"Not well at all," she admitted in a low voice, her composure seeming fractured. As soon as the spectacles were safely on her nose, she backed away from Andrew and sought to collect herself. "Now I suppose you are going to make some jest at my expense."
"Not at all. I like your spectacles."
"You do?" she asked with clear disbelief. "Why?"
"They make you look like a wise little owl."
Clearly she did not consider that a compliment, although Andrew meant it as one. He couldn't help imagining what she would look like wearing nothing but the spectacles, so prim and modest until he coaxed her into passionate abandonment, her small body writhing uncontrollably against his-
Abruptly aware that his erection was swelling again, Andrew shoved the images out of his mind. Damn, but he had never expected to be so fascinated by Hargreaves's spinster sister! He would have to make certain that she never realized it, or she would have even more contempt for him. The only way to keep her from guessing at his attraction to her was to keep her thoroughly annoyed and hostile. No problem there, he thought sardonically.
"You may leave now," Caroline said sharply. "I assume our business is concluded for the time being."
"It is," he agreed. "However, there is one last thing. Could you manage to dress with a bit more style during the weekend party? The guests-not to mention my father-would find it easier to accept my interest in you if you didn't wear something quite so…"
Now even the lobes of her ears were purple. "Quite so what?" she said in a hiss.
"Matronly."
Caroline was silent for a moment, obviously suppressing an urge to commit murder. "I will try," she finally said in a strangled voice. "And you, perhaps, might engage the services of a decent valet. Or if you already have one, replace him with someone else."
Now it was Andrew's turn to be offended. He felt a scowl twitching at the muscles of his face. "Why is that?"
"Because your hair is too long, and your boots need polish, and the way you dress reminds me of an unmade bed!"
"Does that mean you'd like to lie on top of me?" he asked.
He slipped around the door of the parlor and closed it just before she threw a vase.
The sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the house.
"Drake!" Cade strode toward him from the entrance hall, looking at him expectantly. "How did it go? Did you get her to agree?"
"She agreed," Andrew said.
The words caused a flashing grin to cross Cade's boyishly handsome face. "Well done! Now you'll get back in your father's good graces, and everything will go swimmingly for us, eh, old fellow? Gaming, drinking, carousing… oh, the times we're going to have!"
"Hargreaves, I have something to tell you," Andrew said carefully. "I don't think you're going to like it."
Chapter Two
Caroline sat alone for a long time after Lord Drake left. She wondered uneasily what would become of her. Gossip would certainly abound once the news got out that she and Drake were courting. The unlikeliness of such a match would cause no end of jokes and snickers. Especially in light of the fact that she was notoriously particular in her choice of companionship.
Caroline had never been able to explain even to herself why she had never fallen in love. Certainly she was not a cold person-she had always had warm relationships with friends and relatives, and she knew herself to be a woman of very deep feeling. And she enjoyed dancing and talking and even flirting on occasion. But when she had tried to make herself feel something beyond casual liking for any one gentleman, her heart had remained stubbornly uninvolved.
"For heaven's sake, love is not a prerequisite for marriage," her mother had often exclaimed in exasperation.
"You cannot afford to wait for love, Caro. You have neither the fortune nor the social position to be so fastidious!"
True, her father had been a viscount, but like the majority of viscounts, he did not possess a significant amount of land. A title and a small London estate were all the Hargreaves could boast of. It would have benefitted the family tremendously if Caroline, the only daughter, could have married an earl or perhaps even a marquess. Unfortunately most of the available peers were either decrepit old men, or spoiled, selfish rakes such as Andrew, Lord Drake. Given such a choice, it was no wonder that Caroline had chosen to remain unwed.
Dwelling on the subject of Andrew, Caroline frowned pensively. Her reaction to him was troubling. Not only did he seem to have a remarkable ability to provoke her, but he seemed to do it intentionally, as if he delighted in stoking her temper. But somewhere in the midst of her annoyance, she had felt a strange sort of fascination for him.
It couldn't possibly be his looks. After all, she was not so shallow as to be undone by mere handsomeness. But she had found herself staring compulsively at the dark, ruined beauty of his face… the deep blue eyes shadowed from too little sleep, the cynical mouth… the slightly bloated look of a heavy drinker. Andrew possessed the face of a man who was determined to destroy himself. Oh, what terrible company he was for her brother Cade! Not to mention herself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her mother, Fanny, who had returned from a pleasant afternoon of visiting with friends. Strangers were often surprised to learn that the two were mother and daughter, for they did not resemble each other in any way except for their brown eyes. Caroline and Cade had inherited their late father's looks and temperament. Fanny, by contrast, was blond and plump, with the mercurial disposition of a child. It was always disconcerting to try to converse with Fanny, for she disliked serious subjects and did not choose to face unpleasant realities.
"Caro," Fanny exclaimed, coming into the parlor after giving her frilly plumed hat and light summer wrap to the housekeeper. "You look rather displeased, dear. What has caused such a sour expression? Has our darling Cade been up to his usual pranks?"
"Our darling Cade is doing his best to ensure that you will spend your final years in a workhouse," Caroline replied dryly.
Her mother's face wrinkled in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't understand, dear. What do you mean?"
"Cade has been gambling," Caroline said. "He is going through all our money. Soon there will be nothing left. If he doesn't stop soon, we'll have to sell everything we own… and even that won't fully satisfy his debts."
"Oh, but you're teasing!" Fanny said with an anxious laugh. "Cade promised me that he would try to restrain himself at the hazard tables."
"Well, he hasn't," Caroline replied flatly. "And now we're all going to suffer for it."
Reading the truth in her daughter's eyes, Fanny sat down heavily on the pink brocade settee. In the grim silence that followed, she folded her hands in her lap like a punished child, her rosebud mouth forming an O of dismay. "It's all your fault!" she burst out suddenly.
"My fault?" Caroline gave her an incredulous stare. "Why on earth would you say that, Mother?"
"We wouldn't be in this predicament if you had married! A rich husband would have provided enough funds for Cade to indulge his little habits with his friends, and taken care of us as well. Now you've waited too long… your bloom has faded, and you're almost twenty-seven…" Pausing, Fanny became a bit tearful at the thought of having an unmarried daughter of such an advanced age. Pulling a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, she dabbed delicately at her eyes. "Yes, your best years are behind you, and now the family will come to ruin. All because you refused to set your cap for a wealthy man."
Caroline opened her mouth to argue, then closed it with an exasperated sound. It was impossible to debate with someone so inured to the concept of logic. She had tried to argue with Fanny in the past, but it had served only to frustrate them both. "Mother," she said deliberately. "Mother, stop crying. I have some news that might cheer you. This afternoon I received a visit from one of Cade's friends- Lord Drake… do you remember him?"