Jason’s eyes narrowed. It was on the tip of his tongue to retort that he had, at various times, found elements of interest at both the opera and theatre. Only a firm resolution to remain steadfastly correct in his dealings with his prospective bride kept him from calling her bluff. “I attend both, on occasion.”
“Have you seen Keane?” Lenore felt a peculiar thrill at having tempted the wolf and survived.
“Several times. He’s an excellent actor provided the part has scope for his talents.”
A discussion of the various theatres and the style of plays produced ensued, followed by a ruthlessly pointed examination of that other source of ton-ish entertainment, the Prince Regent.
“A keen mind utterly wasted,” was Jason’s scathing conclusion.
“Particularly given the opportunities he must have had.” Considering the facilities available to the Prince Regent. Lenore sighed. “Just being so close to all the bookshops would in itself be a boon to any scholar. I’d dearly love to have Hatchards within reach.”
Her pensive comment drew a searching glance from Jason. He had been patiently awaiting the right moment to introduce the topic of marriage, content to spend some time in idle chatter while she overcame her natural hesitancy. Stretching his long legs before him, he crossed his booted ankles, turning slightly so that he could keep her face in view. “Tell me, my dear, if you could design your own Utopia, what would you place within it?”
The unexpected question had Lenore turning to study his face, but she could see nothing beyond encouragement in his eyes. A strange recklessness had her in its grip; she felt no reticence in his presence and marvelled at the fact. It was a heady sort of freedom, knowing she was safe. Head on one side, she considered. “Gardens, certainly. Large gardens, like these.” With a wave of her hand, she indicated their surroundings. “So soothing to have a large garden to wander in. Tell me, Your Grace, do you wander your gardens frequently?”
Jason returned her smile. “I rarely need soothing. However,” he continued, “the gardens at the Abbey are similar to these, though not, I’m sorry to say, in such perfect state.”
“Your wife, no doubt, will remedy that.” Lenore shifted her gaze to the pool.
“So I sincerely hope,” Jason returned. “So, a garden and the staff to tend it. What else?”
“A house, of course. In the country.”
“Naturally. Sufficiently large and ap
propriately staffed. What of town?”
Lenore grimaced. “I admit that I’m curious to visit London, but the idea of living there does not entice.”
“Why not?”
“I hesitate to admit to such an unfashionable attitude but the thought of having to suffer society at large, as would be unavoidable should I take up residence in the capital, dissuades me from doing so.”
“I protest you do society a grave injustice, my dear. We’re not all fribbles and fops.”
“But this is my Utopia, remember?”
“Just so. So what else takes your fancy?”
“Well,” Lenore temporised, caught up in this strange game, “I enjoy acting as hostess at large gatherings—not much use having a large house and well-trained staff if one does not use them, after all.”
“Very true,” Jason agreed.
“I also enjoy my work among the folk on the estate. However, if this be Utopia, then I would rather not be in charge of the steward and bailiff.”
Jason merely nodded, foreseeing no problem there. The reins of his numerous estates were firmly in his grasp; he needed no help on that front. Remembering her studies, he asked, “What of entertainment? What features most in that sphere?”
“My library. I couldn’t live without my books.”
“The Abbey has an extensive library. My father was an invalid for some time and took delight in restocking it to the hilt.”
“Really?”
It was plain to the meanest intelligence that, of all the subjects they had touched upon, this was the one nearest her heart. Jason looked down into her green eyes and smiled. “There’s a huge range of classics as well as many newer volumes.”
“Have you had it catalogued?”
“Unfortunately not. My father died before he was able to attend to the matter.”