Dangerous in Diamonds - Madeline Hunter [7]
She had been in service to Becksbridge, and now she lived on his property for nominal rent. She was a tenant in whom he claimed a “committed interest” but whom he did not want to name in his testament or reveal to the other paragons hanging from his branch of the family tree.
She had expected to receive the property for good in the will. And, unless his eyes failed him, the color in her face now came less from anger and more from embarrassment.
Well, well. Becksbridge, you unbearable, hypocritical ass.
“If it offers any relief to your distress—”
“I am not distressed. I am only surprised, Your Grace.”
“I can perhaps alleviate this extreme surprise by explaining that the duke did indicate his wish that you remain here as in the past, as long as you choose.”
That was something, at least. Not what she had expected. Not what had been implied. And at least the new Becksbridge would not be getting this property.
Counting her blessings did not help as much as she wished. She still battled the almost uncontrollable urge to hit something. Castleford, for example. Not only was he bearing sorry news, but he also seemed to be enjoying her extreme surprise to an unseemly degree. For all of his solicitous concern, he watched her the way the eyes in a crowd watch a burning building.
She calmed enough that the precise words of his last statement sorted themselves out in her head.
“You say the duke expressed the wish for all to remain as it was. Is it your intention to honor that wish?”
Castleford ruminated on the question. “I have not decided.”
“You can have little use for a small bit of land like this, with all your other holdings.”
“One never knows.”
Was he teasing her? Goading her to more extreme surprise? “If you regret the loss of income, I could pay a higher rent. I would want a proper lease, however.”
“Mrs. Joyes, I am not looking to negotiate by delaying matters. I have not decided only because I have a way of making decisions that serves me well. I save all the boring ones for one day a week. This is not that day.”
“You intend to leave me dangling simply because it is not Tuesday?”
He strolled the few steps to the bench and sat. He made himself comfortable in the extreme. Back angled and shoulders propped as before, legs extended and arms crossed, he lounged beside her. She had to turn to see his face.
“You know about that, do you? About Tuesdays?”
“We do have those mutual friends. I have been treated to a few Castleford stories.”
“How indiscreet of them.”
“I do not think you mind. If you did, you would have long ago reformed your reputation.”
“And become as boring as our reformed mutual friends? I hope I die first.”
“From what I hear, that is likely. Which is why I would like that lease no matter what the rent. A very long one.”
“I see you are feeling better. I hope that when you are more yourself you do not have a tendency to be a scold.”
“It is not for me to scold you, sir. My interest is not with your behavior or health but with my future and with how your drinking and brawls and duels might cause trouble for that.”
“Did they tell you anything else about me? Besides the drinking, brawling, and dueling?”
They had told her plenty, and the scandal sheets had added many salacious details. “That you delight in being incorrigible.”
“Well put, and the telling of it explains me well enough. After all, have you ever heard it said that someone delights in being an epitome of virtue? There is little fun in that, and no delight at all. Just repetitive goodness.”
“Is your badness so varied that it is still delightful? I expect anything gets boring after a while.”
He looked at her with interest. “How perceptive you are. It takes a good deal of effort to keep badness from being boring. One must seek out new experiences and challenges. Our mutual friends may think I have an easy life, but being notorious is grueling work after a few years.”
She had to laugh. That seemed to please him.
“What a delightful visit this is proving to be,