Free Elizabeth Powell by The Reluctant Rogue Page A

consideration thrown her way. Pay her attention and she’ll take to following you around like a faithful spaniel.”
    “Gammon,” Sebastian said with a scowl. “She is no more spaniel-like than you are.”
    “You do feel pity for her, don’t you?” Nigel prodded.
    “That is not the point.”
    “Then I sincerely hope you can tolerate that drab little creature. She possesses little refinement, no distinction of character, and absolutely nothing of beauty to recommend her.”
    Jace regarded him with disgust. “Is beauty all you care about?”
    With a laugh, Nigel leaned back in his chair and propped one foot atop the nearby table. “What else is there?”
    “Not all ladies have the good fortune to be beautiful,” Havelock riposted, “but they have other admirable qualities. Had you deigned to talk with Miss Jane, you would have found her very amiable, as I did.”
    “Then perhaps you should take up with her and spare Sebastian the trouble,” Nigel sneered.
    Jace levered himself from the sofa and stalked to thesideboard. “One of these days, Nigel, you will discover that women have a very long memory for the casual slights you seem to think amusing and dispense with impunity.”
    “As if I give a fig for the opinion of such a plainfaced nobody. She is nothing but a little country mouse! Most likely she will end up a spinster or a companion to a nip-cheese dowager who keeps a houseful of incontinent pugs.”
    Jace glared at him. “Nigel, you’re as high on the instep as that brother of yours.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I did not mean that as a compliment.”
    Weary of his friends’ bickering, Sebastian set aside his empty glass. “Well, gentlemen, I must be off,” he announced.
    “So soon? It’s barely past midnight,” Nigel complained.
    “I have an appointment early tomorrow morning,” the viscount replied, “one I cannot afford to miss, so I must bid you good evening.” Despite their objections, Sebastian sketched a bow and took his leave.
    As his carriage rumbled through the darkened streets of Mayfair, Sebastian settled back against the leather squabs, Nigel’s warning still ringing through his mind. Did his strategy run the risk of capturing the affections of the wrong woman?
    No … the imp had her own admirers, he was sure of that now. After he had danced with her, a few other gentlemen followed suit, and she did not lack for partners. Why else would both sisters be in London, if not to find husbands? Then there was her journal. When he mentioned it during their dance, she had lost all color, and though she had feigned nonchalance, only a fool wouldfail to recognize how important it was to her—and he was no fool. She wanted it back, and quickly. He understood her sense of urgency; if anyone else were to find out, it would embarrass her at best and ruin her reputation at worst.
    One other question nagged him. Why did the imp seek only titled beaux? Had no one else struck her fancy enough to merit an entry in the journal? Had their overbearing mother declared that each of her daughters must marry a peer of the realm? That was a possibility, but Jane had no fortune that he was aware of, nor did Lady Portia display the same indulgent regard for her younger daughter as she did for her elder. He had a theory but could not yet determine if it was correct.
    He sighed and settled himself more comfortably into one corner of the carriage. In a few hours, if all went well, he would know enough about the Rutledge sisters to make sense of this puzzle.

Chapter Four
    Jane touched her heel to her horse’s flank and urged him to a canter. Tamerlane responded with a rush of energy that she barely managed to restrain; he wanted to gallop, but proper young ladies did not gallop in Hyde Park, so Jane held him in. The dapple gray tossed his head and tried to take the bit in his teeth, but she remained firm. At last he capitulated with what sounded suspiciously like a snort of equine disgust.
    “I quite agree,”