Compromising Miss Tisdale by Jessica Jefferson Page A

crossing his ankle over his knee. “After all the evidence presented before me, I simply made an educated deduction. There must be a reason why you, as the eldest sister, remain without a husband, whilst a younger sister marries. And of course, there is the matter of your appearance. I can hardly imagine how a woman as beautiful as yourself has managed to remain unmarried for more than one Season, let alone several. That is, unless it was by your own choosing.”
    Ambrosia felt her face again flush at his compliment. “I admit that it is unique that Lillian married first. However, that decision was met with a great deal of deliberation. My parents did debate postponing the engagement till after I had secured an offer. But, Lilly and Lord Colton were so in love, that to do so would have been terribly cruel. And I realize that my advanced maturity may lead one to draw conclusions, but I assure you that I want very much to be married. After all, it is my duty as a daughter to do so.”
    He cocked his head slightly, curiously regarding her. “Duty? I should think you more fanciful than that. Don’t most women speak of love and all that nonsensical business?”
    She was fidgeting.
    Ambrosia never fidgeted.
    In fact, she often scolded her sisters for the very same thing. Yet, there she was, pulling at her fingers and flexing her hands. An activity meant to divert her attention from the questions at hand. Questions she couldn’t answer to herself, let alone this man who, for all intent and purposes, was still practically a stranger.
    “I am hardly what one would consider fanciful. There is so much more to consider with marriage than simply love. I am content on waiting for what I deem to be an acceptable offer.”
    Duncan had not been surprised by the size, nor the splendor of the Tisdale home. He had heard rumblings of their considerable wealth and judging by the opulence that surrounded him, they no doubt knew how to best display it. Tea at the Tisdale’s was nothing short of having tea with members of royalty, which amongst the Ton they were. Ambrosia’s manners were impeccable, without fault, as he expected. She treated him with the same polite indifference she would any other visitor—despite the fact that unlike other visitors, he had touched her in ways presumably most had not.
    He’d been on his best behavior, hopefully gaining her confidence with his superior display of feigned interest. He hadn’t even argued when she rebuffed his request for a more suitable beverage. He abhorred tea, but had managed to suffer through it with an incandescent smile. He had even gone so far as to actually drink some of the revolting liquid.
    Duncan looked over at a vast portrait hanging over the fireplace. It was of a man, a handsome gentleman in his twenties, with the same lapis eyes that both Ambrosia and her sister possessed. The man in the portrait had shaggy, chestnut hair and posed casually, wearing riding clothes and a cavalier smile. The painting exuded a kind of playfulness that was the antithesis of the subdued woman whom sat before him. But the physical likeness was staggering and it was clear the gentleman in the picture had to be a relation.
    “Is that your father?” Duncan asked, particularly drawn to the man in the painting. “You certainly take after him.”
    He tried to picture Miss Tisdale smiling so and standing in such a relaxed manner.
    It was impossible.
    She stood and walked toward the painting, stopping once she had reached the mantle. “Actually, I greatly resemble my mother. Identical, if it weren’t for the quarter century that separates us. I’m afraid I look nothing like my father.”
    Duncan allowed himself to survey her figure from behind as she stood admiring the man in the portrait. She was wearing a gauzy lavender dress, and even though he cared little for the color, and the cut was explicitly modest, the fine fabric clung to her curves and moved with her in the most enticing ways. Despite