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“YOU CAN’T MEAN TO SPEND an evening behind this wall,” Jasper said.
Hugh glowered. “Keep your voice down.”
“Oh, very well,” Jasper huffed, but his voice was thankfully at a softer tone. “But that dinner is delicious.”
“Please tell me you haven’t been spending all your time in the kitchen,” Hugh moaned.
“And why not? You told me to stay hidden.”
“I meant in your room.”
“Well, the kitchen provides more opportunities for people to talk. My room is dreadfully dull.”
“You need a better book,” Hugh said.
“That’s what you always say.” Jasper scowled. “Most people would say my instinct toward talking is welcome.”
“Hmph. I suppose you don’t suffer from shyness.”
“Of course not.” Jasper shivered in mock revulsion.
“I suggest you visit your room now,” Hugh said. “You can stop at the library on the way.”
“I’d rather be here,” Jasper said. “I want to see the chits.”
“I’ll introduce you to them tomorrow.”
Jasper settled on the bench beside Hugh. “I want to see them in their natural habitat.”
For the first time Hugh wondered if perhaps he was not acting with utter ethical fortitude. Still, the main thing was to find a wife, and then all of this blasted process could be forgotten.
Voices sounded, and he peered through the tiny hole. The women entered the room. He’d arranged for his mother to entertain the other mothers in the reception room, so that the women could become comfortable with one another.
“My, oh my,” Jasper said.
Hugh grinned. “You like them?”
“They’re magnificent.”
“And they’re all suitable prospects,” Hugh said, aware the note of pride in his voice might be excessive, but not caring to dispel it. After all, he’d selected them.
“You’re a clever man,” Jasper admitted. He turned to him. “Just think how much you might win if you put that toward gambling at Hades’ Lair.”
“I don’t want to hear about Hades’ Lair,” Hugh said.
“Well, it has gone downhill after Vernon and McIntyre became reformed men,” Jasper admitted.
“They married,” Hugh said. “And they seem happy.”
“Deluded,” Jasper countered.
Hugh was silent.
Jasper and he had always had so much in common, but now Jasper didn’t seem to understand that Hugh desired to move his life forward.
Hugh leaned forward on his seat and focused on the guests.
Jasper was correct. They were beautiful.
Well. They were in possession of various degrees of beauty. His eyes were drawn to the woman he’d seen in his dressing room.
For someone so determined to learn more about him that she’d broken into his room to search for clues with a determination not often found even in magistrates, she seemed to have taken the importance of this event lightly.
Her hair was tied in a simple bun, and her dress was devoid of flounces and ribbons. Somehow, the dress’s unstylish nature still seemed lovely, even though he would have been certain he’d seen sufficient women in those gowns in prior seasons.
Green, at least this shade of green, was an unusual choice for an evening gown. Though some women favored the color during winter, as if they desired to match more with the garlands and greenery servants hung from every low beam and far too many of the higher beams, this green lacked the rich splendor of a spruce tree. Similarly, it did not possess the crisp green of grass and the stems of flowers in springtime.
This green was dull.
Decidedly dull.
It also seemed to have an unusual amount of yellow in it, as if the person who’d created the pigment had possessed an instinct to replicate the color of something dying.
The color didn’t suit her and seemed out of place amongst the cheerful pastel and ivory gowns of the other women.
Her face appeared rather paler than before, and her harshly pulled back hair could not be described as flattering.
No, there was absolutely no reason he should be looking at her.
She held herself elegantly, but most of the women did. The possible exception was the chit beside her, who seemed rather fearful, and darted her eyes in all directions, as if she could not decide which one was more unpleasant.
The ladies sat down around the table, but his eyes remained drawn to Miss Braunschweig, even though there were seven other women, women who’d showed a far greater intelligence and sense of propriety that had kept them from breaking into his chamber.
One of those women would be his wife.
Not her.
Naturally not.
Hugh removed paper and a quill from his bag. He then withdrew a pot of ink and lifted off the lid.
“Already bored?” Jasper asked. “Planning on catching up with your correspondence?”
“Nonsense,” Hugh said. “I’m going to score them.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious.”
Jasper frowned and he craned his neck to get a better glance at the scoring sheets.
“You don’t need to do that,” Hugh said. “I brought one for you too.”
“Me?”
“I anticipated your curiosity.”
“I rather left score sheets behind at Cambridge,” Jasper said.
“But you see, now you’re the person scoring them.”
Jasper’s lips spread into a wide smile. “I’m the tutor.”
“Precisely.”
“I always thought I would be good at that,” Jasper said.
