Читать книгу The Earl's Countess Of Convenience - Marguerite Kaye - Страница 11

In the kitchen Eloise was immediately waylaid by Phoebe and Estelle, who were sitting at the huge scrubbed table guarding the tea tray which was set out in readiness, waiting to pounce on her the moment she appeared.

‘Is he as handsome close up as he looks from a distance?’

‘He was immaculately turned out. He does not have the look of a man who is a stranger to soap.’

‘You’ve been closeted away with him for an age. Why has it taken you so long to order tea? Look, Phoebe, she’s blushing.’

‘Do you like him, Eloise?’

‘Do you think he likes you?’

She refused to answer a single question while setting Phoebe’s freshly baked biscuits out on a plate, and there were a great deal more thrown at her while she waited on the water boiling. ‘I’ll tell you all about it later, I promise,’ Eloise said, picking up the tray.

‘Chapter and verse!’ the twins chorused in unison.

Returning to the drawing room, Eloise was even more flustered than when she had left fifteen minutes earlier. The fact that Alexander, when he crossed the room to take the tray from her, looked even more handsome on second viewing, did nothing to improve her fractured composure. It was a huge relief, she told herself, nothing more. It wasn’t that she wanted an attractive husband, but facing this man over the breakfast table would be no hardship.

‘Were you thinking that I had fled the country in embarrassment?’ Irked at the breathless note in her voice, Eloise sat down beside him and began to set out the cups. ‘Please try a biscuit. Phoebe made them. They are not sweet, but spiced.’

‘I take it, then, that you reassured your sisters, while making tea, that I am neither odiferous nor do I have bad breath. They would have seen for themselves that I don’t stoop or wear spectacles. I spotted them peering out of the window at me when I arrived.’

Eloise stopped in the act of spooning tea from the walnut caddy. ‘How embarrassing. I am so sorry.’

‘There’s no need to apologise. It’s perfectly understandable that they would be protective of their big sister and want to give me the once over.’ Alexander helped himself to another biscuit. ‘Am I to assume, then, that they endorse your decision to meet with me today?’

‘Oh, yes, very much so.’ Would he think them all money-grasping harpies? ‘Not that I made the decision lightly, you understand. In fact, we discussed it a great deal.’ Was that worse? ‘What you are proposing—well, it would be to our mutual advantage, wouldn’t it? A—a quid pro quo.’ She smiled, but it felt more like a wince. ‘And it’s not an unfamiliar concept to me, of course. Kate—Lady Elmswood—and my uncle have already made a success of a similar accommodation.’

‘Yes. Daniel was quite frank with me on the advantages of his own arrangement.’

‘You are old friends, I understand.’

Alexander smiled blandly. ‘We bump into each other occasionally. Tell me a little more about yourself. I know next to nothing, save what Daniel told me.’

‘That I am a mother hen with an overdeveloped sense of duty!’

‘Was his assessment correct?’

‘No! At least—that makes me sound—I suppose I have been—Kate thinks that my sisters will benefit from being out from under my wings, and I think she might be right. I keep forgetting that they are twenty years old, young women and not children.’

‘There are four years between you, I believe?’

‘Yes. It doesn’t sound a lot, but when we were little it made a big difference.’ Eloise set her teacup aside. ‘They have been my responsibility since—I was going to say since they were born, but even Mama was not quite so careless as to leave a pair of babes in my charge. We had a nurse, but later, from the schoolroom I suppose, when the first of our governesses left, I have taken care of my sisters.’

‘You make it sound as if there was a procession of governesses.’

Eloise rolled her eyes. ‘We lived in the wilds of Ireland. Not many genteel ladies could endure the life, and when they left, as they invariably did, it was sometimes a while before Mama noticed. She spent a great deal of time with Papa in Dublin, when the—the dibs were in tune—have I that right?’

Alexander frowned. ‘Your father was a gambler?’

‘Well, yes, though not in the sense that your cousin is. He only placed wagers on his own runners—or so he claimed. My mother did not approve of his obsession with the track. He bred racehorses. Papa said that, as an Irishman, the turf was in his blood. Sadly, his obsession outstripped both his luck and his judgement, and he lost a great deal more than he won. When he lost, and had to retrench, then he and Mama would rusticate with us girls.’ Suddenly realising that she had been cajoled into discussing the very subject that she wished to avoid, Eloise picked up the teapot. ‘Would you care for another cup?’

Alexander shook his head. She was horribly conscious of his eyes on her as she poured herself one, of the spark of anger in her voice which always betrayed her when she talked of those days. ‘Your parents,’ he said, ‘you did not look forward to their visits?’

