Page 89 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

“The Roman emperor Augustus loved asparagus,” said his uncle, holding up half a spear on his fork. “He had a phrase for decisive action—velocius quam asparagi coquantur, quicker than cooking asparagus.” He popped the vegetable into his mouth and chewed.

“How in the world do you know that?” asked Mrs. Thorpe. “Have you made a study of culinary history?”

The earl shook his head. “I know a good deal about Augustus. I developed an interest in him when I was in school. All that Latin, you know.”

“Why?” asked Jean. “I mean, what interested you particularly?” Benjamin admired the intelligence in her expression as much as the lovely line of her figure. She glanced his way, and a shiver of desire ran through him. From the way her eyes darkened, he was sure she felt it, too, and he reveled in the knowledge.

“He was a rather benevolent autocrat,” replied his uncle. “I say ‘rather,’ because of course he had lapses. Absolute power, et cetera. But he led the Roman Empire into a long era of peace. Who among us, given such scope, would have the ability and use it in that way?”

“Wouldn’t most people want to bring peace?” Jean asked.

“A great many would be too busy getting revenge on their enemies and enriching their family and friends,” said Mrs. Thorpe.

“And Augustus did those things,” said the earl. “But notonlythose.”

The table fell into a game of what would you decree if you were emperor, which grew sillier as dinner progressed. It continued into the drawing room afterward, but Benjamin was beginning to have hopes of getting Jean away from the others when, to his vast frustration, he heard a carriage pulling up outside.

They all paused to listen. “Who could be arriving at this hour?” Mrs. Thorpe asked.

“The days are getting longer,” said Lord Macklin. “Some people drive out in the evening to look at the moon.”

They might, Benjamin thought. But they didn’t pay calls during such expeditions. No, something was up. He frowned when Mrs. Wandrell and her two offspring entered, trailed by an anxious servant.

“We are such good neighbors,” said Mrs. Wandrell. “I told your maid there was no need to stand on ceremony and announce us.” Her smile was steely.

Tomorrow, he would begin a search for a fearsome butler who could repel unwanted guests, Benjamin thought.

“We were passing by after a small party at the Hendricks’ and thought we simply must stop in,” added Mrs. Wandrell. She made an imperious gesture.

As if launched, Anna Wandrell made a beeline for Benjamin. She smiled and took his arm and more or less forced him to sit down beside her. Her evening dress was cut daringly low in front, and from the way she leaned forward to speak to him, Benjamin was certain she had instructions to make him notice this fact. She was practically offering herself on a platter. Yet the effort was curiously cool. Benjamin couldn’t tell how she felt about this assignment. Although she smiled and laughed, she showed as little real feeling as Teddy, who was carefully ignoring everyone.

Jean, watching from across the room, wasn’t jealous. Anyone could see that Benjamin had no romantic interest in Anna. She’d been thrust upon him, just as Jean had been pulled as far from them as the chamber allowed by Mrs. Wandrell. Still, it was hard to look away from such a blatant flirtation.

“I’ve been hearing such mysterious things about you,” said Mrs. Wandrell to Mrs. Thorpe, who sat on her other side.

“You surprise me,” Jean’s chaperone replied in a tone that implied just the opposite.

“I won’t rest until I knowabsolutely everything.” Their visitor’s voice had an edge, even as she pretended to tease.

“Then I fear you will grow very tired,” said Mrs. Thorpe. Her expression was serene, but her eyes were acute.

“Oh, I spare no effort when it is a question of my daughter’s happiness.”

This might have caught Jean’s full attention, but just then Benjamin looked at her. And then she could think of nothing but being alone with him again. If only all these people would go away.

“We were talking about the Emperor Augustus earlier,” said Mrs. Thorpe.

Their visitor blinked at her, confused.

“The Roman emperor,” Mrs. Thorpe went on. “And the uses of power. Or misuses. Far more common, sadly.”

“Do you imagine you’re being witty?” asked Mrs. Wandrell. “Because you’re quite mistaken if you do. And pathetic. Wordplay won’t stop me.”

“Some clouds blowing up,” said Teddy Wandrell. Stationed by a window, he’d pulled the drapery back to look out.

“No they aren’t,” replied his mother without turning her head.

Lord Macklin went to stand beside Teddy, pulling back the other curtain. “Clouds,” he agreed, with a calm authority that couldn’t be ignored. “Not long before they cut off the moonlight.”

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