Hugh smiled. Jasper wasn’t inclined toward academia, and his interest in knowledge was assuredly finite, but he never seemed to take corrections well.
“This is going to be amusing.”
Hugh frowned. “It’s serious work. There’s no task of more consequence than finding a wife. Getting it wrong will lead to a lifetime of regret. A lifetime of dissatisfaction.”
Jasper raised his hand dismissively. “You’re being far too pessimistic. I know how to have a good time, and trust me, this is a good time.”
He rifled through a bag and removed a bottle of brandy.
“Is that mine?” Hugh asked heatedly.
“You recognize it?” Jasper gave a bland smile. “It will be a quality you approve of.”
“Of course, it will be a quality that I approve of,” Hugh snapped. “That’s my brandy.”
Jasper pulled out two glasses from his coat pocket.
“Do you always carry alcohol and glasses with you?” Hugh asked.
“I have quite an undeserved reputation as being thoughtless.” He shrugged. “Normally though, I carry these for sudden romantic purposes.”
“Sudden romantic purposes?” Hugh widened his eyes.
Jasper nodded. “You never know where you might find a pretty girl standing alone on a balcony or wandering in a garden. Lost in a maze, poor sweetheart.” Jasper’s gaze took on an odd calf-like quality, as if he were recollecting memories.
Hugh shifted his legs.
He’d never been one for romance. He’d never wanted to entwine himself with someone whom he’d had no desire to marry. It didn’t seem reasonable. He wasn’t inexperienced. There were widows, of course. After the Napoleonic Wars ended, the city seemed full of women eager to practice the art of lovemaking that their husbands had neglected to finish teaching them before they’d succumbed to some foreign pistol or sword on a faraway battlefield. Hugh had been happy to entertain them.
But those dalliances had been short, before true emotions might develop on either side.
The last thing he wanted was to become besotted by some inappropriate woman and install her in some apartment as his mistress, so that once he was married every time he left his townhouse in London, his wife would worry he wasn’t truly visiting his club or going to Parliament or doing all the important things he would have to do.
Starting a marriage with no hope of trust seemed a dreadful prospect.
No.
He was going to marry one of these eight women and he was going to be a damned good husband. Perhaps spying was generally held in ill regard, and perhaps he shouldn’t have implied to Miss Braunschweig that he was a valet, but they were small indiscretions that would ensure he found true happiness.
When the next season started and he attended Parliament, he wouldn’t be searching for a wife, roaming ballrooms and making conversations with elderly chaperones late into the night: he would be studying laws and creating improved ones.
He just needed to decide on a bride.
Jasper poured the brandy into the crystal tumblers. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Hugh said reluctantly, tapping his glass with his friend’s.
“So, we’re scoring them on beauty, wit, intelligence?”
“Er–yes. I might as well show you all the scoresheets,” Hugh said, taking them all out.
“You have many events listed.”
“Yes.” Hugh gave a pleased smile. “I’ll know them better than I could ever have accomplished through normal courtship during the season.”
“Personally, I would have thought you would have wanted to begin with actually meeting them.”
“Their behavior may be different when they don’t know I’m present.”
He grinned. He’d almost regretted planning it this way.
It would be entertaining when he saw Miss Braunschweig’s face when she realized who he was. It wasn’t as if she could complain to anyone that he’d led her to believe he was a valet. If she had any intelligence, and from what he saw, she did, despite her inappropriate curiosity and trespassing abilities, she would be silent.
He was going to adhere to his plan. He’d created it after diligent thought, and he wasn’t going to give up on it now. It was only a wonder more men did not decide on this type of house party.
But then, most men lacked his intelligence. It had been clear at Rugby, clear at Cambridge, and certainly clear now. It wasn’t their fault, of course. They simply lacked his natural abilities, and they certainly lacked his capacity for study.
“You’re going to score them on riding?” Jasper sifted through the papers.
“Naturally,” Hugh said.
“But why is it important she needs to know how to ride?”
“We’re talking about a union that will last decades,” Hugh said. “I adore riding. If so, how convenient, how utterly proper if she already shares it.”
“And that’s why you also have scores for water coloring, piano and–er–crocheting?”
“Naturally not,” Hugh puffed.
“It’s fine if you do desire to crotchet,” Jasper said.
“Those are traditional female pastimes,” Hugh said. “If she can’t do that, after years of practice, how will she ever be able to run a household?”
Jasper gave him a quizzical stare, and Hugh shivered. He wasn’t accustomed to Jasper being judgmental. It wasn’t the proper order of things.
The footmen had finished serving the women, and Hugh threw his attention back to the dinner party going on in the other side of the wall.