Free The Pursuit Of Marriage by Victoria Alexander Page B

liaisons—”
    “Illicit liaisons?” He laughed.
    She glared. “Why is it, my lord, whenever I confront you with one of your sins you seem both surprised and pleased?”
    “I don’t know.” His grin widened. “Obviously, it’s yet another flaw in my character. You have already determined I am not perfect.”
    She drew her brows together. “And I believe I have already apologized about that observation.”
    “Have you,” he murmured. “I can’t recall.”
    “Well, perhaps not specifically…”
    “Nonetheless, I make no apologies about my lack of perfection. However, we are not discussing my deficits—”
    “Are you betrothed, then?” Her voice was cool, as if the answer didn’t matter to her in the least. He wondered if indeed it did. And why.
    “No.”
    She shook her head. “Then I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
    “Nor should you, although I am beginning to understand.” The true purpose of his mother’s so-called dying wish was becoming all too apparent. “My mother is convinced she is about to take her last breath
    —”
    “Oh dear.” Genuine sympathy sounded in Miss Effington’s voice. “My mother said she was unwell, but I had no idea.”
    “It was quite unexpected and has come as something of a shock to me as well.”
    He resisted the urge to confess the suspicion he’d reached in the past hour that his mother’s illness was feigned and nothing more than a ploy to entice an excellent marriage prospect into his presence. Pity his mother had no idea Miss Effington had already decided she had no interest in becoming the next Viscountess Berkley and no interest in him whatsoever, although there had been a moment or two when he’d wondered if she had perhaps changed her mind.
    If she had, he’d be a fool to reveal his suspicions. He had no doubt she would not take kindly to the manipulations of his mother or anyone else. While Reggie was not especially pleased by his mother’s plot, if indeed it was a plot, Miss Effington was a most intriguing young woman. Regardless of her previous declarations that they would not suit, it might well be worth the time and trouble to become better acquainted with her. After all, she could be wrong.
    “My mother has long wished to see me happily wed.”
    “In that she is no different than most mothers,” Miss Effington said wryly.
    “She has the oddest notion that, in order to make a suitable match, I should have a suitable home.” He shook his head. “Apparently, she has abandoned the idea that I can make such a match on my own and only the lure of a house refurbished in the latest style can attract an appropriate spouse.”
    Miss Effington snorted. “That’s absurd.”
    “I thought so.”
    “Why, I’m certain you have any number of excellent qualities that would attract a suitable match.”
    “Are you?” He raised a brow. “I understood you thought I was most unsuitable.”
    “For myself you are. But I am rather,” she thought for a moment, “discriminating.”
    “You shall quite turn my head, Miss Effington,” he said wryly.
    “Come now, my lord, we have been all through this.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “It’s your past that I object to. I have no desire for a man of a certain reputation.”
    “Infamous?”
    “Yes.” She nodded. “However, there are any number of eminently eligible ladies to whom reforming you would be a challenge they would leap at.”
    “I have never thought of myself as a challenge to be leapt upon.”
    “At,” she said firmly. “Not upon.”
    “Pity.” He grinned. “Still, I do like the idea of being a challenge.”
    “I’m not surprised,” she murmured.
    “What are my excellent qualities, then?”
    “I have no doubt you are already well aware of each and every one.” Her voice rang in the prim manner of a governess.
    “Do humor me, Miss Effington. Besides,” he considered her thoughtfully, “you have not been the least bit reticent to point out my faults, stomping on my