Page 3 of How to Enchant a Viscount (Lady Be Seductive #2)

Two

B rooks rolled out of bed with a groan. He had decided to stay at Thornridge’s estate a bit longer than he had originally planned, and it had everything to do with a certain lady. She had never given him her name, but that had not been necessary. He knew exactly who she was and intended to use the knowledge he had of her to become more acquainted with her. Lady Maeve Thompson was a beautiful and intriguing woman. She had seemed almost morose at her sister’s wedding. Oh, it had not been evident to all around her, but he was far more discerning than most. She had done an admiral job of hiding it with her false smiles, but he saw through her facade.

He did not doubt she was happy for her twin sister, but she was also not completely joyful at her sister’s new status. Was it because they were twins? Did she not want to be separated from her sister or was it deeper than that? He could not say just with a glance. Hence, why he had decided to remain at the ducal estate. That had surprised Thornridge, but he had not told Brooks he had to leave. There was no reason why one of his oldest friends would ever have done that. They were too close and knew each other too well to deny each other anything.

So it did not matter that it was out of character for Brooks to want to remain in the country or that he often preferred the excitement that the ton offered. Thornridge would not pry. At least not initially. If he started to act even more strangely, then he might ask a few pointed questions. Which meant that Brooks would have to proceed carefully. He did not want an inquiry because he found a young miss interesting.

He sighed and walked over to the large window and drew open the heavy drapes. Sunlight streamed into the room and bathed him in warmth. He frowned as he stared outside. If he wanted to learn more about Lady Maeve Thompson he would have to leave the room, and venture outdoors. The problem was he had no idea how to accidentally intercept the woman. If he paid a call on her it would be too obvious. How had Kendal courted his wife? Surely he had not started by using regular visits. Not that Kendal wasn’t at all proper, but he knew that their courtship had been far from the norm.

Brooks moved away from the window and prepared for the day. He pondered his dilemma as he dressed and then pulled on his Hessians. He supposed he could always go for a ride. That would help clear away his musings and help him to form a plan. Thornridge had a fine estate and some wonderful horses he could choose from.

Once he was dressed, Brooks strode down to the stables, greeting the grooms with an easy nod. He selected a fine chestnut gelding, a strong and swift animal that would serve him well for a morning ride. As he swung into the saddle, he had no real destination in mind—only the vague hope that he might happen upon Lady Maeve somewhere along the way.

He had observed her enough to know she enjoyed solitude, often slipping away from the crowd whenever she could manage it. She was not like the usual young ladies of the ton, who preened and fluttered about in search of admiration. No, Lady Maeve had an air of quiet contemplation about her, a mind that seemed always occupied with something deeper than idle gossip. That, more than her beauty, had captured his attention.

He guided his horse along one of the paths that led toward the wilder edges of the estate. It was a glorious morning, the sky a brilliant blue with only a few wisps of clouds stretching lazily across the horizon. The scent of fresh grass and wildflowers filled the air, and the rhythmic sound of his horse’s hooves against the damp earth was almost meditative.

Then, in the distance, he spotted her.

Lady Maeve stood atop a small rise near a grove of trees, her back to him as she gazed toward the horizon. A wooden easel was propped in front of her, and even from where he sat, he could see the broad strokes of her brush against the canvas.

Brooks halted his horse, considering his approach. If he startled her, she might disappear before he had a chance to speak with her. And while he had no qualms about pursuing a woman, he preferred the chase to be a fair one—not one in which the lady bolted before the game had even begun. Slowly, he dismounted, tying his horse to a nearby tree before making his way toward her. He did not bother to soften his steps; he wanted her to hear him coming, to give her the opportunity to decide if she would tolerate his presence or not.

As he neared, Maeve turned her head slightly, though she did not look directly at him. "I assume you are here for a reason, Lord Pemberton," she said, her tone laced with wry amusement.

Brooks grinned. "You wound me, my lady. Can I not simply be enjoying a morning ride and stumble upon a delightful bit of scenery?"

She turned then, arching a single, skeptical brow. "Is that so?"

He spread his hands in a show of innocence. "Truly. And yet, I must say, this view has become infinitely more interesting since I arrived."

Maeve rolled her eyes but did not seem truly displeased. She lifted her brush once more, her gaze shifting back to her work. "I should think you have seen far grander sights in London," she mused. "Surely, I do not compare to the glittering jewels of the ton."

His lips twitched as he studied her. He liked her. Far too much, but he would not think about that now. He had found her and it had taken little effort on his part. Perhaps fate had wanted them to cross paths. Brooks was grateful, whatever the reason was, that he had been able to stumble upon her.

"Ah, but you see, Lady Maeve, I find glittering jewels terribly dull," he countered, stepping closer. "They are lovely, yes, but they all catch the light in the same way. You, on the other hand, have an air of mystery about you. And I do enjoy a mystery."

She stilled for the briefest moment before continuing her brushstrokes. "And here I thought you preferred frivolity," she said lightly. He studied her painting and found she had some talent. He wished he could see more of her renderings. Especially if they were as excellent as her current work.

Brooks chuckled. "A man can have many layers, my lady."

