Arthur pondered, then nodded. "Given we're concealing wealth rather than the lack of it, and given it's in her own interests in the sense of the timing, I can see no reason to refuse. The only problem I foresee is the settlements. She'll see the figures when she signs."
"Indeed, but I would suggest that, with your agreement, there's no reason the figures she sees can't be percentages."
Arthur considered, then slowly nodded. "No reason at all we can't do it that way."
Arthur heard the front door shut behind Luc. Relaxing in his chair, he fixed his gaze on the clock on the mantelpiece. Less than a minute had elapsed when the door to the library opened and Louise entered, bright-eyed and eager.
"Well?" She came around the desk to perch on the edge, facing him. "What did Luc want?"
Arthur grinned. "Precisely what you told me he'd want. They've apparently set the date for next Wednesday, if we're willing."
"Wednesday?" Louise blinked. "Drat the girl — why didn't she mention that this morning?"
"It's possible Luc might not have wished to have his thunder stolen."
"Most men prefer to have the way paved."
"Not all men, and I wouldn't include Luc in that category."
Louise paused, then nodded. "Indeed. That's to his credit." She fixed her gaze on Arthur. "So everything's settled, all is in order, and you're satisfied he's the right man for Amelia?"
His gaze drifting to the door, Arthur smiled. "I have absolutely no reservations whatsoever."
Louise studied his smile, then narrowed her eyes. "What? There's something you're not telling me."
Arthur's gaze shifted to her face; his grin widened. "There's nothing you need know." Reaching out, he caught her by the waist and drew her onto his lap. "I'm just delighted that there's demonstrably more to what's between them than simple lust — and that's how it should be."
"More than just lust?" Louise looked into his eyes, her own gently smiling. "Are you sure?"
Arthur drew her lips to his. "You taught me well enough to recognize the signs — Luc's chin deep in love, and the intriguing thing is, he knows it."
On gaining the pavement, Luc checked his watch, then, somewhat grimly, set out for his next appointment. Grosvenor Square lay at the end of Upper Brook Street; he was admitted to the mansion midway along the north side by a majestic figure.
"Good morning, Webster."
"My lord." Webster bowed. "His Grace is expecting you. If you'll come this way."
Webster led him to Devil's study and opened the door. "Lord Calverton, Your Grace."
Luc walked in. Devil rose from a chair by the fireplace. Although they knew each other reasonably well, their acquaintance stemmed from their families' social closeness, from moving in the same circle. Devil, his brother and cousins — the six who'd formed the legendary group known as the Bar Cynster — were all older than Luc by several years.
As Luc joined him, Devil grinned. "I hope you've no objection to talking before my daughter?"
Shaking Devil's hand, Luc looked down at the moppet, dark curls jouncing as she bounced on the rug before the hearth, huge pale green eyes shifting from his face to her sire's and back again. Taking the wooden cube she was chewing from her mouth, Lady Louisa Cynster favored him with a huge smile.
Luc laughed. "No, not at all. I can see that she'll be discreet."
One of Devil's dark brows quirked; he resumed his seat, waving Luc to the chair opposite. "Will discretion be required?"
"In part, yes." Luc met Devil's gaze. "I've just come from Upper Brook Street. Arthur has consented to a match between myself and Amelia."
Devil inclined his head. "Congratulations."
"Thank you."
Luc hesitated; Devil prompted, "I take it that isn't why you're here?"
Luc met his gaze. "Not precisely. I came to request that neither you nor any other of Amelia's cousins mention to her just how wealthy I am."