A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement #2)(5)

"What were the people like?"

"I found the Dutch are quite similar to the English in their character."

"How do you mean?"

"Much like us, they are a pragmatic and industrious people who take great pride in their trade."

"Did you learn to speak their language?"

"I did. It behooves one to learn the local tongues. Marcus has a great command of Latin and French, the primary languages of diplomacy, while I have a respectable knowledge of German and Dutch, the tongues of our greatest allies. Speaking of which, would you be terribly offended if I reviewed some correspondence? I apologize for even asking you, but I've received some important letters for Marcus that require immediate translation. "

"I don't mind at all," Mariah replied, wondering if her colorless conversation had bored him. "Please feel free to attend to your duties."

"Thank you for your indulgence," he replied with a smile.

He then reached into the leather satchel he'd carried into the coach and retrieved several wax-sealed documents. With Lady Russell still softly snoring and Mr. Needham engaged in his correspondence, Mariah took advantage of the opportunity to study him.

Her attention was drawn first to his hands, large and well formed with long fingers stained at the tips with ink smudges. She wondered that she hadn't noticed before, but then again, he'd been wearing gloves. She'd earlier noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He must have been up very late working. She admired his discipline and respected his diligence.

Her gaze tracked next over his clothing. He wore a coat and breeches of navy broadcloth and an ivory damask waistcoat with gold buttons. His suit was plain but well fitted to him. He might even have been taken for an upper class tradesman but for the fine tailoring and the expensive Mechlin lace adorning his collar and cuffs, which clearly marked him as a gentleman.

She liked that he wore his own hair, a lustrous shade of dark chestnut brown, rather than a powdered wig like so many gentlemen preferred. He combed it straight back from his forehead, secured in a queue. It was a severe style that drew the eye to the distinct widow's peak in the center of his forehead. With his angular features and longish nose, she decided that Nicolas Needham was not an uncommonly handsome man—until he suddenly glanced up at her. For the second time, he'd caught her watching him. There was something mesmerizing about his golden-brown eyes. His lips pursed and his brows lifted ever so slightly, suggesting that he read her thoughts. Although they weren't alone, the closed carriage suddenly seemed far too intimate.

"Have you finished with your correspondence?" she asked.

"For the nonce," he replied, folding the letters that covered his lap and stacking them neatly inside his case. "There is nothing else so pressing that I would deny myself the companionship of a charming lady."

"Are all London gentlemen so generous with their flattery?"

One dark brow slanted upward over his intelligent and expressive eyes. "I believe many are, but I am exceedingly frugal with mine."

"Oh?" She experienced another sudden flush of warmth. Unaccustomed to flirtation, Mariah found herself reverting back to the trite remarks that had compelled him to seek better entertainment only an hour ago. "Have you been to the duke's home before?"

"Yes. I have accompanied Marcus several times,” he said. "But I understand His Grace has recently made a number of improvements."

"Indeed? Then I count myself fortunate to have been invited to see it." She grimaced internally. Another long silence ensued. She held her tongue, refusing to break it with another trite question. She wondered how long he would politely endure her dull discourse before making another excuse to occupy himself with work.

"Do you enjoy house parties, Lady Mariah?" he asked.

"I don't know," she confessed. "This will be my first one."

"You have never been to a house party?"

"Sadly, no," she sighed. "I visit my cousin Lydia from time to time, but there are rarely other guests. I live a truly dull life."

"Have you any hobbies?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," she replied. "I paint a bit, read a lot, mostly poetry and plays."

"Who are your favorites?"

"I love Shakespeare, Mr. Pope, and Mr. Dryden."

"Really? I also enjoy Dryden. What of music? Do you play?"

"Only cards! I am a superior whist partner but a pitiful musician," she said ruefully.

"At least you acknowledge it," he chuckled. "I know far too many people who take great pride in assaulting one's ears."

"I would never be so cruel."

His lips curved ever so slightly in the barest hint of a smile. He had a truly lovely smile. Too bad he used it so sparingly. Mariah decided to make it her mission to make him smile, whether he wanted to or not.

"Do you ride?" he asked.

"I used to. I very much enjoyed the hunt with Papa, but I am no longer permitted to participate as I was once wont to do. Since he has become an invalid, Mama allows me little freedom for fear of an accident. Her greatest terror is that I will leave her alone to care for him. It's quite stifling." The confession to this near stranger had gurgled out so thoughtlessly. She wondered why she'd shared with him feelings she'd never voiced even to Lydia—how truly suffocated she felt. "What of you, Mr. Needham, do you enjoy house parties?"