Those Scandalous Ravenhursts Volume 3. Louise Allen

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      Her dazzling smile took him by surprise. ‘Well, then, Mr Hurst, we must buy it.’

      ‘What? The Unicorn? We must?’

      ‘Can you afford it alone?’ This was frank speaking indeed. Eden contemplated snubbing her by loftily remarking that he had no intention of discussing his financial position with her, then caught himself. He was enjoying this meeting. There was no one he could discuss business with, not on equal terms. Madame merely wanted to know if there was sufficient money to maintain her lifestyle; his banker and his solicitor expected only to take orders and to offer advice when asked.

      The small circle of men he admitted to anything approaching friendship were either too interested in his business for comfort if they were from the merchant class or completely uninterested if they were gentlemen. He had become used to taking all decisions alone, arguing problems out with himself.

      And now here was, of all things, a young lady. Bright-eyed, confident, interested and quite unabashed at being alone with a man, speaking of things ladies were simply not expected to understand. And, miracle of miracles, she did not simper, she did not wheedle and she most certainly did not try to cajole.

      Eden smiled. Lady Maude blushed, which was unexpected. Hastily he resumed a straight face. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was flirting with her. Not after last night. ‘No,’ he responded frankly. ‘I cannot afford to buy it alone just now. At least, not without committing myself more than is prudent.’

      ‘And are you always prudent, Mr Hurst?’ There was a laugh lurking in her eyes. Was she thinking about last night? He wished he was not, it was too damn uncomfortable.

      ‘With money, yes,’ he admitted and the answering smile made the corner of her eyes crinkle. Yes, she had been thinking about last night. So why had she blushed earlier?

      Eden was used, without vanity, to women reacting strongly to his looks, although he saw to it that they never got close enough to him emotionally to react to the man behind that handsome face. His appearance was nothing to be proud of, in his opinion. He owed his looks to the father who had refused to have anything to do with him. As for the rest, he took care of his body, exercised hard and spent more than he needed on his clothes.

      But Lady Maude was not flirting. She had reacted to his kiss with a mixture of innocence and appreciation that was arousing, yet her response afterwards had been that of an assured young matron and now… Now he had no idea how to read her. Which ought to be infuriating, not intriguing.

      He realised that he must have been silent, thinking, for over a minute. Unperturbed, Lady Maude had opened her portfolio and was scribbling energetically. When she saw he was back with her she smiled, the uncomplicated smile of a friend. ‘I will need to rework these figures, for I am sure my banker will tell me I should not invest so much if you do not own the Unicorn. It is very vexing—you must press for information about the owner.’

      ‘I have tried; it is not going to be forthcoming.’

      She sent him a look that said clearly that he had not exerted himself sufficiently in the matter. She was wrong. Ever since he was fourteen he had wanted his own theatre. Not a little provincial playhouse, but a significant, fashionable, demanding theatre to satisfy the longing that had entered him the first time he had set foot on a stage, the sense that he had come home. He had found the Unicorn and had known that this was love and that this was the only passion he could, or would, ever trust. But he could not speak of that to a near-stranger, or try and justify an emotion he only half-understood himself.

      ‘Lady Maude, have you considered what Lord Pangbourne is going to say when he knows what you are doing?’

      ‘Of course. He said I was old enough to make my own mistakes with my own money.’ She hesitated, her eyes sliding away from his. ‘Some time ago…he wanted me to marry someone; he had wanted it for years, in fact. Neither the gentleman nor I wished for it and things became—’ she broke off, searching for a word ‘—complicated, before Papa understood how things were. He has always been somewhat unconventional in his attitude to women’s education and freedoms. What happened has made him somewhat indulgent in many ways.’

      So, not only was she intelligent, but she was also strong enough to stand up to parental pressure over her marriage. And now, at twenty-five, the Marriage Mart would consider her on the shelf, or almost so. Or was the daughter of an earl, wealthy in her own right, ever on the shelf? Perhaps she had grounds for her confidence.

      ‘He may be indulgent about how you invest your money, but he is not going to be so if he knows you are alone with me in my office, is he?’

      That appeared to amuse her. ‘Do you imagine he will call you out, Mr Hurst?’

      ‘I imagine he will want to horsewhip me. I am not, after all, a gentleman, and therefore would not merit a challenge.’

      Maude looked at him, her eyes wide and steady. ‘Yes, you are, in every way that counts. Or I would not be here.’

      Her certainty knocked the breath out of him. He was accepted, to a point, in society as an intelligent, personable exotic. He could imagine the reaction if he so much as flirted with one of the young ladies on the Marriage Mart. And they, he was quite certain, would have had him pointed out by their mamas as completely ineligible, if not dangerous. Yet Lady Maude appeared to have no such scruples.

      ‘I will speak to my man of business tomorrow and amend my figures,’ she continued. ‘Would it be convenient to call in a few days’ time?’

      ‘I should not—’ He meant to say, I should not be doing business with you, but it came out differently. ‘I should not expect you to come here. Could I not meet you at his office? It would be safer, surely?’

      ‘For whom?’ she enquired, suddenly very much Lady Maude and not the unconventional young woman conducting her own negotiations. ‘I feel quite safe. Are you frightened of something?’

      Eden drew in a deep breath, ignored the interestingly unsafe suggestions his body was making. ‘For myself, I fear nothing and nobody, Lady Maude.’ He let a chill harden his voice. He could not act, had never wanted to, but he had grown up surrounded by good actors and learned a trick or two. When he wanted to, he could intimidate and he found that useful.

      Her lashes swept down to hide her thoughts, and he thought he had shaken her. Then she lifted her eyes and murmured, ‘Good. I will hold you to that.’ She closed her portfolio and got to her feet, smiling with ladylike composure as he rose to open the door. ‘I will send a note and come back here next week to discuss how to proceed.’

      ‘You will attend the first night of our new play?’

      ‘On Monday? I am looking forward to it. You will be putting on a ballet and a farce for the intervening nights, I assume?’

      ‘Yes. Trifling things, but I do not care to have the theatre dark.’ He looked down at her and knew he had to take control of this situation, whatever it was. ‘Lady Maude. Unless you tell Lord Pangbourne of your intentions, I must decline to discuss this matter further with you.’

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