There was no maliciousness in his words, but the implication sent her back poker iron straight. She resented his calling her a husband-hunter.
“I seriously doubt our objects are the same,” she said archly.
He reacted to that, sensing a challenge.
“As to my expectations,” he continued, “I shall be in Town as long as it takes to find a wife, a vague deadline I find unsatisfactory in the extreme.” He narrowed his eyes. “But do not fret; I am certain I can conduct my business swiftly, and be back to my dull life in the country so that you ladies can resume your usual pleasures. I shall be in your way no longer than I have to.”
His tone held an edge and his gaze was steady.
Jenny flushed.
“I will make certain you see the best young ladies, Miles,” Aunt Iris put in, “just as you require.”
“But you must stay as long as you like,” Cassandra rushed to add.
“I am in your debt.” He flickered a glance at Jenny to see how she reacted to the welcome he was having thrust upon him, as if he expected her to object. There was an undercurrent of amusement in all of his polite words. The thought that he was mocking her rankled.
“Too bad the entire business is not conducted as it is at Tattersall’s,” she said before she could stop herself. “It would make it so much simpler. One could simply look them all over and strike the deal in one afternoon.”
She cursed her temper as soon as she’d spoken. Aunt Iris would be in a faint in a moment.
But he only laughed. “If only finding a wife were as simple as locating a fine piece of horseflesh. But there are similarities. I have heard tell that the offerings at Almack’s are displayed not unlike what you describe. Some differences are significant, however. For example, one must dress in evening clothes when making the inspection of the candidates, which is less comfortable.”
Cassandra gasped, confused by the jest.
“Not to mention the disadvantage of not one getting a clear view of the candidate’s teeth,” she replied, taking a delicate sip of her tea. She astonished herself, but his clever rejoinder lit a strange excitement inside her. It was by far the most interesting conversation she could remember, and she could not still her tongue.
“Jenny! What a strange thing to say. Do not mind my cousin, my lord,” Cassandra said lightly. “She has a rather odd view of polite society. People remark on it all the time. Why, she only began attending functions this year when I was old enough. She only comes to keep her eye on me.”
She looked at Jenny with the same warm regard one might give a beloved spaniel.
“How fortunate you are, then, to have Miss Alt,” he said, and his voice and gaze were warm, as if he really thought so.
Jenny felt a rush of embarrassment. Perhaps she had gone too far, made a fool of herself with her rush of temper. “I do not like balls, that is all. There is always such a crush. And I am a terrible dancer, and I . . .”
“Ah,” he said, and she knew he was laughing at her again.
The conversation turned to Aunt Iris’s plans. He listened intently to the ideas she spouted for his introduction into the London bon ton.
Jenny had to admire her aunt. She knew her way in society. Her suggestion to begin subtly, having Hatherleigh accompany them on various outings, such as walks in the park, shopping, going to church this Sunday, was an excellent idea, and the earl was impressed.
He accepted her invitation to stay for dinner, and as the women adjourned upstairs to change, Cassandra strolled beside Jenny, a dreamy look on her face. “He isn’t at all what I expected,” she said softly.
This disturbed Jenny. As she slipped into a lavender silk gown, she argued with herself, reasoning that there was no cause for alarm. If Cassandra decided that the earl suited her, and the feeling was mutual, why should it distress her?
He was fine catch. No doubt the moment the word was circulated that he was seeking a wife, all the ton would be curious. Despite his past, he only needed a chance to make a fine impression to rectify it.
That he assuredly would do. He would show himself to be intelligent, amusing, proud, with enough arrogance to make him interesting. These would not be weighed with as much importance as his fortune—for parents assessing his worth—and his startling good looks to ignite the fantasies of the young women who would, no doubt, vie to catch his eye.
If Cassandra should be the one to do it, Jenny should be pleased. It was what she wanted for her, after all: a good match, a happy one.
When she was dressed, she inspected her reflection in the mirror. She looked so ordinary.
She liked looking ordinary. She did.
But tonight it dissatisfied her. On impulse, she removed her spectacles. Touching her hand to her hair, she wondered if she might do something more flattering. Because they had a guest for dinner, she told herself. It was not often Aunt Iris entertained.
No. She could not lie to herself. She didn’t want to be invisible tonight.