Very well-why don't you make your case?" And perhaps if she listened and closely observed, she might get some hint of what, beneath the words, behind his so often impassive mask, was really going on inside him. "Your case beyond the obvious social imperatives, that is."
"Difficult given my case is based on the obvious social imperatives."
"Nevertheless, you might at least to find a broader foundation."
From the corner of her eye, she saw him look up as if imploring divine aid-or perhaps more prosaically asking ?-and had to hide a smile.
Eventually he lowered his head and leveled his hazel gaze at her. "All right-let's try for a broader perspective. You're a Cynster, well bred, well connected, well dowered, and more than passably attractive."
She inclined her head. "Thank you, kind sir."
"Don't thank me yet. You're also opinionated, willful to a fault, argumentative, and at times irrationally stubborn. Be that as it may, for some reason I don't comprehend, we managed to run along reasonably well through the last week or so, when we had a common goal. I take that as an indication that, were we to marry and jointly take on the common goal of managing my father's estate, the estate that will in time be ours, we would again find ourselves on common ground, enough at least to make a marriage work."
He'd surprised her.
Leaning back, she looked at him. He'd angled his shoulders into the curve of the wall, stretching one arm along the upper edge, long legs stretched out so that his boots brushed her hems. At ease, relaxed and debonair, he appeared the epitome of the sophisticated London rake, which, of course, he was.
He was also an enigma.
At some point during their hike through the mountains, she'd realized that no matter what he allowed her to see, there was something different, something even more attractive, beneath his polished veneer.
"You'd share the responsibilities of running the estate?" She hasn't expected him to speak of such matters.
"If you wished to involve yourself with it.
"Difficult given my case is based on the obvious social imperatives."
"Nevertheless, you might at least to find a broader foundation."
From the corner of her eye, she saw him look up as if imploring divine aid-or perhaps more prosaically asking ?-and had to hide a smile.
Eventually he lowered his head and leveled his hazel gaze at her. "All right-let's try for a broader perspective. You're a Cynster, well bred, well connected, well dowered, and more than passably attractive."
She inclined her head. "Thank you, kind sir."
"Don't thank me yet. You're also opinionated, willful to a fault, argumentative, and at times irrationally stubborn. Be that as it may, for some reason I don't comprehend, we managed to run along reasonably well through the last week or so, when we had a common goal. I take that as an indication that, were we to marry and jointly take on the common goal of managing my father's estate, the estate that will in time be ours, we would again find ourselves on common ground, enough at least to make a marriage work."
He'd surprised her.
Leaning back, she looked at him. He'd angled his shoulders into the curve of the wall, stretching one arm along the upper edge, long legs stretched out so that his boots brushed her hems. At ease, relaxed and debonair, he appeared the epitome of the sophisticated London rake, which, of course, he was.
He was also an enigma.
At some point during their hike through the mountains, she'd realized that no matter what he allowed her to see, there was something different, something even more attractive, beneath his polished veneer.
"You'd share the responsibilities of running the estate?" She hasn't expected him to speak of such matters.
"If you wished to involve yourself with it.
( Stephanie Laurens )
[ Viscount Breckenridge to the ]
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