‘It was rather that they did not care for them. Or for us.’ Eloise sighed. He was not going to give up, she realised. ‘Until Diarmuid, my brother, was born, I would have said that my parents were the sort who were indifferent to their children. They didn’t exactly dislike us, don’t get me wrong, but aside from Papa and his thoroughbreds, all they really cared about was each other. But then Diarmuid came along. He is—he was five years younger than Phoebe and Estelle and from the moment he was born, Mama and Papa were quite besotted with him. I have never understood why they did not care for my sisters in the same way, it’s not as if they were troublesome or demanding children.’

‘Sometimes,’ Alexander said, ‘it is simply that there is room in a parent’s heart for only one child.’

His tone was even, his expression neutral, but Eloise was certain he must be thinking of his brother who died and she, who had long ago decided she would not be hurt by her parents’ blatant favouritism, recognised a similar resolve in Alexander. It made her warm to him. Her instinct was to commiserate, but that would be to recognise a scar that he would not acknowledge existed.

‘Well,’ Eloise said, ‘in our family that child was Diarmuid. The golden child, quite literally—he had a mass of sunny golden curls. Such an endearing little boy he was too when he was very little, with the kind of smile that no one could resist. We all adored him. I often wonder, if he had not been such a favourite, whether he would have been a more endearing little boy, but he was so very spoilt, the sulks and the tantrums on the rare occasions he didn’t get things his own way were inevitable, I suppose. Mama and Papa were forever telling him how wonderful he was, it’s not surprising that he believed them. Perhaps he’d have grown out of it.’

‘You don’t believe that, do you?’

‘Not really. It’s a dreadful thing to say, but though I loved him because he was my brother, I liked him less and less with every year. He was moulded too much in the image of Mama and Papa. Smothered with love, and quite ruined by it, while we girls were utterly neglected and all the better for it. I am sure there is a happy medium to be found, but I have never been tempted to discover it for myself.’

‘That is something else we have in common, then.’

Eloise gave herself a shake. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean the conversation to take such a melancholy turn.’

‘Then let us change it.’ Alexander took another biscuit. ‘These are very good. My compliments to Phoebe.’

‘She will be pleased, for they are made to a receipt of her own invention. She is a very creative cook. When she first invaded the kitchens—she can have been no more than five or six—her concoctions were much less appetising. I remember one cake in particular, which she told us had a very secret ingredient. It kept us guessing for a very long time before she finally revealed it to be new-mown grass.’

‘What about Estelle, does she also have a particular talent?’

‘She is musical. Not in the way people describe most young ladies—she doesn’t simply strum the pianoforte or the harp—she can pick up any instrument and get a tune from it. And she writes her own music too, and songs. She is really very talented.’ A talent which her parents had been utterly indifferent to. ‘She wrote a piece to welcome Mama and Papa home once. My sisters would so look forward to Mama and Papa coming home. They would forget what it had been like on previous occasions and imagine—’ Eloise broke off, swallowing the lump in her throat. ‘Needless to say, they were suitably unimpressed. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have mentioned it—but it used to make me so angry, you see. It wouldn’t have taken much to make the twins happy, but it was still too much for them to make an effort.’

‘So you made it instead, is that it?’

There was sympathy in his eyes, but she was embarrassed at having betrayed so much. She had tried so hard to compensate, and to shield her sisters too, from her parents’ callousness, her mother’s infidelities, her father’s cuckolded fury. They never talked of those days now, it was too painful for all of them, but she knew that the twins were as scarred as she by their experiences. ‘You’re thinking that Daniel was right when he called me a mother hen.’

‘I’m thinking that your sisters are very lucky to have you.’

‘And they would agree with you. Most of the time.’ She smiled, making light of the compliment, but she was touched all the same by it. ‘I’ve told you a great deal about me, it’s only fair that you reciprocate.’

‘Oh, you already know everything there is to know about me. I’m the younger son who bucks family tradition and does something boring at the Admiralty.’

‘What, precisely, is it you do that is so boring?’

‘Mainly, I count weevils and anchors.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Well, technically I don’t count the weevils, I count the ship’s biscuit that they consume.’

‘What on earth is ship’s biscuit?’

