Free The Bachelor List by Jane Feather Page A

piece in
The Mayfair Lady.
You found it complimentary?”
    Max looked at the overstuffed sandwich in his hand and regretted his choice. Cucumber was a much tidier filling than mashed egg and strands of cress. “I barely glanced at it, Miss Duncan.”
    “Really? But of course you would have little interest in a women's newspaper. Women are rightly concerned only with trivialities. That is your view, Mr. Ensor, as I recall.” The smile didn't falter; the dark green eyes never left his face.
    He became aware that her sisters had rejoined their other guests on the far side of the drawing room and he was at an acute disadvantage facing this woman who was all armor while he stood there holding two soggy pieces of white bread from which white and yellow interspersed with green strands threatened to tumble to the carpet. He looked for somewhere to put it since he couldn't eat it and conduct any reasonable conversation—or rather, respond credibly and confidently to what was undeniably an attack. He had come prepared to play his own little game but now he realized Miss Duncan had her own basket of tricks. He must have touched a nerve the other evening.
    “Ah, I see you need a plate, Mr. Ensor.” Constance moved to the sideboard and took a bread and butter plate from the stack. “How remiss of me.”
    He suspected it had been an intentional lapse but accepted the plate with relief. “I know nothing of the newspaper, Miss Duncan. You gave Lady Armitage a copy the other week. As you say, it seemed mere uninformed babble to me. The kind of flippant insubstantial discourse that women like.” He watched her face and noted the clear flash of chagrin that crossed her eyes. His point, he decided. That made them even.
    “There was an article in there about the new licensing laws,” Constance said with a casual smile. “You consider that to be the subject of insubstantial discourse, Mr. Ensor? I would have thought a Member of Parliament would have an opinion of his own and be interested in the opinions of others.”
    “Informed opinions, Miss Duncan, yes.” He was enjoying himself now and sensed that Constance was too. Her eyes were flashing and dancing like fireflies.
    “And women's opinions are not informed?”
    “I didn't say that, Miss Duncan. There are many areas where women's opinions are both informed and vitally important.”
    “Those involved with hearth and home, kitchen and nursery. Yes, you made that clear the other evening.”
    “And it offended you?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Indeed, it was never my intention. I have only respect and admiration for your sex.”
    “And my sex is suitably complimented, Mr. Ensor. Allow me to introduce you to Lady Bainbridge and her daughters, Lady Martha and Lady Mary.” She turned and the battle was over, for the moment. He was not entirely sure which of them had won that round.
    Jenkins announced a trio of guests and the buzz of conversation filled the drawing room. Constance and her sisters were kept too busy taking care of their visitors to linger in any particular conversation, but Constance was aware of Max Ensor's hooded gaze following her as she moved around the room. He looked bored, she thought. He was standing behind his sister's chair, having abandoned both teacup and sandwich, taking no notice of the conversation around him. In fact he seemed oblivious of everyone but Constance.
    Constance cut a slice of Victoria sponge and carried it over to him. “Mr. Ensor, our cook is renowned for the lightness of her sponge cakes.” She handed him the plate before he could refuse. “Is there anyone I can introduce you to?”
    “No, thank you,” he said. “I came here to talk to you, Miss Duncan. No one else interests me.”
    The sheer effrontery of this took her breath away. “You're saying you find no one in this room worthy of your attention?”
    “That was not what I said, Miss Duncan.” He looked at her, both challenge and question in his steady gaze.