a nonstop campaign ever since. Dev had never liked the young woman with her cold blue eyes and false modesty and found it hard to believe that Max had not seen her for the manipulative schemer she was.
"This situation should not effect my commitment to Endurance," Max added before Dev could speak. "I have already enlisted Honoria's help in her behalf. I am sure Endurance will appreciate a knowledgeable woman her own age as a friend and confidante."
Dev had difficulty containing a snort of derision at the blindness of his friend. Honoria never permitted friendships with other women who might compete for a share of her spotlight. She had most likely agreed to play Lady Bountiful in order to further convince Max of her suitability as a wife.
"I think, Dev, that this season should run quite as planned," Max stated. "Unless Endurance is a complete antidote, I should be able to look over her prospects and come up with an acceptable match for her. In the meantime, I will have plenty of opportunity to consider Honoria's suitability as my wife."
"Have you given no consideration to the possibility that you might look for a woman to love?"
"Love is not a proper requisite for entering into a lifelong contract," Max answered pompously.
"Two years ago I might have agreed with your assessment, but, now that I have experienced the absolute bliss of a loving relationship, I find I cannot concur." Dev's face was troubled as he looked with fondness at his old friend. "As you know I scoffed at love but I can say that without Jena I would find little to convince me of the value of life. She is a constant joy to me, Max."
"I admit you have found happiness with Jena, but she is unique. I have vast experience with woman and feel I understand them quite well." Hearing a loud moan, Max stared at his friend in surprise.
"Now I know you have lost what little sense you possess," Dev stated, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Any man who announces he understands woman is doomed. The good Lord never intended us to understand, merely to enjoy."
Max waved his hand as if dismissing all his friend's arguments. "It is my way, old thing. I have arranged my life to function like a well-oiled machine. I do not want the disruptions and turmoils so common to the state of lovesick swains. Each of my estates is run to my specifications. My townhouse is Spartan, well ordered and easy to maintain. I want no confusion in my life."
"Sometimes there is great happiness in confusion."
"Perhaps for some," Max conceded. "But for me, I go the reasonable route. One need only realize that making a proper marriage is not unlike any other purchase. One must select the merchandise with great care to avoid flaws in the materials. Careful consideration is always the best plan."
Having been married for two years, Dev was wise enough to realize that where men and women were concerned things seldom ran according to plan. A low-cut dress and a pair of mischievous eyes could work havoc on the best of intentions. Dev's face registered concern that his friend should discount the joys of love. He could but hope that the season ahead would produce some young deb who, for Max, might turn out to be the perfect mate.
Chapter Two
"Remind me to keep my hands quiet and a still tongue in my head," Amity cried, wriggling on the carriage seat. "It's all so exciting but I must admit I am a trifle nervous. How will I remember all the lessons on proper etiquette, Muffin?"
Receiving only a snore in reply, Endurance Amity Fraser turned to stare out the carriage window. Not that she ever thought of herself as Endurance. She much preferred her second name and had adopted it for her own. Sometimes it was difficult to respond since no one at Beech House ever called her anything but Endurance. Amity thought the name sounded like some squinty-eyed spinster who would wear drab bombazine and a look of martyrdom etched on her face.
She grinned as the carriage hit a particularly nasty pothole, jolting her companion on the seat. The additional movement had little effect on the sleeper and, with a sniff of annoyance, Amity let her thoughts wander to her coming meeting with her guardian. Perhaps in eleven years she had changed enough to find favor in his eyes. She was too aware that she could never claim to be a beauty.