‘It is also known as hard tack—a form of bread, which does not go stale though it is inclined to attract weevils. Weevils,’ Alexander said, waving his hand dismissively, ‘are a way of life in the navy, no sailor worth his salt minds them. It was the diarist, Samuel Pepys, who regularised victualling, as we call it,’ he said, seeming to warm to his subject. ‘Pepys came up with the table of rations which we quartermasters use today to calculate the supply required for each of our ships. One pound of ship’s biscuit per man per day is what we calculate—that is the weight before the weevils have taken their share, of course. And a gallon of beer. So now you know all about me.’

‘I know more about the role of a Victualling Commissioner, at any rate,’ Eloise said, biting back a smile.

‘There is no one else at the Admiralty who understands the need as well as I do, to ensure that hard tack is made to the same recipe, no matter which part of the world the raw ingredients are sourced in.’

‘You mean the correct ratio of weevils to biscuit?’

‘I mean the correct ratio of flour to water,’ Alexander said reprovingly.

A bubble of laughter finally escaped her. ‘I am tempted, very tempted, to ask you for the receipt, but I am fairly certain that if you don’t know it you would surely make it up.’

‘I do know it, in actual fact. I make it my business to know every aspect of my business.’

‘And such a fascinating business it is too.’

‘I think so, at any rate. I don’t find it boring at all,’ Alexander replied. ‘Of course my duties will be curtailed for a period while I establish my marriage. I am required to travel abroad a great deal, but I could not, if the veracity of my marriage is to be maintained, abandon my wife within a few weeks of making my vows, and so will work from the Admiralty building in London for the foreseeable future.’

She could not make him out at all, for while she was fairly certain he had been teasing her at first, now he seemed to be quite sincere. ‘You would not contemplate resigning, now that you are the Earl of Fearnoch, and all that entails?’

‘No. My life is with the Admiralty. I am willing, for very good reasons, to find a compromise for a few months, but give it up—absolutely not.’

His primary very good reason being to make provision for his mother, and his second to rid himself of most of the wealth he was marrying to inherit. Not for Alexander, a life of privilege and leisure. He was a man with a strong sense of duty, to his mother and to his country, and a man determined to do both on his own terms. Her admiration for him climbed several notches.

‘Miss Brannagh...’

‘Eloise.’

‘Eloise. From Heloise?’

‘I believe my mother rather fancied herself as La Nouvelle Héloïse. A free spirit, though I think she radically reinterpreted Monsieur Rousseau’s creation to suit her own notion of freedom which meant, by and large, the freedom to do exactly as she pleased and beggar the consequences. And now you will think me disloyal for being so disrespectful towards my own mother, especially since she is deceased. What is it they say, never talk ill of the dead?’

‘From what you’ve told me, Miss Brannagh—Eloise—it is more than justified.’

‘Well, it is, frankly, but I cannot help thinking—forgive me, Alexander, but I can’t help but contrast my finding fault with my mother and your truly honourable behaviour towards your own.’

‘I am merely providing the settlement I believe her entitled to. Do not make a saint of me, I beg you.’

‘I imagine your mother must think you a bit of a saint, since you are marrying in order to provide for her. In fact, I’ve been wondering why she hasn’t put forward any candidates for the post? The position, I mean. Of your wife. Or perhaps she has?’

‘You are the only current candidate. You have a very inflated idea of my attractions as a husband. First you line up queues of women for me, and now you have me rather arrogantly going through some sort of process of elimination.’

‘If you eliminate me, what will you do?’

‘I have no idea what I will do if you—if we decide we don’t suit. I will certainly not be asking my mother to, as you most eloquently phrased it, put someone forward for the post.’ He was silent for a moment, clearly struggling with his thoughts. ‘She would not help me, even if I asked her. She does not believe that the reasons I outlined to you are sufficiently compelling. In short, she disapproves of marriages of convenience, even if mutually advantageous. She was quite vehement on the subject.’

‘Despite the fact that it means she will likely starve?’

‘It would not come to that.’

‘But aside from that, Alexander, and even aside from all the tenants who are now yours but who must have once been hers, are you seriously saying your mother wishes you to hand over the Fearnoch fortune to your cousin?’

Once again, he was silent, painfully silent, his expression taut. Eloise touched his hand tentatively. ‘Alexander?’

He blinked, shook his head. ‘I can only conclude that my mother, having relied first upon her husband and then my brother to support her, underestimates the impact on her standard of living unless I intervene. Nor, I must assume, can she have any idea of the havoc my cousin would wreak on the estates.’

‘But even if she is somewhat deluded,’ Eloise said doubtfully, ‘surely she would prefer you to inherit rather than your cousin? Is it your plans to rid yourself of the estates, perhaps, that she objects to?’

