Page 28 of A Figure of Love

So she stated the obvious. “I could not sleep.”

He took a step closer. “Perhaps I might help you with that.”

Serena could scarcely believe she had heard him correctly. But his arrogant smirk and hooded eyes told her she had.

She gave him a freezing look.

“Ah,” he said, his smile growing harder. He turned his gaze back to the window and she was glad to follow. They watched Lockheart pound the bag without ceasing.

“This is some sort of pugilistic training?” she finally asked, deciding to forget his lapse in manners.

He nodded but did not look away from the window. “It is the type of thing men of your class play at in places like Jackson’s Salon, except this is the real thing.”

The derision in his words made her bristle. “What do you know of my class, Mr. McElroy?”

This time he did turn to her, his smile as mocking as his words. “Oh come now, Mrs. Lombard, your husband was the son of a duke. You can scarcely marry much higher.”

Serena supposed it was arrogance that had led her to believe men of the merchant class would not know of her lineage.

McElroy chuckled, as if she’d spoken out loud. “Oh yes, I make it my business to know who Gareth associates with, even if he doesn’t.”

“Mr. Lockheart knows of my connections.”

“Connections like your cousins Leeland and Sandford Featherstone?”

Serena ground her teeth. “Cousins by marriage.”

“By marriage,” he agreed.

“Yes, he knows.” Serena found his smug, knowing tone annoying. “If you are so keen on keeping up with your business partner’s associates, why didn’t you warn him about the Featherstones?”

“I said I made it my business to know about his associates, not to make his decisions for him.” He shrugged. “Featherstone is a small-time operator. He was skimming from Gareth, but he was also providing a service Gareth believed necessary. I’m afraid my friend has a bee in his bonnet about the need for a genteel setting in which to wine and dine the men who make the laws the rest of us are supposed to abide by.”

“Mr. Lockheart told me it was you who put the bee in his bonnet, Mr. McElroy.”

His eyebrows arched high and the look he gave her was speculative, rather than just accusing. “Did he? It is unlike Gareth to confide such matters—or even have them in his head to discuss them. It would seem he has taken an uncommon shine to you.”

“And you believe that is unwise.”

“Tut, tut, Mrs. Lombard—or I suppose I should call you Lady Lombard—don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Trust me, Mr. McElroy, I don’t wish to go anywhere near your mouth. As to your other comment, no, you should not call me that.” She no longer bothered to keep the disdain from her tone. “Not only because it would be inaccurate—you would refer to me as Lady Robert Lombard—but also because I have stated my preferred title, and it is Mrs. Lombard”.

“Come, Mrs. Lombard, no need to come the ugly with me. I must admit I do not understand why you would feel the need to hide your light, or your rather grand connections, under a bushel—especially around Gareth.”

“I can’t tell you how much comfort it gives me to know the workings of my mind are beyond your comprehension, Mr. McElroy.”

He chuckled. “You have a remarkable facility with English to say you are a Frenchwoman.”

“My father was English, as I am sure you are well aware—being a man who does such a thorough investigation.”

“You are correct, yet again. But I will continue to be perplexed about your attitude to your august connections. I’ve not met one of your kind yet who hasn’t felt the need to rub it in my face. I’m sure you must be wondering what Gareth makes of your connections. And let us be honest with one another, isn’t that your true object in burying yourself in the country and messing with dirt? Marrying a very, very wealthy man you believe you will be able to easily manipulate?”

Serena snorted. “You sound like you speak from experience, Mr. McElroy. Do you enjoy manipulating your friend?” She did not give him any time to respond. “I refuse to dignify your aspersions by defending myself to you, Mr. McElroy. I will say, however, that I believe you might not know your friend as well as you think you do. Or perhaps your own desires color your judgement.”

His eyes lost their amused glint. “Just what the devil do you mean?”

“I mean I have not spent a lot of time around Mr. Lockheart but certainly long enough to realize he has no interest at all in those things which others might value. He appears to treat society and his own wealth with equal disdain. Perhaps it is your own social aspirations you speak of so passionately. You speak on the matter with such heat I can only assume you have some personal axe to grind on the matter.”