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on. It would be even better if she could persuade him to read, but she had learned at an early age that gentlemen weren't inclined toward the literary arts.
    Planning Darley's improvements, Marian wasn't aware of the approach of the elegant gentleman she had noted earlier. Caught up in her conquest, she had managed to forget all about him. His arrival at their table after Darley's entreating wave dashed all possibility that she would ever be so gifted as to forget him entirely. The gray-green eyes glaring down at her from his towering height turned to an icy gray as Darley made the introductions.
    Reginald Montague.
    The braying ass from the inn.
    Darley's closest, dearest friend.
    Disaster. Marian tried not to close her eyes and resort to prayer as she smiled innocently into those furious eyes. She was mentally counting her markers, racking losses against gains to see how she stood and if she had a chance of winning this hand. The odds looked about even, depending on how much of a gentleman Montague might be. If he told Darley of their encounter, all was lost. If he held his tongue and just disapproved of her, she might counter his disapproval with the feminine wiles of a potential countess. She knew Darley's mother approved of her. That would load the odds in her favor.
    She had to make Mr. Montague hold his tongue. She had spent three weeks setting her cap on Darley. She didn't have a great deal of time left to lose. There were second and third runners in the contest for her hand, because she was a practical woman, but none of the others were as appealing as Darley. She wouldn't let this disagreeable Corinthian stand in her way.
    "Lady Marian." Montague acknowledged the introduction with the barest of nods and none of the effusive greetings to which Marian had become accustomed. She wasn't a great beauty, but she was a new face, and the gentlemen seemed to react with pleasure to anything or anyone different from the usual. It wore off quickly, she knew, but generally most of them managed to be pleasant through the introductions. This man hadn't even the common decency to smile through that.
    "Mr. Montague." She managed a syrupy voice and a light smile. "Lord Darley has been telling me about your stable. You are indeed a fortunate man as well as possessing a skilled eye for horses if all he tells me is true." A compliment like that on top of a subject about which most men were usually mad, generally put them at ease. She waited to see how he would react.
    He merely gave a curt nod and turned to Darley. "Will I see you at the club later?"
    Marian wasn't much accustomed to being treated with rudeness. She wondered if she kicked his shin under the table would he even notice. With a rump as stiff as his, he probably had no feelings below the waist.
    She almost giggled at the thought. Some of her laughter must have escaped, because he turned a wary eye in her direction. Marian pretended not to notice as she turned to Jessica's young gallant, complimenting him on his elegant attire. He turned red but set out upon a learned discourse on the topic of available tailors.
    Once Montague had departed, she gratefully returned her attention to the viscount. At least Lord Darley conversed intelligently without stuttering and stammering. Poor Jessica. Marian really was going to have to look into a proper suitor for her sister just as soon as she had Darley firmly attached, which wouldn't be ever if Montague had any say in the matter.
    Marian listened with dread as Darley sang the man's praises. What hope was there for a mere woman against a man who knew the best tailors, stocked the finest wines, owned the fastest horses, and in general was the male epitome of perfection? It was quite apparent whose word would be believed first should it come to a confrontation.
    Drat her dreadful tongue. She had held it carefully for three entire weeks. Would that she had held it one day earlier. She could see disaster looming with every pearl of praise