‘I told her nothing of my plans, save that I intended to marry, and by doing so, to secure her future. The purpose of my visit was not to explain myself, but simply to reassure her. I failed. In fact, she became overwrought. Since my mind was set, I saw no point in attempting to reason with her.’

Eloise’s heart sank. It was clear to her that Alexander’s mother didn’t wish her son to marry a gold-digger, and it should be equally clear to him. ‘Your mother is to be admired,’ she said carefully, ‘for putting your interests before her own. Knowing that your preference would be to remain unmarried...’

‘She can know no such thing. My mother and I are, to all intents and purposes, strangers to each other.’

‘Strangers! What on earth do you mean by that?’

‘Like your own mother, mine had interest only in one child. That child was not me. I was packed off to school at an early age, and spent most of my holidays in the country while my parents remained in London with Walter. I joined the Admiralty at sixteen and have spent the majority of my time since then abroad. Though we have met on occasion since—at her husband’s funeral, and most recently, when I returned to England after Walter died—they have been only very occasional meetings, and my mother seems perfectly content for that state of affairs to remain unchanged.’

‘You are implying that she abandoned you. But why? And now, when she has lost her husband and her only other son, why—oh, Alexander, I’m so sorry, this must be incredibly painful for you.’

‘I have long become accustomed to her indifference. I would have thought, after what you told me of your own upbringing, that you would understand that.’

Eloise was nonplussed. There was a world of difference between uninterest and outright rejection, but to say so would be cruel. Alexander might well believe himself reconciled to it, but the way he spoke, the way he held himself, told quite another story. She would not rub salt into the wound. ‘You’re right,’ she said, deciding to risk covering his hand with hers, ‘that is one thing we have in common. Your determination to provide for her, despite—it is an extremely honourable and admirable thing to do. Although it strikes me that she might be, as a consequence, disinclined to like your wife,’ she added awkwardly.

‘My marriage will allow me to right a wrong. I am not interested in my mother’s gratitude nor am I interested in her opinion of the woman I choose to marry. As I said, we have never been close, and I see no reason for my marriage to alter that state of affairs. Now if you don’t mind, I think we have more important matters to discuss than my mother.’

* * *

Alexander was furious with himself. Though he had striven to keep his tone neutral, it was clear, from the sympathy in her voice, in the way Eloise had touched his hand, that his feelings had betrayed him.

‘Will you excuse me just a moment?’ He strode over to the window, staring out sightlessly at the view of the ordered drive, the neatly clipped yew hedge which bordered it. When Robertson, the lawyer, had informed him in that precise way of his that the Seventh Earl had chosen to abide by the Sixth Earl’s terms with regard to the Dowager Lady Fearnoch, Alexander had been first confused, then outraged on his mother’s behalf. When he called on her, he’d expected to find her deep in mourning, perhaps bereft with grief, for her beloved eldest son had been dead only five months. Instead she had seemed, as she always seemed, aloof, cold, firmly in control of herself. Only when he informed her of his plans had she become animated, begging him not to marry for her sake, or for any other reason than love. Love! As if he would ever take such a risk. There was no place for love in his life, save the one which had ruled him since he was sixteen, and that was for his country.

He leaned his head on the cool of the window pane, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. His mother didn’t want his help. She didn’t want anything from him. As if he needed any more evidence of that! Her reaction was irrelevant. She had been wronged. It was up to him to make it right.

Alexander slanted a glance at Eloise, head lowered, intent on studying her clasped hands in order to grant him the semblance of privacy, and his sense of purpose strengthened. It was vital that they understood each other from the very start, if this marriage was to have any chance of succeeding.

As he resumed his seat opposite her, she seemed to brace herself. ‘If you’re having second thoughts, I’d rather you said so now.’

‘I am not,’ Alexander said firmly. ‘I was thinking the very opposite. I’m very serious about this, but I need to understand if you feel the same.’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I were not entirely serious.’

He steepled his hands, choosing his words with care. ‘When people marry in the traditional manner, it is with the expectation that affection, passion, love, if you wish, will form a bond between them, and that bond will in time be augmented by children. If we marry, we will have neither of those things. And we would be required to stay together, Eloise, albeit in name only, for the rest of our lives. We cannot afford to have regrets, which means we must enter into this agreement with a clear understanding of what we are getting into.’

‘And also what we are not getting into.’

