The Rake's Defiant Mistress. Mary Brendan
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I’d need to be a cynic to think that perhaps you’re glad of that. As we both know, I’m a cynic.’
Gavin grimaced bemusement. ‘I’m not good with riddles. What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Did you know that Mrs Hayden would be here when you asked me to come home with you?’
‘Of course I did,’ Gavin said and lounged contentedly back in to his chair. ‘Sarah was keen to see her best friend straight away. I still don’t see…’ A look of amused enlightenment crossed his rugged features. ‘Ah, you think Sarah has some maggot in her head about matchmaking the two of you.’
‘It wouldn’t be the first, or the hundredth, time a lady had arranged a dinner party for just that purpose. So, am I correct?’
‘No,’ Gavin said bluntly and sipped at his port. ‘You might have designs on Ruth, but, not to put too fine a point on it, my friend, I doubt she has any interest in you.’ Gavin gave Clayton a cautionary look. ‘She’s no man’s mistress…not even yours, no matter how generous you’re feeling. Take my word on it.’
Clayton sat back in his chair and fondled the stem of his glass with long fingers. His slate-grey eyes watched the crystal as it performed a balletic twirl. ‘Is she spoken for?’
‘Sarah told me earlier this evening that Ruth’s recently received a proposal of marriage.’ Gavin refilled his glass and pushed the decanter towards Clayton. ‘Her suitor is by all accounts a pillar of society here in Willowdene. Don’t ask more,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’ve been indiscreet as it is. Sarah adores Ruth, and with good reason. Ruth was a loyal friend and a support when Sarah was very much alone and in need of help,’ he explained gruffly. ‘I’d hate Ruth to think I’d spoken out of turn.’
Clayton nodded acceptance of that. ‘He’s a lucky chap, whoever he is.’
‘Indeed,’ Gavin murmured. He sent a subtle look at his brooding friend and amusement tipped his lips upwards.
He knew, of course, that Clayton was a hardened cynic where women were concerned. Clayton’s wife had made a complete fool of him by acting like a seasoned trollop throughout their short marriage. Since his divorce ambitious women had constantly thrown themselves at him, hoping to take her place. He was mercilessly hounded by every mama with aspirations of marrying her débutante daughter to a man of great wealth and lineage—when Clayton’s octogenarian grandfather died he would take a clutch of titles to add to the baronetcy he already had.
It seemed the longer Sir Clayton Powell remained stubbornly single, the more of a challenge the hostesses seemed to find him. Gavin knew that wagers had been laid amongst the ton’s grandes dames as to which of them might finally snare him for a favoured niece or goddaughter.
Clayton knew of their scheming too, and their ulterior motives. He knew he was wanted at their balls for what he had rather than himself. The more desperate they became to have him attend their functions, the more reluctant he became to turn up. The fact that his friend would choose to spend his evenings at the theatre with a demi-rep, or gambling with male friends, rather than socialise with women of his own class, spoke volumes about his friend’s attitude to courtship and marriage. In fact, Gavin mused, he would not be at all surprised to learn that Clayton had badly misjudged the situation tonight and treated Ruth as though she were some mercenary temptress with an eye on his wallet. It would certainly explain the frost he’d sensed in the atmosphere when he and Sarah had joined them in the library.
A soundless laugh tickled Gavin’s throat. He imagined from Clayton’s rather mystified expression that he was still wondering why Mrs Hayden had refused to flutter her eyelashes and gaze adoringly at him, as did every other single woman of his acquaintance. He could have told his friend that, in fact, Mrs Hayden had turned down the doctor’s proposal, but for some reason he had not. And it was not just because in another respect he’d told Clayton the truth.
Ruth would undoubtedly be better off financially as a rich man’s paramour, but in Gavin’s opinion she would hold out for a man to love, and to love her, before she slept with him.
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