Chapter Three #2
Mrs. Blackthorn stood back. “There then, you eat up, Miss Bromwich, and you’ll soon have roses back in your cheeks.”
“Thank you so much,” said Miss Bromwich softly. She had a lovely voice, melodious and restful. She was clearly a lady of respectable birth.
“Thank you, Mrs. Blackthorn,” he said, dismissing her. She left with a bobbed curtsy, and he watched in silence as Miss Bromwich devoured a whole plate of goodies. Sipping the tea, she sank back against the cushion with her eyes closed and sighed.
“That is so much better, thank you.”
He sat in the Holland-covered chair to her left and sipped his tea. “Would you care to tell me why you are starving, Miss Bromwich?” he asked quietly.
“I haven’t eaten for more than a week,” she said wearily. “That isn’t entirely true,” she corrected conscientiously. “I’ve had some food, but not enough.”
“Why?”
“My mother was trying to force me to accept a proposal of marriage,” she admitted reluctantly, looking at her fingers clasped in her lap.
“Good God, that’s medieval!”
She gave a short smile. “Yes, it is rather. Fortunately, your reply to my application arrived in time before I was forced to capitulate. Of course I didn’t realize it was from you.
I thought it must be from a lady, because you specified that you wanted a young, single female.
” She swallowed, her cheeks flushing. “If I’d known—”
“You wouldn’t have come,” he said flatly.
“I can’t imagine what you were thinking—”
“I was thinking, Miss Bromwich, that I wanted a wife.”
“A w—” She stopped, her pretty rosebud mouth falling open. “But good heavens, why?”
His lips twitched and he said mildly, “Will you let me explain?”
She nodded.
“I am an antiquities scholar,” he began.
“Yes, I know, quite a famous one—I recognized your name earlier. I’ve read several of your papers.”
He flushed, inordinately pleased by her words.
“I have received a commission from the Antiquaries Society to undertake the cataloguing of artifacts and dig sites in the southern and middle counties.”
“That was mentioned in the advertisement. It sounds most exciting!” she said with a smile and brightening of her eyes.
His heart gave a kind of leap at this sign of enthusiasm for the work.
“Yes! It is very exciting; I’m heartened that you think so.
” He stopped. He hadn’t thought the rest would be difficult to explain.
It was a business arrangement after all, but with her sitting there looking flushed and pretty and excited, he was suddenly tongue-tied and awkward.
A business arrangement was supposed to take the emotion out of it, but his heart was beating far too fast and his stomach churning.
He hadn’t bargained on her being pretty.
But surely, he would grow accustomed to that—her prettiness.
Once he got used to it, perhaps it wouldn’t bother him so.
He swallowed. “I’m not a social man! I don’t find it easy to talk to—talk to people.”
“I don’t either,” she said.
“I don’t like parties, and I can’t dance—”
“I don’t like dancing either!” She leaned forward, smiling. She was so pretty it almost stopped his tongue altogether.
“I despaired of ever finding a woman I could bear to be in the same room with, let alone”—he could feel himself going red as a beet, like he’d been out in the sun all day—“marry,” he finished doggedly.
“A friend of mine suggested I advertise for someone who might share my interests. So I did, and here you are.” He swallowed again and waited for her to get up and walk out, to run in terror from the madman who thought he could get a wife via advertisement. What was I thinking?
“I see,” she said slowly. “I don’t quite know what to say.” He peeked at her face. She didn’t appear to be terrified, and she hadn’t run—yet. “I was running away from a marriage proposal I didn’t want. I wasn’t expecting to run into one from a stranger.”
Heartened a little, he said hesitantly, “I was going to suggest that it be in name only initially, until we got used to each other. Or decided that we didn’t suit after all, in which case it could be annulled and no harm done.”
She gasped, and he watched her, worried he’d gone too far. She must think he was insane. He probably was, he thought gloomily. If she wasn’t prepared to run yet, she would once she got to know him a bit better. He was impossible. He knew it.
“That sounds like a perfect solution.”
“Really?” He couldn’t believe his ears. Raising his eyes to her face, he found she was smiling.
She nodded.
“Are you sure?” He bit his lower lip, best to make a clean breast of everything, so she knew what she was getting.
“I’m not an easy man to live with. I’m very set in my ways.
I like routine. I don’t like it being disrupted.
I have quite exacting standards, too, academically.
I will expect a very high quality of output from my secretary.
” And he added, conscientiously, “I am hopelessly insensitive. I’m not emotional.
In fact, I’m quite cold and lacking in affection.
