shook her head and cupped her temples. “Why in the world would I want to marry Cousin Gerald?”
“Why would anyone want to marry him?” he countered.
“Good point,” she replied. “That boor!” She sighed, then shook her head again with a chuckle, holding his gaze. “Remember the battles you boys used to have?”
“Do I ever. Hurling everything from rocks to mud pies at each other.” He grinned. “Good fun.”
Propping her hand on her hip, Felicity looked him up and down. “Well, you might have got rid of him for me, Duke, but don’t think this changes anything. I am still cross at you. And rather shocked you actually showed up.”
“Eh, don’t get too excited.” He gave her a sardonic look. “I’m only here to see the papers.” He brushed past her, folio in hand. “Arrived not a moment too soon, though, by the look of it. Oh, what fun you have in store, Miss Carvel. If you think your cousin is obnoxious, wait till word of your inheritance really gets out. Trust me, you’ve entered a whole new realm of false friends and toadies. Welcome to my life,” he added under his breath. “I need more light. This writing’s tiny.”
He stalked through Aunt Kirby’s pretty stone house—or rather, her house now—as if he owned it, breezing out through the back door onto the shady terrace, where he headed for the wrought iron table and chairs.
Felicity followed. “I noticed that about the print on all those documents. Why do they make it so small?”
“Because they’re hoping you will never actually read it.” He pulled out one of the cushioned chairs for her and waited for her to sit.
Felicity fought not to get drawn in by his charm or the wonderful air of command that he was capable of when he chose to use it. “Is this really necessary?” she asked.
“You might show some gratitude,” he said crisply, though his eyes still danced like the stars at night. “Do you think I would subject myself to the torture of reading legal jargon for just anybody?”
She tried not to smile at that.
“Chop, chop, girl, before I change my mind and leave you to the parasites and sharks.”
“Humph.” She plopped down into the chair while Jason sat down beside her in the shade.
He opened the leather binder and began turning the pages, assessing what was there.
“Why did Her Ladyship leave everything to you, anyway?” he asked as he skimmed another page, only glancing briefly at her. “It does seem slightly surprising.”
Felicity smiled and propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand. “Aunt Kirby had rather particular ideas about the role of a woman in the world. That’s why people called her eccentric. She loved being a wealthy widow because she didn’t have to abide by anyone’s rules.”
“She didn’t like her husband?”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. She adored him for the decade she had him, but he died so young. After that, all she had was his money. She told me once that she wouldn’t have remarried for the world.”
He eyed her curiously. “What if she fell in love?”
“Oh, she did fall in love. Lots of times. But she preferred to keep her independence.” Felicity paused. “Did you know she took herself on a Grand Tour well before the French Revolution?”
He smiled. “No, I didn’t. Sounds as though Pete’s not the only adventurer in the family.”
“That’s true. Aunt Kirby said the fortune she’d inherited from her husband permitted her the freedom to live an extraordinary life. She wanted that for me, too.” She heaved an unhappy sigh. “That’s why she left me this ridiculous pile of money.”
“I see.” He closed the binder, studying her. “So what kind of extraordinary life do you envision, Miss Carvel?”
She looked at him for a long moment, a slight flicker of panic rising in the back of her mind at the question. Not a single answer came to her. Not a single dream dared present itself for her to chase, and that in itself