Apparently, his mirth was enough to convince Eleanor because she sat back and looked at him with the kind of expression he’d learn to respect. It was a female look and indicated a devious mind at work.
“Eleanor?”
“So you haven’t found a wife?”
“Absolutely not. In fact, if you could help me find Mellie a husband, I would be beyond grateful.”
She grinned. “How grateful? Just how much money has your grandfather promised when you become engaged? And how much will he pay afterward to make you become un-engaged?”
He cocked his head, startled to realize that she was haggling. There was a decidedly mercenary gleam in her eye. “I believe the new duke and duchess have had an effect on you.”
She sniffed and drew back. “No need to be insulting.”
“It’s not an insult. My recent experience with poverty has shown me just how important it is to mind one’s coins. I cannot see that it is any different for a woman.”
“It’s more important for a woman. Especially one who isn’t as yet wed and who is sick of hiding in her rooms whenever Radley comes home.” She leaned forward. “Do you know they are most disgustingly in love? Constantly kissing in dark corners throughout the house.” She shuddered. “My mother is likely rolling over in her grave.”
“Surely it isn’t as bad as—”
“It’s worse. And I would desperately love to be established in a house of my own.”
He waited, his brows lowered as he watched the wistful expression cross her face. Dreams chased one after the other in her eyes, but he hadn’t a clue what she wanted. Eleanor was likely as open with him as she was with anyone, and yet he still had no clue as to her true thoughts. What did this woman dream of? He didn’t know, and he found that sad. After all, they’d been friends from the cradle, and yet she was always the Elegant Lady Eleanor. What did a woman who defined the best of his class think of in her private moments?
He touched her hand. “What do you want, Eleanor?”
“Money,” she said bluntly. “Lots and lots of money.”
Well, that was clear enough. So with a grin, he set about the negotiation.
* * *
Mellie watched Trevor disappear with the extraordinarily beautiful Lady Eleanor and tried not to groan. They were two peas in a pod, those two: beautiful, titled, and of longstanding acquaintance. She had no way to compete with that, and so she simply had to accept it, though fear churned in her stomach. They were deciding her fate, after all. And clearly, she had no part in the discussion.
“It’s nearly dinnertime,” the duchess said into the silence. “Do say you’ll stay to dine. I should very much love to hear the tale of how you trapped the Unassailable Duke.”
“The what?”
The duchess laughed. “Mr. Anaedsley. That’s what they call him. It’s a play on the word ‘unavailable’ because he is always available. Enjoys going to parties and the like, especially during the Season. So he is available, but no woman has been able to catch him. So he’s ‘unassailable.’”
Her husband frowned. “I don’t believe unassailable is quite the right word.”
His wife laughed. “Probably not. No one said that society girls were smart. Only that they’re marriage-minded.”
The duke gave a mock shudder. “Don’t remind me.”
The two shared an intimate chuckle. It was then that Melinda noticed they were touching. Though the duke stood and his wife sat, he was near enough to stroke the back of her hand, which she stretched out for him. As Melinda sat, their fingers entwined, folding and caressing each other in such a way as to make her blush. It was ridiculous. They were just interlocking their fingers, and yet it had her thinking the most carnal things.
Meanwhile, the duchess had turned her attention back to Melinda, though her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright. “So how did it happen?”
“What?”
“You and Mr. Anaedsley. You must know that everyone will want the tale.”
“Oh. Well, my cousin challenged him to a duel.”
“What!” cried the duchess.
“That explains the jaw,” said the duke.