“That's a possibility,” he said, giving his chin a thoughtful stroke. “I do hope that we are able to keep the stakes even.”

“What the devil are you talking about?”

He smiled slowly. “I'm considered a fair shot. How about you?”

Her mouth fell open. She was so stunned that she couldn't even manage to say, “I beg your pardon.”

“That was a joke, Eleanor.”

She snapped her mouth back closed. “Of course,” she said in a terse voice. “I knew that.”

“Of course you did.”

Ellie felt a pressure building up within her, a frustration that this man could repeatedly render her speechless. “I am not a terribly good shot myself,” she replied, a tight smile decorating her face, “but I am prodigiously talented with knives.”

Charles made a choking sound and had to cover his mouth.

“And I am very silent on my feet.” She leaned forward, her smile turning mischievous as she regained control of her wit. “You might want to keep your door locked at night.”

He leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “But my darling, my aim in life is to make sure your door is unlocked at night. Every night.”

Ellie began to feel quite warm. “You promised…”

“And you promised”—he moved in closer, this time until his nose touched hers—“to let me try to seduce you whenever I wished.”

“Oh, for the love of Saint Peter,” she said with such disdain that Charles drew back in confusion. “If that isn't the most addlebrained collection of words I have ever heard in a single sentence.”

Charles blinked. “Are you insulting me?”

“Well, I certainly wasn't complimenting you,” she scoffed. “‘Let you try to seduce me.’ Oh, please. I promised you could try. I never said I'd ‘let’ you do anything.”

“I have never had this much trouble seducing a woman in my life.”

“I believe you.”

“Especially one I've agreed to marry.”

“I was under the impression I was the only one to hold that dubious honor.”

“Now, see here, Eleanor,” he said, his voice growing impatient. “You need this marriage just as much as I do. And don't try to tell me you don't. I've met Mrs. Foxglove now. I know what you have waiting for you at home.”

Ellie sighed. He knew just how tight a bind she was in. Mrs. Foxglove and her endless carping had seen to that.

“And,” he added irritably, “what the hell did you mean ‘you believe’ that I've never had so much trouble seducing a woman?”

She stared at him as if he were simpleminded. “Exactly that. I believe you. You must know you're a very handsome man.”

He appeared not to know how to reply. Ellie was rather pleased to have set him at a loss for words for a change. She continued with, “And you're quite charming.”

He brightened. “Do you think so?”

“Too charming,” she added, narrowing her eyes, “which makes it difficult to discern the difference between your compliments and your flattery.”

“Just assume they're all compliments,” he said with a wave of his hand, “and we'll both be happier.”