“Well, yes. Miss Ellis is rather clever.”
“Indeed,” Rayne agreed dryly, amused in spite of himself.
“She has volunteered to help you retrieve my letters.”
“Is that so?”
“She said you need a female to navigate the widow’s lair—and I agree.”
Frowning, Rayne shook his head. “You’ll recall, she already offered her help this morning and I refused.”
“Yes, but that was before she pointed out that being a woman has its benefits. She is more likely than you to get into Madame Sauville’s bedchamber undetected. You should let her help, Rayne. Besides, she could use the funds.”
“Funds?”
“I offered her a reward if she participates. As a gentleman, I cannot welsh now.”
Rayne felt a decided twinge of exasperation. “I told you to let me deal with Mrs. Sauville, Freddie.”
“I know, but I thought Miss Ellis raised a good point,” his cousin said stubbornly.
“Even so, I don’t want to put her at risk if something goes wrong.”
That argument at least made Freddie hesitate. “Well, perhaps you are right.”
Rayne refrained from replying that of course he was right. Freddie was not entirely witless, merely thoughtless. He often failed to think things through, as opposed to Rayne, who had spent the past decade analyzing possible outcomes of various actions, usually regarding issues of life and death.
Freddie gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “I suppose I let Miss Ellis sway me too readily, but she has an easy way about her…. When she talks to a chap, she sounds perfectly logical, as reasonable as any man.”
“That she does,” Rayne agreed.
“’Tis a pity you cannot choose her,” Freddie added almost to himself.
“Choose her for what?”
He angled his head, gazing at Rayne thoughtfully. “For your bride. Since you must marry, Miss Ellis might be a good choice for you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Rayne’s gaze sharpened on his cousin. “Are you foxed, Freddie?”
“Not a bit of it. Miss Ellis is a comfortable sort, and courageous besides—” He broke off, shaking his head. “Never mind. It was a damn fool notion.”
Rayne had gone very still, hiding the range of emotions his relative’s offhand suggestion had stirred in him. The chief one was startlement, followed swiftly by intrigue. “No, I want to hear your thoughts on the matter.”
Freddie’s expression turned sheepish. “You will only laugh.”
“I assure you, I won’t.”
“Well, in truth, Miss Ellis is much too plain to be your countess. On the other hand … her lack of looks could be an advantage. She will likely be grateful that you are willing to wed her and solve her financial difficulties. It isn’t as if she will have many offers at her age. Spinsters cannot be choosers, you know.”
Rayne had no chance to respond since Freddie was evidently warming to his theme. “She likely won’t complain of neglect if you seek your pleasures outside the marriage bed. And with her womanly hips, she should be able to bear children easily and thus give you the heir you need to satisfy your grandmother.”
Although Rayne disliked his cousin making such intimate observations about Madeline Ellis, he was definitely struck by the idea of wedding her.
“Moreover,” Freddie was saying, “she doesn’t seem to be the romantic sort, so you needn’t worry about her going all daft with love for you.”
That was a significant point in her favor, Rayne acknowledged silently, since he was determined that love would play no role in his marriage. He would allow himself no emotional ties with a wife—and wanted none from her either.
“Where is Miss Ellis now?”