He chuckled. "Have you been spying on me?"
"Of course not!" He was infuriating, and she wanted to scream at him, but she needed to remember where she was. Spinster or not, she couldn't afford to compromise her reputation by behaving the shrew in public. She took a cleansing breath.
It would seem that after all these years of her humiliation stewing, she had unresolved anger toward Lord Davenport. Suddenly, he had an unusual ability of getting under her skin, irritating her and making her say whatever came to mind rather than carefully weighing her words. She never spoke without first considering someone else's feelings. Except right now.
"Anyone who can read," she continued, "can see that you're purchasing unnecessary properties at an alarming rate. Including the Garners' a few doors down from my family's townhome."
He shrugged. "They needed the funds, I required their townhome. I don't recall asking you if you thought my purchases were necessary or not. I believe I make those decisions."
Thank the heavens he had refused to marry her six years ago. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like to be saddled in a relationship with him. He should be pleased she didn't have any would-be weapons within reach, or she'd likely run him through.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked.
"Thinking about all the trouble you're going to have trying to find a bride." She couldn't very well tell him she'd been imagining doing him bodily harm. "If you are serious about finding a wife, you might want to heed my advice."
"I shall keep that in mind. Good evening, Lady Harriet." He bowed, then walked away from her.
He might be ridiculously handsome, but he was also a ridiculous fool believing such nonsense.
…
Damnation if she wasn't still distractingly pretty. Her pale green dress fell seductively off her shoulders, revealing a creamy expanse of her lovely skin and enhancing her abundant cleavage.
Pretty or not, she obviously misunderstood the way union s in this town worked. Perhaps that was why she was still unmarried herself. Women married men all the time for nothing more than a fat purse. He shouldn't have any problem at all finding a willing bride.
His mother had suggested he go tonight to catch a glimpse at the current Season's debutantes and other misses who were on the market. But he'd noticed Harriet as soon as he'd entered the ballroom, and everyone else had fallen away. He'd immediately approached her. Now he was ready to retreat home, or even lose himself in a hand or two of cards at Benedict's.
He wasn't so daft he didn't realize that there was much about him that women wouldn't find desirable. His limp and subsequent cane being the primary reasons. But he also knew the wealth would more than make up for it. He knew of men twice his age with a third fewer teeth and less hair who had married debutantes. Granted, he did seem to evoke a certain amount of discomfort around younger women. Perhaps he should set his sights on an attractive widow. Damned if he didn't want to do this. He should have made his mother arrange something and be done with it.
She had tried, once upon a time. He could have already been married, a voice reminded him. To Harriet. He allowed himself to consider that thought for a while. What would it have been like to marry her nearly six years ago when he'd been penniless and she'd been doe-eyed and eager?
Would her agreeable nature have made her pliant in his bed? Likely. Blood shifted, making his pants tighter than was comfortable. She was different now. Tonight, he'd seen something more in Lady Harriet, something he hadn't those years before. A feistiness that he seemed to bring out in her. He was certain that would translate to pure unadulterated passion. His cock twitched at the thought.
Harriet had a sassy mouth, one he could easily imagine kissing. And a body made for fantasies, ones he knew he'd indulge in later tonight.
But that didn't mean he should trust her advice.
Chapter Two
It had been more than a week since her encounter with Lord Davenport, and Harriet was annoyed with how much her thoughts had been consumed with him. Thankfully, though, today was her meeting with the Ladies of Virtue. She had been a member of the secret organization for a little over four years. Outwardly, everyone believed them to be a group of do-gooders, raising funds and tending to the needs of the less fortunate. And they certainly did their fair share of that. In truth, though, they were a group of specially trained women who could move seamlessly through the streets of London and discreetly tend to crimes such as pickpocketing.
She loved being a member of the Ladies of Virtue above all things and lived for their weekly meetings. But even that hadn't rid her thoughts of the infuriating marquess. The truth was, she had thought of little else, and she'd concluded it wasn't merely him she found so bothersome, but everything he represented. His flagrant spending was disgraceful, especially in a world where there was so much need.
She'd come up with a plan to tackle that problem, but she needed the help of her fellow Ladies. If she presented it the right way, no one need know she'd devised this with Lord Davenport in mind.
Today's meeting had ended nearly an hour earlier, and she and Agnes and their friend Iris had stayed behind, as they were wont to do, to play a few hands of cards. They often had additional items they wanted to discuss with one another, and Ladies of Virtue business was always safe in Lady Somersby's parlor.
Harriet took a sip of her tea and eyed her opponents. After her annoying confrontation with Lord Davenport, an idea had germinated in her mind.
"I've been thinking about what we discussed at last week's meeting," Harriet said. She glanced down at the cards in her hand, but the numbers seemed to blur. "About how we work so hard to rid the streets of violence and sin and yet it seems to be festering among the very elite of Society. It seems to me we are in a unique position to do something about that."
Iris's brow furrowed, then she dropped a card on the table. "What did you have in mind?"
Harriet kept her gaze on her cards. "There are how many deadly sins?"
"Seven. Pride, greed, sloth, gluttony, envy, lust, and wrath." She ticked off each one on a finger.
"Yes, that's right, seven. Now then, there are more than seven of us in the Ladies of Virtue," Harriet said quietly. "We could each pick a sin, select a gentleman who clearly personifies such behavior, and assist him into a better way."
Agnes choked on a sip of tea.
Was this a legitimate way for her to chastise Lord Davenport for his greedy lifestyle? Perhaps, but the truth remained that the way he flagrantly spent his money was wrong.
Iris rolled her eyes heavenward. "Are you suggesting we confront the cads and rakes in London to show them the error of their ways in hopes of converting them?"
Agnes coughed again.
"Consider how it is not much different than what you did last week with Mr. Miller," Harriet said. "You discovered he had been stealing from his employer, and you showed him how what he was doing was wrong."
Iris nodded. "Yes, and I reminded him that it would be easy enough to turn him in to the magistrate. But we certainly can't do that to a gentleman simply because he cheats at cards or imbibes too much liquor."
Agnes held up her hand. "You both make excellent points. And I do think Harriet might be onto something. We, of course, would need to run this by the others, but we could potentially do some good. Often people don't realize how damaging their behavior is. Once we shine the light upon it, we might clean up some of the debauchery."
Harriet had to admit she hadn't expected Agnes to support her idea. Normally her friend was quite hesitant to go along with any of Harriet's plans. Iris seemed as surprised by Agnes as she was.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Iris asked, looking at Agnes as if she'd suddenly grown a second head. "When have you ever thought Harriet had a good idea?" She turned and smiled at Harriet. "No offense, dear."
"None taken," Harriet said.
"As I said, I believe her idea has merit," Agnes said, "not that we can all succeed, but it is worth a conversation. Worth an attempt to bring about some good. That is what we are about, is it not?"
"Well, yes, of course, but-"
"It is settled," Harriet said, interrupting Iris. "I shall bring it up to Lady Somersby and see what she thinks."
"I can't imagine this is what she had in mind when she created the Ladies of Virtue," Iris said.
"Perhaps not, but it is accomplishing similar goals," Agnes said.
She instantly knew what she needed to suggest to bring Iris around to the idea. The poor girl had been worried sick about her younger brother and his obsession with a certain string of articles that were sending him down a path Iris was certain led to destruction.