Page 21 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

“Here in Britain, a young lady can be refused her inheritance by her father or guardian until she is a certain age.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “What age?”

“Any age the man chooses.”

She cursed.

He laughed. “Do keep those words for our conversations alone. It is not what ladies do in London.”

“Too bad.”

“Zeph,” he said in sympathy, “I know the age limit is unfair.”

“Stupid.” She rolled her shoulders.

“He might not have limited you at all. We should see first before we speculate that—”

“My dear papa was a tyrant. So yes, if he thought it all the rage, he would put a limit on my age. He probably had me inheriting at age forty or fifty. No? Do not scoff, sir. I wager you a hundred pounds.”

My sweetheart, you are so bold. “I will not take your money.”

She blew out air. “I will overturn my father’s regulations.”

“It is not that easy,”

“No? I know ways.”

He suspected subterfuge. Zephora Butler, hoyden, was capable. How well he knew it! “What ways?”

“Money buys so much.”

“You cannot promise what you do not have.”

“Then you will lend it to me so I can get my due.”

She challenged him? He snorted. And surrendered. “You are right. I will.”

“Good.” She folded her arms across her fabulous chest.

Even in the pelisse of ripe purple wool, he noted the two apples of her breasts were now…God help him…grapefruits. He should not lick his lips, but save him, he did.

“What else do I need here in Town, eh?” Her golden eyes caressed his own, then fell to his lips and his hands.

He was lost. Lost.

She was an imp. He flexed his fingers, the need to take her to him, to kiss her to silence, rising in him like an inferno in his blood.

He’d like to show her what else he needed, but that was so impossible. He’d go to his club tonight, drink heavily, meet his friends, and go find the woman he had favored last year to ease his physical challenges.

He smacked his lips. “You need more clothes.”

“Dear me.” She whipped out that fan she had taken to beating the air with lately. Was she angrier…or…was she trying to seduce him with those eyes? Hell if he knew.

He’d confound her. “Jewels.”

“What?”

“You need pearls wrapped in gold to match your skin and your eyes.”