‘You’re quite right,’ he agreed with a small smile. ‘It is very difficult to be honest with someone who was until this morning a complete stranger, but it is far better that we make the effort now, before it is too late. I have been frank with you, and, as you have doubtless realised, I am not accustomed to confiding my thoughts to anyone. You know why I wish to be married, but I’m not sure I understand your reasons sufficiently. You tell me that you have never wanted children—and now I’ve heard a little of your upbringing, I can understand why, but what is it you do want? I need to know, Eloise, that you’re not marrying purely for your sisters’ sake.’

‘And as I told my sisters, I have no desire to be a sacrificial lamb of a wife.’

‘I am very relieved to hear that. So tell me, then, what kind of a wife do you wish to be?’

‘Well, firstly, what you offer, a marriage which does not entail any—any wifely duties, is the only marriage I would consider. I’ve said enough, I hope, regarding my parents’ marriage to give you an idea of its nature. Passionate and poisonous in equal measure, an endless round of fighting and making up that shattered our peace, and put all of us girls constantly on edge. If that is love, I want nothing whatsoever to do with it.’

‘Why marry at all, if that is the case?’

She looked up at that. ‘I could remain single, though don’t forget, Alexander, I have the evidence before my eyes every day of how successful a marriage of convenience can be. It would be a lie if I told you I haven’t thought of my sisters, because I’ve spent most of my life putting them first, and the settlement you are offering is very generous, far too much for my requirements. I would share it with them, and I would leave it entirely up to Phoebe and Estelle to decide what use they put the money to. There is nothing worse, I imagine, than to be given a sum of money and then told how to spend it. I am determined not to do that.’

‘Even if Estelle spends it on establishing an orchestra and Phoebe on—oh, I don’t know, setting herself up in a restaurant.’

Eloise chuckled. ‘Neither of those is outwith the bounds of possibility.’ She resumed her study of her hands. ‘My next reason for considering your proposal is to take the burden of responsibility for the three of us from Uncle Daniel. He has—albeit through Kate—looked after us for five years, and I rather think he spent a significant amount of money paying off Papa’s debts too. We owe him a great deal—and when I say him, I mean Kate too, naturally.’

‘That is very admirable.’

‘Anyone in my position would feel the same, but honestly, Alexander, it was neither of those reasons which persuaded me to meet with you today.’ She smiled fleetingly at him. ‘My main reason is quite simple. Freedom for myself and for my sisters too. By marrying you, I’d earn my independence, and I’d be able to offer the same independence to my sisters, which is something I could never do were I to find an occupation—as a female, not only are there very few respectable careers, none of them would pay me any more than a pittance. My reward for being your wife will be the freedom to do whatever I want without having to consult anyone else or to be beholden to anyone else—provided I maintain the façade of being Lady Fearnoch, of course. You can’t imagine what that would mean to me.’

In fact, he could imagine it very easily. It was one of the most rewarding aspects of his work, to act on his own initiative, to solve the problems he was given in whatever way he saw fit. Only once had he compromised that freedom. The price had been almost unbearable. Never again. ‘So,’ he said, firmly closing his mind to the memory, ‘how will you use that freedom?’

Eloise shrugged, smiling. ‘I have absolutely no idea, and that in itself is so exciting I could—I could hug myself.’

Which gave him the most absurd desire to hug her instead. It was because she might just be the perfect solution to his problem, Alexander told himself. Daniel had done him a very great favour in making this introduction. He checked his watch, then checked the clock on the mantel in astonishment. ‘I can’t believe how long we’ve been sitting here.’

‘Too long? Must you get back to London?’

‘Not a bit of it. I noticed a passable inn in the village where I can spend the night, if necessary.’ He got to his feet. ‘The only thing I’m worried about is whether it will rain, because I’m hoping that we can continue our discussions in the fresh air. That is, if you think there is merit in continuing our discussion?’

Eloise allowed him to help her up. ‘I think we have established that we both see merit in it.’ She smiled. ‘A good deal of merit.’

* * *

The sky, which had been overcast when Alexander arrived at Elmswood Manor, had cleared, and now the sun was shining brightly and with some warmth.

‘Lovely,’ Eloise said, standing on the top step, tilting back her head and closing her eyes.

Lovely was the very word Alexander, looking at her, would have chosen too.

‘Isn’t it a beautiful day?’ She smiled at him. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother fetching a pelisse. Shall we?’

She tripped down the stairs on to the drive. Her gown fluttered in the light breeze, giving him a tantalising outline of long legs, a shapely bottom. She was not one of those willowy creatures who survived on air and water, and who were always, not surprisingly, having fainting fits. Eloise was more earthy, more real, the kind of woman who would, if she must faint, do so into a convenient chair rather than hope that some passing beau would catch her.