"Indeed?" She finally looked at him fully, her gaze assessing. "And what, pray tell, are your layers, Lord Pemberton?"

He grinned. "If I revealed all my secrets at once, where would be the fun in that?"

She shook her head, returning her focus to the canvas. "I suspect you are a terrible rogue."

Of course, he was and it was prudent of her to take notice. He was not against using his skills to gain her attention. "Only when the situation calls for it."

A hint of a smile touched her lips, though she did not look at him again. "Well, my lord, unless you have any pressing matters to discuss, I fear you are interrupting my work."

"Ah, but what if I wish to commission a painting?" he asked smoothly. "A piece to remember this very moment." It was nonsense of course. He had not even know she painted when he had decided to find her. This was just a serendipitous opportunity and he was not above seizing it for his personal gain.

She gave him a sidelong glance, amusement flickering in her eyes. "You flatter yourself if you believe this moment worthy of immortalization."

Brooks placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "You wound me again, Lady Maeve."

She sighed, setting down her brush. "If I agree to paint something for you, will you let me work in peace?" Should he volunteer to pose nude for her? How would she react to that? He wanted to suggest it but held back. He would probably still offer himself for artistic study, but he would wait until a more opportune time.

"Only if you promise to consider my request with sincerity," he said, studying her intently. "I would like something personal. Something that comes from you—not just any commissioned piece."

For the first time, she looked uncertain. "And why, my lord, do you believe I would paint something personal for you?" Because she was tempted by him. In much the same way he was tempted by her. There was something between them he could not identify. At least not yet…

He smiled, slow and confident. "Because I think you are as intrigued by me as I am by you."

Maeve opened her mouth, likely to deny it, but then she hesitated. She narrowed her eyes slightly, as if assessing whether he was toying with her or if he was sincere. Finally, she picked up her brush again. "I shall think about it."

Brooks grinned. "That is all I ask, my lady."

And as he watched her turn back to her painting, he knew he had won the first battle in a game that had only just begun. She was not going to allow him to interrupt her further. He would pay a call on her later. Now that he had a reason other than courtship to do so he had no issue with visiting her home. He could not wait to spend more time with her. “Until later, my lady,” he said, but she did not respond. He had not expected her to.

With a smirk, Brooks turned and strode back toward his horse, feeling quite pleased with himself. Lady Maeve might pretend indifference, but she had not outright dismissed him. That, in his experience, was as good as an invitation to pursue further acquaintance.

He mounted his horse with practiced ease and cast one last glance at her before riding off. She had already returned to her painting, though he did not miss the way her shoulders tensed ever so slightly. Whether it was due to his presence or something else entirely, he could not say. But he would find out.

As he guided his horse back toward the estate, he considered his next move. He would, of course, call on her at a reasonable hour, under the pretense of discussing his so-called commission. Whether she would take him seriously or merely view him as an amusing diversion remained to be seen.

And yet, Brooks had the distinct feeling that Lady Maeve Thompson was not like the other women he had pursued in the past. She would not be easily charmed, nor would she fall prey to the flirtations that usually served him well. No, this would require patience, strategy, and—dare he admit it—perhaps even sincerity.

The thought was both thrilling and unsettling.

When he arrived back at Thornridge’s estate, he found the duke awaiting him on the front steps, arms crossed over his broad chest. The expression on his face was one Brooks recognized all too well—one of suspicion and amusement in equal measure.

“You were gone a rather long time for a simple morning ride,” Thornridge remarked.

Brooks swung down from his horse and handed the reins to a waiting groom. “I enjoyed the scenery. You do have a lovely estate.”

The duke’s lips twitched. “Is that so? And there was no other reason for your long ride?”

Brooks grinned. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” Thornridge said dryly, falling into step beside him as they made their way inside. “Word has already reached me that you were seen conversing with Lady Maeve in the meadow.”

Brooks sighed dramatically. “Gossip travels faster than the wind in the country.”

“It does,” the duke agreed, then arched a brow. “Should I be concerned?”

Brooks feigned offense. “Concerned? About what?”

“About whatever mischief you are plotting,” Thornridge said. “Lady Maeve is not—.” He frowned as if he remembered something, but then shook those thoughts away. “Kendal will not be pleased if you ruin his new sister by marriage.”

Brooks stopped short, his expression sobering. “I would never toy with her.”

Thornridge studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Good.” He resumed walking. “Then I trust your intentions are… honorable.”

Brooks let out a short laugh. “Have my intentions ever been honorable?”

The duke shot him a warning look. “See that they are now.” Thornridge closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “That family is not one you should ever trifle with. Even if Kendal’s ire was not something you should be concerned with.”

Brooks sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He had not come to Thornridge’s estate looking for entanglements, but it seemed he had stumbled into one nonetheless. And much to his surprise, he did not mind. Thornridge had his own reasons for wanting to avoid his closest neighbors and it had nothing to do with Lady Maeve and Brooks’ intentions. He could not be concerned with Thornridge and the regrets that the duke carried in his heart.

As to his own desires…. He found himself looking forward to his next encounter with Lady Maeve. And if she thought she could keep him at arm’s length, she would soon learn just how persistent he could be.