while, lifted Kate’s spirits. “What an excellent suggestion. You don’t mind leaving Jack to fend for himself?”
“Oh, once he and Marco stop needling each other, they will actually enjoy conversing on Roman art and antiquities. For all of my cousin’s frivolous teasing, he is very knowledgeable on the subject.”
“I never would have guessed that the conte had any interest in intellectual subjects,” she replied slowly.
“Marco has a number of unexpected facets to his character, which he takes great pains to hide.” Alessandra’s voice took on a wry note. “But then, who am I to talk?”
Kate hesitated for a moment before answering. “I daresay we all have things that we keep to ourselves.”
Let her go.
Assuming an expression of bored indifference, Marco slowly looked away from watching the two ladies walk off.
“Set your sights elsewhere,” murmured Jack, as if reading his mind. “You may be her cousin, but Alessandra will chop off your testicolos and feed them to the Tower ravens if you try to play your usual wicked games with Miss Woodbridge.”
Though he was thinking much the same thing, Marco reacted with a cynical smirk. “What makes you think she wouldn’t welcome my attentions?”
“The fact that you are a conceited coxcomb and your arrogance is insufferable at times.”
“Si.” Marco widened his mouth to a wolfish grin. “But most females find that intriguing.”
“Alessandra’s friends are not like most females,” pointed out Jack. “Their intellect sets them apart, so you can’t expect to charm them with your usual approach.” He paused. “I imagine that Miss Woodbridge is smart enough to see that you are an arse.”
“Trust me, Lord Giacomo, I don’t need advice on flirting from you.”
“No? Well, from what I have observed, you don’t appear to be making much progress on your own.”
Leaning a shoulder on the fluted molding, Marco watched the last little flutter of sea-green silk disappear down the corridor. To be sure, Kate Woodbridge was no ordinary young lady. But it was not just her brains that set her apart. There was an unexpected glint of grittiness shading her lovely aquamarine eyes. As if she had seen the grim realities of the world outside of the gilded confines of Mayfair’s mansions.
Which was, of course, highly unlikely. Kate was the granddaughter of the Duke of Cluyne, one of the highest sticklers of Polite Society. She had been born into a life of wealth and privilege and was surrounded by an army of servants ready to do her bidding.
Such coddled innocence bored him to perdition. So why did the sway of her shapely hips provoke the urge to follow?
“Perhaps I haven’t tried very hard,” drawled Marco, turning his attention to the folds of his cravat. Smoothing a finger over the starched linen, he added, “It’s hardly a fair match of skills. And contrary to what you may think, I do not deliberately toy with an innocent young lady’s affections.”
Jack gave a mock grimace. “Good God, you mean to say that you have a conscience?”
Marco straightened from his slouch. “You military heroes are not the only ones with a code of honor.”
“Well, you need not wage any great moral battle with your self-proclaimed noble scruples. According to Alessandra, her friend can look out for herself.”
Marco let out a grunt of laughter. “Miss Woodbridge may be clever and possess a cutting tongue, but that does not mean she is equipped to deal with the darker side of life.” He curled a lip. “Rapscallion roués, jaded fortune hunters. Or rakehell rogues like me.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” countered Jack. “From what I gather, Miss Woodbridge has had a rather eccentric upbringing. Her mother tossed away title and fortune to elope with an American sea captain. She’s spent most of her life sailing around the world.”
He felt his sardonic smile thin ever so slightly. His cousin had not talked much about her friends with him. No doubt feeling that he couldn’t quite be trusted with the intimate details of their lives.
“The fact is, I think she had a rather rough time of it these last few years,” continued Jack. “Her parents died of a fever within days of each other, and only a deathbed promise to them brought Miss Woodbridge here to seek a reconciliation with her grandfather.” He shrugged. “Apparently the waters at Cluyne House are anything but calm. She’s fiercely independent, which tends to make waves with the duke.”
“That begins to explain her salty language,” murmured Marco thoughtfully. Today was not the first time she had let fly with a very unladylike