added that to the other attempts. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” he called.
His valet entered. “News about Miss Foster, sir.”
“Well done. I could use some good news on that front.”
“My ally referred me to someone who worked in the household many years ago. A cook named Ruth. She was very close to Miss Juliet when she was a child. It appears her eccentricity started then.”
“Have a seat.”
He pointed toward a chair across the desk, and James sat. “The problem started at the death of her mother when she was four years old. Her father ignored the children except to give them some slight or cutting remark.”
“He had a reputation for a nasty temperament. I never imagined it extended to his offspring.”
“Word has it the only person he could tolerate was his wife,” James said. “He only got worse after her death.”
So, no mother and a cold, insulting father at such a tender age. Might that explain her insistence that she wasn’t desirable?
“The other children were older and better able to withstand his barbs. Little Juliet had no protection. As much as Ruth tried to reassure her, Juliet suffered from the lack of love,” James said.
“Disgraceful,” Derrington said. “No child should be treated like that.”
“She was a courageous child, strong-willed and with a quick tongue of her own, not unlike her father in some ways,” James said. “She became rebellious, running free and doing exactly what she wanted. No one could control her.”
Derrington couldn’t help but smile. That described Juliet Foster perfectly. He’d tried controlling her and had gotten nothing for his efforts. That made her even more intriguing. A challenge. A delightful challenge at that—with such a prize, if he won—that lush mouth clinging to his as his body claimed hers.
“A hellion, eh?” he said.
“I thought that might get your interest,” James said. “They sent her away to school in hopes she’d learn manners there. Instead, she seemed to have learned which boundaries she could cross and which she couldn’t.”
Clever thing. If his feelings toward her could ever have been called “tender,” they were fast changing into something else. Desire, of course, but admiration for her as an equal as well. Perhaps a bit more than an equal, as she’d bested him at every turn so far. He’d have to change that, and the contest would provide no end of fun.
“Now that she’s wealthy beyond belief, those boundaries have disappeared,” he said. “Fascinating.”
“I’ve seldom seen you so enthralled with a woman, sir,” James said.
“Ah, but Miss Foster is more than a bit of skirt. She’s a worthy opponent in a battle of wits and affairs of the heart. Just what my grandmother ordered.”
James looked at him quizzically. “Your heart, my lord?”
“I do have one.”
“I don’t doubt that. I hope I haven’t offended.”
“Not at all. It must seem odd to hear me speak of it.” It felt even odder for him to be thinking in that direction. Had the witch cast a spell on him? Of course, it would prove handy if he came to love his wife the same way his grandfather had loved Harry—much more than handy, actually. “Well, I wonder what I have to do to find my way into her heart.”
“I’m afraid that’s going to be a bit difficult.” James reddened visibly. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention.”
“Speak up.”
“My contact had mentioned a while back that Miss Foster was planning a trip. I don’t know how it slipped my mind.”
“That shouldn’t present a problem,” Derrington said. “Find out where, and I’ll get there before her.”
“Well, you see, sir…” The color of James’s face deepened. “She’s already gone. By steamship. Most likely to England.”
“When?”
“Two days ago. I only just found out she’d gone.”
“All right,” he said. “England isn’t the other side of the moon. We’re more familiar
A knock came at the door.
“Come in,” he called.
His valet entered. “News about Miss Foster, sir.”
“Well done. I could use some good news on that front.”
“My ally referred me to someone who worked in the household many years ago. A cook named Ruth. She was very close to Miss Juliet when she was a child. It appears her eccentricity started then.”
“Have a seat.”
He pointed toward a chair across the desk, and James sat. “The problem started at the death of her mother when she was four years old. Her father ignored the children except to give them some slight or cutting remark.”
“He had a reputation for a nasty temperament. I never imagined it extended to his offspring.”
“Word has it the only person he could tolerate was his wife,” James said. “He only got worse after her death.”
So, no mother and a cold, insulting father at such a tender age. Might that explain her insistence that she wasn’t desirable?
“The other children were older and better able to withstand his barbs. Little Juliet had no protection. As much as Ruth tried to reassure her, Juliet suffered from the lack of love,” James said.
“Disgraceful,” Derrington said. “No child should be treated like that.”
“She was a courageous child, strong-willed and with a quick tongue of her own, not unlike her father in some ways,” James said. “She became rebellious, running free and doing exactly what she wanted. No one could control her.”
Derrington couldn’t help but smile. That described Juliet Foster perfectly. He’d tried controlling her and had gotten nothing for his efforts. That made her even more intriguing. A challenge. A delightful challenge at that—with such a prize, if he won—that lush mouth clinging to his as his body claimed hers.
“A hellion, eh?” he said.
“I thought that might get your interest,” James said. “They sent her away to school in hopes she’d learn manners there. Instead, she seemed to have learned which boundaries she could cross and which she couldn’t.”
Clever thing. If his feelings toward her could ever have been called “tender,” they were fast changing into something else. Desire, of course, but admiration for her as an equal as well. Perhaps a bit more than an equal, as she’d bested him at every turn so far. He’d have to change that, and the contest would provide no end of fun.
“Now that she’s wealthy beyond belief, those boundaries have disappeared,” he said. “Fascinating.”
“I’ve seldom seen you so enthralled with a woman, sir,” James said.
“Ah, but Miss Foster is more than a bit of skirt. She’s a worthy opponent in a battle of wits and affairs of the heart. Just what my grandmother ordered.”
James looked at him quizzically. “Your heart, my lord?”
“I do have one.”
“I don’t doubt that. I hope I haven’t offended.”
“Not at all. It must seem odd to hear me speak of it.” It felt even odder for him to be thinking in that direction. Had the witch cast a spell on him? Of course, it would prove handy if he came to love his wife the same way his grandfather had loved Harry—much more than handy, actually. “Well, I wonder what I have to do to find my way into her heart.”
“I’m afraid that’s going to be a bit difficult.” James reddened visibly. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention.”
“Speak up.”
“My contact had mentioned a while back that Miss Foster was planning a trip. I don’t know how it slipped my mind.”
“That shouldn’t present a problem,” Derrington said. “Find out where, and I’ll get there before her.”
“Well, you see, sir…” The color of James’s face deepened. “She’s already gone. By steamship. Most likely to England.”
“When?”
“Two days ago. I only just found out she’d gone.”
“All right,” he said. “England isn’t the other side of the moon. We’re more familiar
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