreadful mistake. I would not want you to make the same mistake, Arabella, and harbor regrets for the rest of your life.”

Other than raising a polite eyebrow, Arabella refrained from responding, but Eleanor seemed not to notice. Instead, she turned her head to gaze out the parlor window, apparently lost in her own somber reflections. “Marcus was very understanding, even when I jilted my second betrothed. He is the very best of brothers. I don’t know what I would have done without him when I was a child. Our parents were not particularly…warm. I used to live for his visits home from school.”

Suddenly shaking herself, she returned her focus to Arabella and summoned a bright smile. “But enough about me. It is you and Marcus I am concerned about. I think he must be smitten with you, since nothing else would induce him to consider matrimony so suddenly.”

“Would you care for tea, Eleanor?” Arabella asked pointedly, determined to close the subject.

Finally taking the hint, Eleanor laughed. “Yes, I would, since I am parched. And I promise not to pester you any further just now about wedding my brother.”