Chapter Four #3
“No one in London will know, and that is all that matters,” he said brusquely. “Besides, I would rather marry an actress than an actual… I mean… Oh, blast.”
Miss Morgan was far too intelligent to miss that. The arm that had rested so pleasantly in his own was immediately withdrawn. “An actual what?”
“Don’t mind me. I talk nonsense all the time,” said Samuel helplessly, his stomach churning with embarrassment at the slip. “In fact, just the other day, I—”
“No, you were going to say that it was better to marry me, an actress who no one cares about, than an actual lady from Society. Weren’t you?” Miss Morgan asked with painful accuracy. “As though I am not an actual lady? Was that not what you were going to say?”
Samuel swallowed.
Well, yes, he would have said in different circumstances.
After all, surely, she could see that he could not sully a debutante or a Society lady with an annulled marriage?
He would never hear the end of it from her family!
And he would have to marry a lady among the ton someday, he supposed. Best not to make enemies.
But a woman like Miss Morgan, someone with no family, no prospects, who would eagerly take the money and leave…
A Miss Morgan who was still glaring with a sharp expression.
Samuel’s shoulders slumped. “Yes. Yes, I was going to say that.”
For a moment, her ire seemed to increase in temperature, her foot tapping and her inhalation becoming deep. Then the feeling faded, as though it had never been there. “Thank you.”
He had most definitely heard that wrong. They stepped off the beach and back onto the pavement. The bustle of Brighton had returned, all rumbling carriages and muffled conversations and shouting hawkers. “I beg your pardon?”
Miss Morgan grinned, though there was no mirth in such an expression. “You told me the truth, even though it embarrassed you. Good. I need honesty for this to work, Samuel.”
His spirits lifted. Yes. “So you agree?”
“I will…think about it,” she said evasively.
It was not in Samuel’s nature to be demanding—at least, he did not think so—and therefore, it was far beyond his own comfort to speak as he must do.
“I am sorry, Miss Morgan, but that will not do,” he said quietly, holding on to her elbow to prevent her from continuing to walk. She looked up with confusion. “I need to be with the solicitors in just a few days.”
“But I had hoped for a week to decide if—”
“No.” Samuel swallowed. “This is not an ultimatum because I gain pleasure in pressuring you, Miss Morgan, but in less than a week, the scheme itself will be immaterial. Useless. Defunct.”
Irritation flared in her gaze. “I know what immaterial means.”
He winced. “Ye-Yes, I believe you do.” Was it just him, or had he suddenly stuttered like his mother would have? “Let me be plain. You appreciate honesty, and there are two more things you need to know that you have no reason to understand as of yet. Firstly: my father is alive and well.”
She tilted her head. “But you are the marquess? Is your father a duke?”
“No, my uncle is—was. My cousin, his eldest son, is now the duke. We are the Chances, and you’ll find we do things a little differently than most. My uncle and father have stepped down from their titles prematurely so that they might enjoy a retirement of sorts.
We’ve been calling them the ‘dowager duke’ and ‘dowager marquess’ respectively. ”
“I see.” Miss Morgan nodded slowly, very slowly, as if she did not quite see. Perhaps she didn’t. He’d have to explain at some point about how he had two more uncles with titles and how that family estate split had been quite odd at the time it had happened as well.
“Secondly, my father and mother and siblings are quite eager to meet you. I told them… Well, I can’t even rightly explain why, perhaps to fend off any suggestions of a rushed ton marriage, but I told them I was already wed days ago.
Implying the marriage had taken place at least a few weeks prior.
So we—that is, my year-long wife and I—would have to come up with a story about how we met and married during one of the trips I took without any of them present.
And where she’s been since then. And why I’ve kept it all secret. ”
“Hmm, interesting,” said Miss Morgan, a bounce in her step now. “I suppose I’m used to that. When inhabiting a role, I like to know the character’s background. Every detail. Even if it never comes up during the performance.”
Samuel wanted to keep laying out his terms, but he had to pause to smile at that.
She was perfect for this role. “I have applied for the special license and a friend of mine is close to the archbishop. It should be here in a day, on a fast rider,” Samuel said hurriedly, keeping his voice low, as if they could be overheard.
Not, he told himself confidently, so that Miss Morgan will have to step closer to me. Not at all. That is just a convenient consequence.
“‘A day’?” Miss Morgan breathed.
“I will need your answer tomorrow,” said Samuel, tension cracking up his jaw as he spoke.
“Or this whole plan will be for naught. I will have to admit to my parents that I have lied about the existence of a wife, and the whole fortune will go to a man who is most unpleasant and I am sure will use the funds for nefarious deeds.”
Miss Morgan inhaled slowly. “‘Nefarious deeds’?”
“Indeed.”
She looked down and so did he. The shell was still in her hands, being turned around and around.
“Tomorrow, then.”
The words were so faint, Samuel almost did not catch them. “I beg your pardon?”
“Tomorrow.” Miss Morgan looked up, and her smile was wistful. “I will give you your answer tomorrow.”