She was gazing up at the house, frowning, as he joined her, and he looked up automatically to see what had piqued her interest, catching a glimpse of two female faces at a window. ‘Your sisters resuming their spying mission, I presume.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

Alexander swept into an elaborate courtly bow, making Eloise giggle. One of the watching sisters had the presence of mind to drop a curtsy before dragging the other out of sight. He turned away. ‘Which direction shall we take?’

‘This way. There is a walled garden quite out of sight of the house.’

He followed her, feeling slightly dazed, as if he had unexpectedly won a prize, and he wasn’t at all sure that he deserved it. Eloise’s hair was the colour of polished bronze in the daylight. Her eyes were hazel, wide-spaced under winged brows. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. It made her tawny beauty less flawless and therefore more interesting. There was a determined tilt to her chin that didn’t surprise him, now he knew her a little better, but her lips, full, sensuous, quite belied her claim to a cold nature. In fact, he knew, for he had witnessed it, that she was compassionate, and he had overwhelming evidence of her love for her sisters. It was not love which repelled her, but passion, and what little she’d told him of her parents’ marriage made her feelings entirely understandable. It should be a crime, the damage parents could do to their children.

Eloise did not trip along taking tiny steps, nor did she try to glide, but walked with a easy gait that he had to make only a small adjustment to match. Though the matter was far from settled, for the first time since he had made the decision to take a wife, Alexander didn’t feel utterly dejected. In fact, glancing at the surprising woman walking beside him, he felt—no, not elated, that was absurd, but he really couldn’t quite believe his luck.

The walled garden had been a crumbling ruin when Eloise and her sisters first arrived at Elmswood Manor, she informed him as they wandered around the perimeter. ‘It was my favourite place,’ she said, ‘I thought of it as my private domain, because back then the door was stuck fast and you could only get in by climbing over the wall.’

‘You must have been very adept at climbing. It’s at least fifteen feet.’

‘I told you, we grew up in the wilds of rural Ireland. There wasn’t much to do save climb hills and trees if you are not the sewing samplers sort, which I am not. I’ve always thought samplers such a waste of stitches which would be far better served making clothes.’

‘You are a needlewoman as well as a scaler of heights! Do you include gardening in your list of impressive attributes?’

‘Oh, no, that is Kate’s domain. This is her project, though all three of us helped her with the research—poring through the archives in the attics, to see what we could uncover regarding the history of the place. When Estelle found a map...’

He listened with half an ear as they completed their circuit of the garden. Her love for her sisters was genuine and profound, her affection for Lady Elmswood evident too. ‘Are you sure leaving here won’t be too much of a wrench?’ he asked, steering her towards a convenient bench.

‘It will be odd, but it will be good for us all in the long run. We can’t be together for ever, huddled up like hothouse flowers.’ She sat down, staring distractedly out at the gardens, biting her lip. ‘Alexander, I have no wish to embarrass either of us, but there is a topic of a delicate nature that I feel I must raise.’

He waited, for it was obvious from her expression that she was girding her loins.

‘I’ve told you that I am not—I told you that I would not consider a real marriage because that sort of—that aspect of marriage doesn’t—isn’t for me.’ Her cheeks were bright red, but she held his gaze steadfastly until he nodded. ‘But that doesn’t mean that you cannot—you might wish to find some comfort in someone else’s arms. I would not—’ She broke off, completely flustered. ‘Goodness, this is mortifying. Please, I beg you, forget what I said. Let us change the subject.’

He happily would, but unfortunately she was in the right of it. ‘It’s better we discuss it now, don’t you think, no matter how awkward it is?’

‘Awkward is rather an understatement.’

‘Then let me see if I can make it easier for you, now that you’ve been brave enough to bring it up.’ Though how to do so, Alexander puzzled. He ought to have anticipated this, but he hadn’t, principally because it was a facet of his life that had been a closed book for almost precisely two years. He couldn’t tell Eloise the truth, but he owed her a version of it.

‘There have been women in my life,’ he said. ‘though my affaires have always been extremely short-lived. I am by nature a loner, and have never wished for any more intimate arrangement.’

And, even if he had, it would have been contrary to every rule in the book. He’d known that, and yet to his eternal regret he’d allowed it to happen anyway, telling himself it didn’t matter because he didn’t care enough, succumbing to temptation because he was heartily sick of being alone in a foreign land. He’d taken comfort in her admittedly beguiling company. If only he had put an end to it sooner. Or better still, before it started. The entire episode had been a mistake. The biggest mistake he’d ever made. He’d learned the hard way that the rules he’d so cavalierly broken were there for good reason. The guilt he had carried with him ever since made his chest tighten. He would never risk a repeat. Never!

