Page 6 of To Pleasure a Prince

“You’re not busy; you’re a coward.”

He whirled to face her, his scowl raining dragonly fury down on her. “What did you call me?”

Excellent, Regina—why not just slap his face with your glove?

But drat the man, he’d really roused her temper. “A coward. You’re perfectly ready to slander my family to your sister, but heaven forbid you should state your objections to our faces.”

A laugh echoed in the library. “You think you and your brother scare me?”

Her annoyance increased. “Simon said you refused to speak with him.”

“He knows perfectly well why I prefer to communicate through the Iversleys. And if he insists on continuing to corrupt my sister—”

“Corrupt!” she protested. “My brother would never corrupt anyone!”

“—I’ll be happy to meet with him in person.” Lord Draker fixed her with his hard gaze. “So tell Foxmoor that sending his sister here won’t soften me one whit.”

“He doesn’t even know I’ve come. I’m not here on his behalf. I’m here to argue for your sister.”

She didn’t miss the subtle gentling in his features. “Louisa sent you?”

“She said you would never listen to her, since she’s so inexperienced in society. But she hoped you might listen to someone who knows it well enough to point out the advantages of an alliance between her and my brother.” Especially since the Iversleys upheld Lord Draker’s refusal to let Simon near the poor girl.

His face closed up. “Louisa was wrong. My mind is set.”

“What possible objection could you have to Simon? He’s one of the most eligible gentlemen in London.”

“I’m sure he is,” he said, with an impatient wave of his hand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Regina wasnotused to being dismissed or ignored. And to have this…this beastly devil do so was beyond the pale. “I’m not leaving until I hear some reason for your objection. Because I certainly can’t see a good one.”

“You wouldn’t.” He swept his gaze from the tip of her lilac hat to the points of her expensive kid shoes, and she would have sworn she saw admiration flicker in his gaze. Until he added with a sneer, “Your sort never does.”

She bristled. Tired of craning her neck up at this obnoxious creature, she approached the stair that led up to the gallery. “And what sort is that?”

“A wealthy lady of rank moving in the highest circles of society.”

She began to mount the little stairs. If he wouldn’t listen, she’d trap him on the gallery andmakehim listen. “Your sister is a wealthy lady of rank moving in the highest circles of society.”

He scowled at her. “She’s only there until she finds a decent husband. I want a better life for her than that of a society chit.” He swept her with a contemptuous gaze. “The sort who spends her days dithering over what color ball gown to wear.”

His blatant assumption stoked Regina’s temper even higher. She stepped onto the gallery and walked toward him. “I suppose you’d rather she marry a bushy-faced hermit like you. Then she can spend her days listening to him rebuff all her visitors.”

His lordship shot her a scalding look. Sweet heaven, he had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen—a rich brandy brown, with long dusky lashes a shade darker than his hair.

A pity those eyes presently burned a hole through her skull. “Better that than spend it catering to Prinny and his ilk,” he said.

The light dawned. “Oh, I see. You object to Simon because of his friendship with His Highness. You don’t like your sister being around your father after you went to such great pains to throw the man out of here all those years ago.”

“You’re damned right I don’t. And what’s more—” He broke off suddenly. His frown disappeared, only to be replaced by a suspicious crinkling at the corners of his gorgeous eyes. “You do realize you just called me a bastard.”

“I did not!”

“In the eyes of the law, my father was the fifth Viscount Draker. And since you were clearly not referring tohim…”

He had her there, drat him. Clever gentlemen were such a bother.

He went on smugly, “One would think a duke’s daughter would know better than to throw salacious rumors about a man’s parentage right in his face.” He settled his hand on the gallery rail. “But then, we both know how thin is the facade of manners that your sort put so much stock in.”