Page 13 of The Moonstone Hero
“Why must I forget it? Does love not grow stronger over time? And what makes you the expert? You don’t like anyone.”
He laughed. “I assure you, I do like some people. But you are right that I find most exceedingly tiresome and unworthy of my esteem or trust. However, I know what I want in a woman.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “And have you met this paragon of perfection yet?”
Yes. You.
He shrugged. “It does not matter if I have or not. I am in no position to do anything about it right now, am I? I cannot even use a bedpan without someone holding me up so I do not fall flat on my face.”
She set her hand ever so lightly on his forearm, careful not to put any weight on it. “We will get you better here. I am certain of it, Caden.”
He sighed. “Read on, my ministering angel. Let’s get to the scandals. I need to be amused.”
She read him an item about Lord P and Lady G caught in a hayloft. “Who do you think they are?”
“That would be Sir John Peveril and Lady Sarah Graystone. A sad affair, that. Her father is a viscount and did not consider Peveril, a mere knight, worthy of his daughter. He refused Peveril’s offer of marriage and had her betrothed to the Earl of Graystone. A mismatch if ever there was one. It is a dangerous triangle, and one of them is going to get shot someday, because Graystone is not one to share his wife with others.”
“Oh, that is terrible for all of them. How unhappy they must all be.”
“You are being too soft-hearted again, Ella. Graystone knew of her affections for Peveril but went ahead and offered for her anyway. What did he think was going to happen?”
“He might have hoped she would fall in love with him instead, given the chance.”
Caden snorted. “Perhaps, but that was a foolish notion on his part. Lady Graystone has never had a sensible thought in her entire life. She responds to everything with theatrical affect, as though she is the tragic heroine and everyone ought to feel sorry for her.”
“But we should not?” Ella asked, caught up in the gossip.
“No, we should not. The lady is tiresome, and one can never do enough for her. She needs to be constantly worshiped. That is not in Graystone’s nature. However, Peveril is also prone to the dramatic. He and Lady Graystone view themselves as tragic lovers, like Romeo and Juliet.”
Ella edged closer to his bedside. “Hence your theatrical reference.”
He nodded. “I am fairly confident their grandamourwould quickly die out if they actually had to live together. The lady is a peahen, and Peveril would soon tire of her constant demands and insecurities.”
“Why should she take all the blame? Perhaps she would tire of him, since he sounds like a bit of a numbskull to me.”
“He is,” Caden said with a light nod. “And to take Lady Graystone to a hayloft? Gad, that must have been uncomfortable for them. Those bits of straw and rough-hewn wood poking into their backsides as they rolled around. Hard to rouse passion under those conditions. She must have complained all the while.”
“And then to get caught on top of it all.” Ella shook her head as she studied him. “You sound as though you’ve tried it.”
He cast her an appealingly wicked grin that she should not have found appealing at all, but there was something irresistibly attractive about Caden that could not be denied. “Only once, and not with her, that’s for certain,” he said. “I was very young and stupid at the time. Let’s move on to the next scandal. Doing the naughty deed in a hayloft is not an appropriate conversation to be having with anyone as innocent as you.”
“All right.” She studied the gossip sheet and found the next item. “Lord M and Lady F have run off to Italy together, abandoning their spouses. However, it is also reported that neither abandoned spouse is bereft over this turn of events. It appears Lady M and Lord F have retired to Lord F’s country estate and are enjoying the rustic life together.”
“Switching spouses? Well, I suppose it is an agreeable outcome for them. Their children will be confused as all hell.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“Yes, Lady M is Lady Markwood and Lord F is Lord Farraday.”
“For a man who disdains all manner of social games, you certainly know who all the players are.”
He shrugged. “Some of these men turn to me for advice, and the—”
Ella laughed. “Surely you jest. Why would they trust you on matters of love? Your answers would only be cynical and probably wrong.”
He leaned back against his pillows and regarded her with amusement glittering in his eyes. “You have such a low opinion of me. Do you think I give no thought to life or love, or what I would hope for in my future? Even cold-hearted clots like me think of these things. Let’s move on. What else has happened in London in our absence?”
Ella read him an item about the elopement of a young couple. “They dashed off to Gretna Green, with her father close on their heels.”
