Free A Man Above Reproach by Evelyn Pryce Page B

leave the stockings on, he supposed that would be fine. His thoughts were getting away from him again. He would not stand to be lumped in with the undesirables that she catered to every night. Elias composed himself and produced the signed copy of her book from his waistcoat and slid it across the table.
    “What do you mean by ‘a man above reproach’?”
    She expelled a burst of laughter. “Is that what I wrote? I was so angry at you, I did not even remember.”
    “I am to infer that it was not a compliment.”
    “It is true, either way. You are a duke, which no one hesitates to remind me at every turn, therefore whatever you do cannot be wrong in the eyes of a peasant like me.”
    Elias was having trouble reconciling the vitriol with the perfect mouth it came out of out.
    “No one, outside of the members of my own family, would ever have the gall to speak to me the way you do,” he said, hoping his voice was even enough to fool her into thinking he was calm.
    “Does your wife?”
    He had been about to take a sip of wine. Thankfully, he had not. He would have choked on it.
    “My what?”
    “Your wife. The one you brought to my store. She is well past childbearing age, are you not concerned with siring an heir?”
    “Gads, Josie, you have—”
    “Please do not explain.” She grabbed the bottle of wine from him and refilled her glass, promptly drained it, and refilled it again. Perhaps she would be more logical when she was drunk, Elias thought, because she certainly could spew nonsense when she was sober. “I have narrowed it down to two possibilities: you have gambling debts and she is wealthy or she was your governess and you never truly grew up.”
    He put his head in his hands to stifle his amusement, but his shoulders still shook.
    “Are you… laughing at me?” she demanded.
    “Josephine,” he said, muffled into his hands, unable to stop the peals from escaping, “that is my mother.”

    Well, he was not quite as depraved as she thought. That was unfortunate, as it had been easier to resist his kindness and good looks when she had the accusation of cheating husband to level. Elias took his hands away from his face, but he was still grinning. His profile, already striking when aloof, was absolutely blinding when amused.
    “I am glad I could entertain you,” she muttered. She had drunk too much wine too quickly and wanted him to go away. She never should have come in the first place. He was too complicated.
    “Come now,” he teased. “You must see how ridiculous that is.”
    “I feel very silly.”
    “Not at all. It is very interesting to watch you run out of reasons to hate me.” He gave her a smile that had to be a cultivated one, calming at the same time it was mischievous. What was wrong with this man? Why did he give her the slightest notice, much less chase her? She willed herself to concentrate his words.
    “My mother would love to take up the mantle of dowager duchess, but she has found me difficult to marry off. It is the current occupation of the patronesses of the beau monde to throw ladies in front of me. You might say that I am something of a cause for them. It is mortifying. They call me ‘the Uncatchable.’ They are determined to find a suitable wife.”
    “What is wrong with them?” Her voice came out far more quiet than she wanted. “The ladies, I mean? The ones they throw in front of you?”
    “Vapid. Vain. Incurious.” He loosened his cravat, pulling the ends until it was a scrap of crisply folded linen hanging loose from his neck. The creases were so deep, it must have taken his valet ages. He could not have managed that artistry on his own. “Stuffy. Boring. Pie-faced.”
    “Your standards are a touch high, Elias. Women of their rank are raised with these qualities as their ultimate aims.”
    She knew. They had tried to do the same to her, to turn her into a docile and obedient cow.
    “Where do they raise the women like you?”
    If he continued to be likable, she