A Rose At Midnight. Jacqueline Navin

of at the moment. Others, in fact most, would frighten you witless with tales of my misdeeds. It is, of course, relevant to mention the rumors of my criminal nature are greatly exaggerated.”

      Indeed, she had heard plenty about this man, including the incredible claim that he had been Queen Victoria’s first crush. Some said it was for wanting of him the young monarch went into decline just before she met and married her precious Albert, and that she had allowed the earl to affectionately call her “Drina,” a nickname from her childhood when she was the impoverished, isolated Princess Alexandrina Victoria. Caroline laid her silver spoon on the fine bone saucer. “And what of the ‘duel on the continent?”‘

      He laughed, revealing the flash of strong white teeth and eyes that crinkled merrily and.impossible! Yes, there was one dimple in his right cheek. A dimple! The summation of all those attributes left her nearly breathless. Her cup stalled on its way to her lips and her mouth stayed open as she stared.

      He really was a splendid-looking man! So, why had he found it so difficult to find a bride, even if he was dying—which was difficult to believe in and of itself, for never had she seen a man so hale and hearty. Surely a few score besotted souls would have vied for the privilege of easing his last days on earth and bringing forth his child.

      “The duel,” he said, raising one dark eyebrow in a rakish manner, “never took place. The story goes that a certain gentleman, with whom I had a. shall we say, disagreement, challenged me to a contest of pistols, and we traveled to the continent in order to do the thing legally. There, it is told, we chose our weapons, paced off the deadly field, and I killed him in cold blood. Depending on the teller, you may have heard versions where I spit on his corpse, or spent the following sennight in an orgy of carousing to celebrate the poor chap’s demise.”

      She had to give him credit. He certainly hadn’t stinted on the details. If she had been ignorant of this particular tale, which she was not, he had done a fair job of relating it.

      “None of it is true.” He was momentarily distracted by a small particle of lint on his arm. He frowned at it, pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and set it adrift on the air. “It is based on fact. A certain gentleman accused me of improper behavior with his wife. He did challenge me to a duel, and he did die on the continent while I was also there, but that is where the verity of the tale ends. In actuality, the chap went to Provence where I was supposed to have been visiting friends, for he intended to catch me there and throw down the gauntlet. I was still in Paris, however, and while searching me out, he fell in with a band of miscreants who slit his throat for the purse he held. Since attaching the murder to me was much more romantic, I am afraid the gossipmongers had their way, and it became a much more exciting story.”

      Now it was Caroline’s turn to question him. “Would you have fought him, had he caught up with you?”

      His expression was only a little surprised. He blinked, then smiled. “I do not know, Miss Wembly. I suppose so. I am only glad I did not have to find out. Contrary to my reputation, had I needed to kill him in order to protect myself, I would not have enjoyed it. After all, the man was half-mad with grief.” He paused, adding in a softer, almost penitent voice, “and he did have cause.”

      He seemed to catch himself, jerking his gaze back to her. Caroline took a long, thoughtful moment to sip her tea.

      She peered at him over the gilded rim of the cup, her lashes shielding her eyes as she studied him. “So then you do have a conscience?” she asked.

      “Now, there is no cause to be insulting,” he replied as he shifted in his seat. Giving her a sideways glance, he added, “I thought you said you had not heard tell of my vile nature.”

      Caught off guard, she had to confess. “I suppose I did hear a few things. I thought it unkind to mention it.”

      He was staring at her again over his interlaced fingers. She hated herself for fidgeting, but she couldn’t help it.

      “How wise.”

      She inclined her head in a regal fashion. She could swear it amused him, drat the man. It seemed no matter how she tried, she could not manage to get the upper hand.

      He continued, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth. “I offer this information, for it is important you have an understanding of my character as we are about to , enter into a most. intimate business arrangement, and these matters are inarguably pertinent.”

      “It is kind of you to explain,” Caroline stated. She caught the flash of pride in his eyes, could almost hear his thoughts: Magnus Eddington does not explain himself to anyone! She smiled, deceptively demure.

      She had provoked him, it seemed. His brows slanted down wickedly as he leaned forward, rubbing his thumb and forefinger along his chin. “Tell me more about yourself, Miss Wembly. I hardly feel you have disclosed the equal of what I have shared with you, and it is I who am the one to make the choice of your suitability.”

      “I have told you of myself, all there is to tell.” Setting down her cup, she was uncomfortably aware of the way his eyes could bore into her, seemingly able to plumb the depths of her thoughts and bare her secrets. She looked away.

      “Your answer as to why you wish to marry a complete stranger was incomplete. In short, you never said why it is you desire to enter into this.what did Mr. Green call it? Ah, yes. ‘Odd alliance.”‘

      She forced herself to face him calmly, but her hands grabbed fistfuls of the lovely blue silk dress as she said simply, “Money.”

      He liked her directness, she surmised, for he whooped in delight and rocked back in his chair. “And what, pray tell, do you wish with my money?”

      It was a laughing matter, was it? Her temper raced hot and dangerous. How well the wealthy were amused by the grasping need of the less fortunate. They never had to go hungry, had they? Or wear dresses that hung threadbare and short, so tight across a burgeoning breast it was almost impossible to breathe. Or bury all dignity and come to an earl’s house and offer oneself like a brood mare for a chance at life for someone they loved.

      Her bitterness almost choked her. “Why does anyone need money?” she spat. “To buy things.”

       Things like medicines. Things like life for a dying child.

      He narrowed his eyes, those seemingly omnipotent orbs that saw all. Good God, she had gone too far!

      She would be foolish to forget her precarious position. Oh, what had made her think she could do this? She was hardly the deferential type—the very kind of woman whom the earl would desire, she had no doubt. Swallowing hard, she began to stutter an apology.

      The earl cut her off. “Do not! Groveling does not become you.” Stunned, she snapped her mouth shut. “I am not displeased by your strong character. It is an asset, for my son will need a firm hand to guide him through life since I will not be able to do it. I am not looking for an agreeable partner for myself, Miss Wembly, but a surrogate for myself in my child’s life.”

      There was something chilling about his casual tone when speaking of his own death. It stopped her.

      “You are being interviewed for the position of mother for my son, nothing more, nothing less.”

      Worried at this statement, she asked, “What if the child is female?”

      “She will be likewise endowed with my fortune.”

      “What if there is no child?”

      An odd look passed over his features. Pain. “It would be regrettable, but we can hardly control all of it, can we? We must merely do our best, and leave the rest to the Almighty. Which brings me to the rather delicate matter of lovemaking.”

      The word made her start. She actually jumped and a small sound like a tiny squeak escaped her. As if to calm her, the earl held his hands up. “It must be discussed. I need to know the prospect of being intimate with me is not, how shall I put this? Distasteful?”

      Suddenly, the swell of flesh