Perhaps now was not the time for subtlety, after all. ‘Love,’ Alexander said bluntly. ‘That is what I mean. I am not interested in love, I have never been in love, and have no ambition whatsoever to change that. Love is anathema to me.’

Eloise blinked at his fierce tone. ‘Well, you are preaching to the converted on that subject.’

‘As to the idea of my finding comfort in another’s arms—all I can say is that at the moment, I have absolutely no interest or intention to do so.’ Which was the truth, and not one he could imagine changing. Was it a life sentence? At this point, Alexander decided the question irrelevant. ‘Does that answer your question?’

‘Yes,’ Eloise said, though she looked unconvinced.

‘What is it?’

‘The thing is, I can’t help but wonder what your family and friends will think of your sudden and dramatic conversion to conjugal bliss, given that you so adamantly do not wish to be married. I expect that this cousin of yours, who stands to inherit all, will be counting the days now, until he lays his hands on a fortune.’

‘According to my lawyer, Raymond has been counting the days since Walter died, and for some months now has been borrowing heavily against his anticipated windfall. With only a few weeks to go until my birthday, he will think he is home and dry. He will get a very nasty surprise when he reads the notice of my nuptials.’

‘Will he have grounds to challenge your inheritance if he can prove that the marriage is one of convenience?’

‘Hardly, considering that half if not more of every marriage which has property at stake is arranged for the convenience of the families concerned. But I’ve been thinking, Eloise, about what you said.’

‘I’ve said a lot. One might argue that I’ve said too much. Which of my many utterances in particular has struck you?’

‘I should warn you, I have one of those minds which registers every word. Don’t say anything to me you’d rather I forgot.’

She laughed, mock horrified. ‘Now you tell me! Good grief, I shall have to wear one of those contraptions like a muzzle that they used to punish women who talked too much. What was it called?’

‘A scold’s bridle?’

‘That’s it.’

He burst out laughing. ‘What on earth will you say next! I am going to be hanging on your every word, not silencing you, if we are to persuade the world that we have fallen madly in love.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I think it would be best all round, if we had a—what do they call it?—a whirlwind romance.’

‘To have met and married in a matter of weeks is not so much a whirlwind as a tornado.’

Alexander grinned. ‘We’ll need to concoct a suitably credible story.’

‘We’ll need more than a story. Are you saying that we will have to pretend to have fallen in love?’

‘How difficult can it be, people do it all the time.’

‘You never have. I most certainly have not. Why would we do such a thing? You said that marriages of convenience...’

‘Are common, and they are, and I meant it when I said that my cousin would have no grounds to challenge our union, but I’d far rather he did not waste my time or my lawyer’s time by trying.’

‘And if he believed it a love match, you think he wouldn’t?’

‘I can’t be sure, but if everyone else believed us too—do you see?’

‘Yes, but...’

‘And then there was your remark about the world accusing you of being a gold-digger. I know it couldn’t be further from the truth, but—I’m sorry...’

‘I’m a nonentity from the sticks with no dowry,’ Eloise said wryly. ‘Of course it’s what they will think.’

‘So we must persuade them instead that we are genuinely in love.’

‘In love! I am not sure I would know where to begin. How does one stare in a besotted manner, for example?’

He studied her, smiling uncertainly at him, and found himself, wholly unexpectedly and entirely inappropriately, wanting to kiss her. Properly kiss her. Which would be a catastrophic mistake. Because he also wanted, very much wanted, Miss Eloise Brannagh to become his convenient wife.

‘I think,’ Alexander said, ‘that we can discount any besottedness.’ He took her hand, lifting it to his lips. ‘Small demonstrations of affection will suffice.’ He kissed her fingertips. ‘There will be shared glances, times when our eyes meet, when it will be obvious to everyone that we are counting the seconds until we are alone.’

‘I am not sure...’

He turned her hand over, kissing her palm, felt the sharp intake of her breath, the responding kick of excitement in his gut, and met her eyes. Her lips parted. Dear God, but he wanted to kiss her.

‘There will be other glances.’ He leaned closer, his voice low. ‘Glances that speak of pleasure recently shared, rather than pleasure hotly anticipated.’

‘I don’t know anything about such things.’