I don’t do pretty speeches, and I don’t tolerate stupidity.
I’m quick tempered and frequently bellow at people if I’m not happy with them. ”
“Are you as bad as all that?”
“Worse,” he said hollowly. He realized he’d been fiddling with Kester’s ears while he talked and stopped.
“Look,” he said, leaning forward. “I’ll give you tonight to think about it.
We can spend the day going over the project, so you understand what’s involved.
And if you change your mind tomorrow morning, I’ll send you home in my carriage.
I won’t have you riding on the stagecoach, it’s not fitting.
By your speech and the quality of your clothes, you are clearly a lady.
” He wondered who her parents were and whether he should make an effort to get her to tell him.
Clearly, she didn’t want to return home.
If her mother was mistreating her like that, he didn’t blame her.
She flushed. “Very well. You’re most kind, but I won’t change my mind.”
“Don’t speak too soon,” he said, rising, his heart lighter than it had been in a while. “I will get Mrs. Blackthorn to make up a room for you. You would like to wash and change perhaps, before we begin?”
She nodded, rising. “Thank you.” She added shyly, “Would you introduce me to your dog?”
“Of course. This is Kester. Sit and give a paw, Kes.” Miss Bromwich bent toward him, and Kester bundled across to her, his plumy, red tail wagging, sat and offered a paw. She took the paw and petted an ear with her other hand.
“You are a gorgeous boy, aren’t you?” she cooed. Kester stared up at her adoringly and Deo’s heart did this odd little leap.
“How old is he?” she asked.
“Four. He’s just starting to grow out of the puppy phase. Irish Setters are slow to mature.” He glanced at the clock; it was after eleven. “He’s missed his walk. I normally take him at ten. In fact, I was heading out just as you arrived. I’d best take him now. I’ll see you in my study at twelve?”
She nodded and headed toward the door. He held it open for her and bellowed, “Chiddick?”
The butler appeared. “Find Mrs. Blackthorn and tell her to make a room ready for Miss Bromwich. She will be staying for tonight. She’ll need hot water to wash, that sort of thing.”
“Mrs. Blackthorn’s already prepared the green room, my lord. If you’ll follow me, Miss Bromwich?”
*
Left alone in the green room, Emily sank down on the bed, giddy with the events of the last hour.
She was being offered marriage to a man who shared her interests, her passion.
She had never thought such a thing was possible.
And she had the opportunity to work on an exciting project alongside him, to learn from him and hone her skills.
And he was offering her a trial marriage, nothing irrevocable, so that they could both walk away if it didn’t work.
This was too perfect for words. By the time the project was done, she would be twenty-one and able to claim her inheritance, her independence, so if the marriage didn’t work, she still didn’t need to go home.
She could forge her own destiny. I will never need to be subject to Mama’s bullying again.
And he was an earl, not as lofty a title as a marquess perhaps—or heir to a marquess, as the case may be—but still highly sought after.
Even her mother couldn’t object to that.
If only he had been the one proposing, she might not have refused.
Not that she really cared about his title.
She would rather be married to a plain mister who shared her passion than a duke who didn’t.
She had listened with some amusement to his listing of his faults.
If she believed him, he was a cold-hearted, unfeeling ogre with a foul temper and impossible standards.
But his behavior gave the lie to that. He had clearly been anxious for her comfort, and he blushed deliciously when he was embarrassed.
Neither of which argued for an unfeeling person.
And she could not have failed to notice him petting his dog’s ears or the look of blatant love he showered on the adorable canine.
A man incapable of affection? She didn’t think so.
And he was so big, and male! He made her feel—she groped for the description—petite, even feminine. And his intense attention, as if he really saw her, made her feel less invisible.
And even if he was a little gruff and bad tempered, she was used to that.
She had lived with Mama’s bad temper all her life.
And she sensed his was not due to badness of disposition, but might perhaps be a method of defense?
And his dog clearly adored him. If he were of a violent disposition, Kester would shy away from his touch, and he didn’t do that.
She got up to wash and change her clothes.
Refreshed, she ventured downstairs, wondering where his study was located.
She made her way back to the front entrance to ask the butler, Chiddick.
The man was most helpful and led her to a room at the back of the house overlooking a vast expanse of green lawn.
And look, I can see the ocean from here.
The house is right on the coast! She had never seen the sea before.
Her heart gave a yearning leap. She longed to explore.
The room was large and clearly doubled as a library because its walls were lined floor to ceiling with books! In addition to the huge desk beneath the window, there was a bank of glass cabinets in the middle of the room containing a collection of artifacts. Emily was in heaven.