ing the approach to the summit, my dear. Once reached I imagine I’ll quickly lose interest, so I’m putting it off as long as possible. And you? I trust someone a bit more…approachable has caught your eye?”
“No. ”
“No?” Rohan echoed in mock horror. “My dear boy, you are ill. ‘Tell me no more of constancy, that frivolous pretense. ’”
“You know nothing about it,” Reading said in a less than equable voice.
“Faith, I’m ‘as constant as a northern star,’” Rohan quoted back cheerfully. “For ‘there is nothing as constant as inconstancy. ’”
“I’m not in the mood to swap poets with you, Francis,” Charles said.
“My dear, that voice could almost be called surly. Perhaps you should ride to Château de Giverney and give in to temptation,” he suggested.
“And be her ruination?”
“When has our kind ever cared about such things? Fais ce que tu voudras, child. Do what thou wilt. She won’t object, I promise you. ”
Reading swung his head around, gimlet-eyed. “What do you mean by that?”
“Are you going to call me out, Charles? I meant nothing but that the poor chit is enamored of you, and if you choose, you could take advantage of that fact. ”
“No,” he said shortly. “Let us talk of other things. ”
“Certainly. Do what thou wilt,” he said mischievously. “Did I just hear you growl?”
“I went and looked around the street where you were shot,” he said grimly, changing the subject. “And we will resist discussing whether I wish the bullet had come a little closer. You are damn irritating at times, Francis. ”
“It’s part of my charm. ”
“I could see no way the shooting could have been an accident. It would have been a tricky shot to make, and I wonder at anyone even attempting it. It could have just as easily hit whoever else rode in the carriage with you, and it was woefully inadequate. ”
Author: Anne Stuart
“Woefully so,” Rohan echoed lightly.
“So who would most like to kill you?”
“Apart from you at this particular moment? The two men who covet my titles come to mind. My dear French cousin Etienne would be delighted to see me dead. He’d come into the title, the estates, and he’d no longer have to sully his hands with common people. He really is the most insufferable snob. He thinks the canaille are subhuman, made only to serve him. ”
“Don’t we all?”
“Oh, heavens, don’t tell me you’re a reformer?” Rohan said with deep distress. “I much prefer my creature comforts to a fair and just world. My servants are rightly terrified of me, and I never have to do a thing to prove how heinous I can be. ”
“Everyone is rightly terrified of you, Francis. ”
“With the exception of you, dear boy. ” He thought for a moment. “And Elinor. I imagine that’s a great deal of her charm. Is Miss Lydia terrified of you?”
“We will not discuss her,” Reading said in a flat voice. “So tell me, do you think Etienne was behind the assassination attempt?”
“Probably not. He strikes me as someone more likely to use poison. I won’t say it’s impossible, but he wouldn’t be my first choice. ” Rohan rose and poured himself another glass of wine. He held the decanter up in a silent question, and Reading responded by raising his glass to be filled as well.
“Who else?”
“There’s my dear English cousin, the one who currently thinks he holds my title. ” Rohan’s lip curled. “The so-charming Joseph Hapgood. ”
“If you were dead there’d be no claim on it. He’d have it free and clear,” Reading pointed out.
“He already has it free and clear, as long as I’m exiled from England upon pain of death,” Rohan said lightly. “And I don’t fancy ending up on Tower Hill, separated from my head. ”