pursuing those damned Frenchies in the Peninsula for the past few years.’
‘Go on,’ William said, lifting his arrogant brows and waiting, his look both suspicious and intrigued. His curiosity was piqued, but he’d be damned if he let Charles see it. Well acquainted with Charles Grisham, who in spite of his affectations was one of the most intelligent and erudite of the Corinthians, William knew perfectly well that the man was one of the most influential members of the ton. At twenty-eight, fair haired, of a slender athletic build and fastidiously tailored, he was much envied for his ability to tie a neckcloth into perfect folds. He had an acid wit that accepted no boundaries and was able to shred a reputation in minutes, when he chose a human target. William deduced from his remarks about Miss Greenwood that he had made her just that.
After helping himself to a pinch of snuff, Charles went on to regale William with Miss Greenwood’s attributes and shortcomings, much to William’s irritation. If Charles were to be believed, the lady was as cold as an iceberg and set with wilful thorns—one of nature’s disagreeable blunders, in fact.
‘As a result she has been dubbed the Ice Maiden. And the unkind—though appropriate, some would say—sobriquet has stuck. It’s unfortunate since the filly has spirit. She should prove highly entertaining in a chase. Miss Greenwood is one of those rare eccentrics who attend society events and rarely dances except to please herself—which makes her something of a challenge to the likes of me. In fact, she doesn’t go out in society at all unless it’s to tout for funds for that wretched institute of hers—you know about that?’
William nodded, languidly listening, turning his sardonic gaze back to Miss Greenwood at the same moment as she bestowed a melting smile on a smitten elderly gentleman who was handing her a glass of champagne.
‘Lady Monkton—her aunt—takes an understanding view on the matter. Some might think it admirable—personally, I consider it a damn waste of both time and a beautiful woman. Her mama and Lady Monkton let her do exactly as she likes with relative impunity, the result being she has become an object of ridicule.’
William’s brows lifted imperturbably. ‘Which in your opinion she rightly deserves.’
‘Exactly.’
William looked at Miss Greenwood with renewed interest. ‘She is Lady Monkton’s niece, you say?’
‘Not quite. Her mother and Lady Monkton are cousins, but she has taken on the role of aunt to the two Misses Greenwood. The grand lady took both Cassandra and her sister under her wing when their father died. Intending to give both girls a Season, she was disappointed when the older girl declined—being of the unconventional type, if you see what I mean. It’s hard to believe that any man’s hands have ever touched that delectably soft skin of hers—and I doubt she knows what it feels like to be kissed.’
Though he would dearly like to silence Charles, from William’s own dealings with Miss Greenwood it was obvious that what he was saying was mostly true.
‘Any unattached bachelor who is foolish enough to show an interest in her, she sends packing.’
‘Including you, Charles, which is why you are so ready to point out her faults to me.’
Sir Charles Grisham lifted his arrogant brows, drawling, ‘Including me.’ He admitted, chuckling softly, ‘Indeed, I confess to having been afflicted with a touch of frostbite. Being a notorious rake, I naturally assumed I could seduce her—to initiate her into the art of love. It did nothing for my self-esteem when she added me to her string of rejections. Now you are back in town I can see that I and every other male smitten with the charming Miss Cassandra Greenwood will have to look to our laurels. With your breeding and looks—not to mention your wealth—your potent attraction to women has always been a topic of much scintillating feminine gossip. You do seem to have an extraordinary effect on them, William, but I very much doubt even you will melt that particular iceberg.’
Mild cynicism marred the lean handsomeness of William’s features as he refused to be drawn on what his thoughts might be concerning the young woman who had in all probability saved his life.
‘By the by,’ Grisham went on. ‘I saw Mark in town recently—upholding the family name while you’ve been chasing the Frenchies. I have to say he doesn’t improve with age—still the same old bore he was at Cambridge. With so much starch in his veins, it’s a miracle the man can sit down. It’s difficult to believe he’s your cousin. Is it true that he jumps to the tune of his wife?’
William smiled mildly, knowing of Grisham’s intense dislike of Mark—in fact, Mark’s austere, intolerant attitude did seem to put most people’s backs up. There were certain things about Mark that irritated even him—and the same could be said of his acerbic wife, Lydia. But being possessed of a fierceness to protect any member of his family, which had sadly dwindled to just Mark and Edward during the past five years, with the demise of both his parents and older brother in a riding accident, William would not therefore, speak against his cousin.
‘If he does, then it is entirely their own affair. I couldn’t have left my affairs in better hands, Charles. My cousin is a man of steadfast character and unimpeachable honour, and I would be grateful if you did not cast aspersions.’
‘I applaud your loyalty—though in my opinion he doesn’t deserve it. Loyalty is a rare virtue in either sex these days.’
‘Besides, Mark is next in line to the title and the estate—unless I marry and produce an heir.’
‘And is there a possibility of that on the horizon?’ Charles enquired, his eyes lighting with obvious interest, for with this devilishly handsome lord off the social scene, the likes of himself and his associates would stand in better favour with the ladies.
William’s eyes suddenly glinted with amusement. ‘Marriage is not high on my list of things to do just now. When I feel inclined to pledge my hand in order to produce an heir,’ he replied with grim humour, ‘I’m sure you will be one of the first to know.’
‘I shall be journeying to Hertfordshire tomorrow—I’m to stay with my aunt for a few days. I’ve neglected her disgracefully of late,’ Charles confessed. ‘I’m quite fond of the old dear.’
‘And her money,’ William uttered pointedly.
‘I admit it does hold some attraction,’ he said without shame. ‘I shall be close to Carlow Park and I’ve arranged to ride over to see Mark—though I intend the visit to be of short duration.’
‘Then, feeling as you do, why do you visit him at all?’
‘Two rather splendid horses you have in the stables—saw them on the hunting field in January and I was impressed. A chestnut full of quality took my fancy, although the grey was damned fine, too. I heard Mark’s selling them, so I approached him with an interest to buying one. He invited me to Carlow Park to look them over.’
William’s expression was bland when he turned and fixed him with a quizzical stare. ‘And these are Mark’s horses to sell?’
‘Damned if I know—although I don’t suppose they are, seeing as they’re stabled at Carlow Park.’
‘Their names?’
‘Monarch and Franciscan.’
William’s expression hardened. On learning of his brother’s death, from Spain he had asked Mark to keep an eye on the estate until his return. He hadn’t given him
