Page 32 of As the Devil Dares

“He seldom speaks of it,” Elizabeth continued, “yet it changed him. He’s not the same man he was before. For the longest time, I was so very worried about him.” Finally, she raised her eyes to meet Mariah’s, and hope sparkled in their cornflower-blue depths. “But this year, he’s finally setting a path for himself.”

“Oh?” Dread at what the duchess meant panged dully inside her. Because Mariah knew full well that Robert’s path drove right through her own.

Elizabeth smiled at their reflection, oblivious to the way that the hope for her son underpinning her expression sliced into Mariah’s heart. “This business venture with your father could prove to be the purpose he’s been searching for.”

Robert wanted purpose, and she understood that. But at what cost to her own dream?

Fresh frustration swelled inside her. Why did he have to pick Winslow Shipping? He could find another partnership in no time at all, while she…Well, it was the family business or nothing. She only wished Robert would realize that and gracefully concede.

Elizabeth smoothed down the skirt to check its fall around Mariah’s legs. “Then there was Diana Morgan, of course.”

“Of course,” she mumbled. Who on earth was Diana Morgan?

“You might know her. I believe she’s your sister’s age. Blond, very attractive…” She played with the drape of the gown. “A lovely girl.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” What the deuces did a very attractive blonde have to do with Robert?

“He courted her last season.” Elizabeth frowned as her attention fell to the skirt. “Do you like the hem? The pattern is awfully busy. We could ask Madame for a plain one, if you’d rather.”

“It’s fine.” She didn’t care a fig about the hem. What was this about Carlisle having courted someone? “And Miss Morgan?”

“We all thought he’d offer for her.”

A marriage offer from Robert Carlisle? Her chest squeezed, surely in sympathy for the poor girl. Without thinking, she blurted out, “I’m glad she escaped.”

With a gasp, she realized what she’d said. Her hand flew over her mouth in mortification. Heavens, how could she have been so thoughtless? To insult him like that in front of his mother, in such a cruel slap to her kindness—

“Me, too,” Elizabeth agreed, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

Mariah gaped at her. Instead of being angry, Elizabeth looked…relieved. “Pardon?”

“I agree with you completely, my dear. Miss Morgan isn’t at all the sort of woman Robert needs in a wife.”

Her mind reeled as she tried to follow this strange turn of conversation. And with his mother, no less. “Lovely, attractive…?”

“Unsuspecting,” Elizabeth confirmed somberly.

She choked on her surprise. Perhaps Carlisle hadn’t pulled the wool over his mother’s eyes quite as thoroughly as he’d thought.

“Robert doesn’t need a wife who agrees with him. What he needs is one who won’t hesitate to keep him in line, who knows her own mind and isn’t afraid to speak it. I’m hoping that this season he finds just that woman.” She paused, her gaze flicking to Mariah’s in the mirror. “Did you know that he was quite a handful as a child?” A faint smile played at her lips, as if she were amused by his behavior but afraid a full smile would condone it. “Always stirring up trouble of one kind or another, but never getting caught.”

That sounded exactly like him. Mariah couldn’t help the urge to hear more and cajoled, “Tell me?”

Elizabeth hesitated, as if uncertain whether she should give up secrets on her children. Then she lowered her voice and launched into a story about how his tutor had once fallen asleep after stealing a sticky bun from the kitchen, only to wake with his fingers glued to two rulers. “Which were also smeared with icing,” she finished, “so of course poor Mr. Fitzwater couldn’t blame Robert.”

Mariah laughed. It sounded exactly like something she would have done herself at Miss Pettigrew’s.

“And then, there was that incident with the piglets…”

By the time Madame returned, Elizabeth had shared over a half dozen stories about Robert and the tricks he’d played, both as a boy at home and later as a student at Eton and Oxford. Mariah was beginning to see him in a whole new light. One in which he wasn’t the selfish blackguard she so very much wanted him to be.

Of course, that didn’t mean that she would call an end to their war. If he continued to believe he had a claim to the company, then she had a right to fight back. And she certainly wouldn’t let him unsettle her again with any of those sinful kisses that left her weak-kneed and aching.

Madame held up the copper-colored satin and draped it across her shoulders. Her black hair shined exotically next to its shimmer, and her green eyes glowed.

“Ah, mademoiselle,” she purred ingratiatingly. “Très belle, non?”

“It’s lovely,” Elizabeth agreed, her eyes shining with approval. “Make her a ball gown in that, please, with all the accessories. Whatever you think she needs for her introduction.”