Lord Garson’s Bride (Dashing Widows 7) - Page 4

He set his jaw stubbornly. “Why not?”

“Because—”

Because there was no love. They both knew that. He went on before she could finish. “A marriage could solve quite a few problems for both of us. I’m thirty-four. It’s time I set up my nursery with a sensible, good-hearted woman, willing to make a useful life with me. From your point of view, please forgive me if I trespass on matters that aren’t my concern—”

“Which means you’re going to,” she said sharply. With every minute, she looked less downtrodden. She was sitting up so straight, her spine could have doubled as a ship’s mast.

He ignored her interruption and ventured closer. Would it help to take her hand? A glance at her face told him it wouldn’t. “It’s no secret that your father made some disastrous investments, and I suspect your portion isn’t what it was.”

That was why he’d asked about her plans, to check that he was right about the unappealing options available to her. She might intend to marry someone else. But she didn’t mention an attachment, and surely she would if there was one. It wasn’t very worthy, but he’d arrived, hoping she might choose to marry him to escape a bleak future.

Two bright spots of color marked her cheeks, and she glared at him as though she disliked him. “I have enough to live on.”

“As long as you retire to some backwater, or you swallow your pride and move in with Susan.”

“She’s my closest family.”

“She’s also very happy to take on an unpaid nursemaid.” Eight years older than Jane, Susan had always been a little cat with a sharp eye to the main chance. He’d never really taken to her. “Is that the best you can do?”

Jane swallowed and avoided his probing stare as he stood over her. “You’re…you’re very blunt, my lord.”

My lord? Hell, he really had upset her.

He sighed and retreated, cursing himself for a thoughtless bully. What in Hades was wrong with him? The world commended his perfect manners, yet here he was acting the complete boor. “I’m making a muddle of this.”

“Could you…could you sit down, so I don’t feel like you’re about to seize me by the scruff of the neck and give me a good shake?” Her voice trembled, as she fought to maintain her composure.

“Damn it, I meant to woo you, not harangue you,” he said ruefully, subsiding into his chair.

Straightaway she looked more at ease, and her bosom rose as she sucked air into her lungs. He couldn’t help noticing how very nicely she filled out that unenticing bodice. With difficulty, he dragged his eyes up to her face.

She gave a shaky laugh and smoothed her austere coiffure, not that it needed it. “And I haven’t even said no.”

“Imagine if you had,” he retorted, before he registered what she said. He leaned forward eagerly. “So you will marry me?”

The humor drained from her face, returning her to the wan shadow she’d been when he arrived. His gut tightened in protest at seeing her this beaten down. She looked so weary, he just wanted to pick her up and take her somewhere she’d never suffer again.

What the deuce? That was a more powerful reaction than he’d anticipated. He’d embarked on this course after coldly and calmly weighing his alternatives. Yet here with Jane, his confused feelings were making him stupid.

“Why do you want to marry me?” He heard the effort she made to keep her voice steady. He also noted she didn’t answer his question. Was that a good sign or a bad one?

He couldn’t tell, although he’d thought he knew her well. Damn it, that familiarity was one of the things that convinced him she’d make a fine wife. Yet looking into the face that he’d never considered anything remarkable, he recognized the presence of mystery.

“I told you.”

“Because we both offer a convenient solution to the other’s difficulties.”

When he heard the tartness lacing her soft voice, Garson hid a grimace. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He hadn’t handled his premier foray at all well, blast him. Was it too late to regroup? “It’s true. As I said before, I like you.”

His lukewarm declaration didn’t deserve to move her. And it quite clearly didn’t. “You’re a rich, attractive man with no obvious vices. You must have your pick of society’s unmarried ladies. Women younger than me who can give you babies, and who I’m sure you could come to like without too much trouble.”

He noticed that she, too, avoided the word “love.” But then, that was the issue that narrowed the list of candidates for his bride to one. Most women expected something stronger than friendship from their future husband.

“Jane, when I saw you at your father’s funeral, I thought you’d make me an ideal wife.” He was relieved to hear himself sounding calm and measured, the soul of logic. He had no idea what had come over him when he’d first proposed. He’d like to blame the ale, but it was an insipid brew. “I’m not a foolish boy anymore. Nor are you a silly girl. You’re a grown woman of good sense. I believe we could make an excellent life together. I pledge my respect and fidelity. You must remember that when I make a promise, I keep it.”

“I do remember.”

Encouraged, he went on. “Think of the advantages. You’ll be mistress of a great house. You’ll have money to do whatever you wish. It’s the life you were born for, not a hand-to-mouth existence as an indigent spinster in cramped lodgings a hundred miles from the fashionable world. Or would you rather be your sister’s dogsbody? You have a choice, Jane. Penury and isolation, or a full, purposeful life as my wife, and the mother of my children.”

Tags: Anna Campbell Dashing Widows Romance
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