‘You don’t have to. It will be an act. You have an imagination, don’t you?’ He ran his fingers up her arm to rest on the warm skin at the nape of her neck. ‘Pretend, when you look at me, that we have been making love.’

‘But I don’t know how that would—what should I be feeling?’

‘Happy. Think of something that makes you happy.’

‘When a gown I’ve made turns out to be exactly as I’d imagined it?’

He bit back a laugh. ‘Think of something a little more—how did it feel when you climbed to the top of a tree as a girl?’

‘Exciting. Dizzying. A little bit frightening. I always wondered what it would be like to let go, as if I might fly.’

‘Imagine you are feeling that now.’

Eloise gazed at him wide-eyed. He could feel her breath on his face, see the quick rise and fall of her breasts beneath the neckline of her gown. She reached tentatively for him, resting her hand on his shoulder. ‘In the mornings, in the summer, when the sun is only just coming up, I like to walk on the grass, barefoot,’ she whispered. ‘It’s cool, and damp, but in the most delicious way that makes you want to curl your toes into the grass. Is that what you mean?’

‘It is perfect.’ So perfect that he could picture the bliss on her face, that he wished, absurdly, he was the grass under her feet.

‘Alexander, I’ve never even been kissed.’

He could have groaned aloud at the temptation. Instead, he forced himself to sit back, to lift her hand to his lips once more, to press the lightest of kisses to her wrist. And then to let her go. ‘There will be no need for real kissing. Absolutely no lovemaking. What we have discussed will be the extent of our performance. Do you think we can manage that?’

‘Do you think we can?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Alexander shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench.

‘Would you still think so if I had been as you imagined, fiercer, older and with spectacles?’

Would he? The chivalrous answer would be no. But hadn’t they agreed to be honest? ‘Luckily, I tried to avoid imagining you at all.’

‘For fear you wouldn’t be able to abide me? It’s fine, you can admit it,’ Eloise said with a rueful smile, ‘for I confess, that I was—I was steeling myself for the worst.’

‘And would you be here now, if I had lived down to your expectations?’

‘Would the vast sum I will earn compensate for a stoop or spectacles or bad breath?’ Eloise grimaced. ‘The truth is, when I saw you I was vastly relieved, but—well, we are being brutally honest, aren’t we? Then I will tell you that you could have been an Adonis, but if I had taken you in dislike, and felt I could not overcome my reservations, then I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.’ She smiled shyly. ‘The fact that you do resemble a Greek god—a fact that I am sure cannot come as a surprise to you—well, the female population at least will not find it too difficult to believe that I fell in love with your face and not your fortune. Not that I mean to imply that all females are so shallow as to fall in love only with handsome men, but...’

‘No, but I fear that the majority of men are indeed that shallow,’ Alexander interrupted wryly. ‘My cousin will find it much harder to question the validity of our marriage when he sets eyes on you.’

‘When you meet Phoebe and Estelle, you will realise why I am known as the clever sister.’

‘Clever and beautiful. I am fortunate indeed,’ Alexander said, thinking, as she blushed charmingly, that he was in fact beyond fortunate.

‘Clever enough to recognise that you have not answered my original question.’

‘I think we are all shallow creatures as far as first impressions go. I would like to think that I’d have overcome any reservations by getting to know you. I am certain that, having come to know you a little, I’d want to know more, and I can also say, as you did, that if I’d taken you in dislike, I would have put an end to the matter. But I am relieved—I can say now, hugely relieved—to discover that while your exterior is extremely attractive, it is what lies beneath that makes me think we will suit.’ He cast a worried look up at the sky. ‘We should get back inside, it looks like it’s threatening to rain.’

Eloise stood up. ‘Do you realise we’ve been talking all this while as if the decision has already been made?’

Alexander considered this. He felt odd. Not afraid, but it was that feeling he often had, at the culmination of a mission, when everything was finally coming together but there was still the danger that it could all go wrong, the thrill of the unknown. He felt as Eloise had described, perched at the top of a tree. ‘Have I been presumptive?’ he asked.

‘Do you really think our natures are complementary?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, surprising himself with his certainty. ‘I think—I really do think that we will suit very well. And you?’

Eloise bit her lip, frowning. Her smile dawned slowly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think—I think if opposites attract, then we are an excellent match.’

He took her hands in his. ‘Miss Brannagh, will you do me the honour of marrying me?’

‘Lord Fearnoch, I do believe I will.’

And then she smiled up at him. And Alexander gave in to the temptation to kiss her. Delightfully, and far too briefly, on the lips.