Chapter 3 #2
“And we are to simply step into it?”
He heard the first real tremor then, small but unmistakable.
“I would do anything for them,” she continued fiercely.
“I believe that.” He truly did.
“But marrying you—” she broke off. “Is another matter entirely.”
“I am aware.”
“Are you?” Her voice sharpened again, perhaps because anger was easier to manage than fear.
“You speak as though the matter has already been settled. As though I am unreasonable for not accepting a future I did not know existed ten minutes ago. If I cannot accept being rushed into this, imagine how the girls feel?”
Hector leaned closer to her. “I do not think you unreasonable, but I do think you are smart and passionate.”
A sound came from her that might have been a gasp and a laugh.
She shook her head. “I need time to think.”
Hector leaned back against the couch. “You do not have time.”
The air changed again.
He knew before she answered that she would hear cruelty in the words.
Perhaps there is cruelty in them.
But he had seen what delay did. Delay allowed the children to be misplaced by organizations that had already failed them. Delay was the polite face of abandonment.
“I intend to request a special license immediately,” he said matter-of-factly.
“And if I refuse?” he could feel her glaring at him.
“Then I will take my nieces home without you.”
Miss Norish was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was lower. “That is cruel, Your Grace.”
“Call it what you must,” he said coldly.
She moved closer to him, and he faced her again as she looked directly at him. Hector wondered what she thought of him then.
“I can see that you care for them. At least we have that in common,” she whispered.
“Of course I care. They are my sister’s children.”
Her breath softened. They were on opposite sides of an impossible proposal, but between them were two children who had already lost too much. That was the only ground that mattered.
“They are expecting me tomorrow,” Miss Norish added softly.
He had anticipated many objections, but not this one.
“I told them I would come tomorrow. Will I be allowed to see them? Perhaps I could prepare them for you?” he heard her pleading tone, but sadly he could not agree with this visit.
“There will be no time.”
“But they will think I chose not to come.” Her voice tightened. “You do not understand. A promise to a child is not a small thing simply because the adult has more urgent business.”
His jaw set. “The license must be obtained, and arrangements have been made to pick them up today.”
“Is it not possible to make arrangements after my visit?” she pleaded.
“That is not practical, Miss Norish.”
“Neither is asking a woman you have just met to marry you, yet here we are.”
That might have amused him under other circumstances. Under these, it forced him to reconsider the line he had drawn.
“Please?” she begged. “I cannot disappoint them. I cannot disappoint Aurora.”
The name altered the room more than any argument had. His own plans pressed against the plea until he caved in. He let out a long, resigned sigh as he thought about it.
Perhaps seeing her with the girls before making her my duchess would be smarter.
“You may visit them tomorrow at the orphanage for one hour only,” he said sternly.
The relief in her silence was almost audible, and he could see her bright smile.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said as she beamed at him.
“My solicitor will ensure the children’s transport straight after your visit at eleven o’clock in the morning.
” His cold tone made her smile vanish instantly.
“Unfortunately, Miss Norish, I am a duke and have very little time for sentimentality. I suggest you follow my rules from now on so life will be much easier for you when you become my duchess.”
Her shoulders tensed again. She drew another breath; this one was unsteady, and he watched as her skin reddened.
“If I am even to consider your proposal, then perhaps I should establish some rules too.”
Hector hid his surprise at her challenge. “Proceed?”
She froze for a minute, considering her words before she spoke again. “I will not share a bed with you.”
He had thought himself prepared for bluntness, but her words caught him off guard.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, and I am allowing you an opportunity to phrase it less like a challenge.”
She gasped, and it was a delightful sound to hear. “It is not a challenge. It is a condition.”
He considered her rule.
“Are you truly asking a duke to give up the possibility of an heir?” He raised a brow at her.
“I am asking a man who proposed marriage for the sake of two little girls whether he meant what he said.” It was a clean hit.
Hector lowered his chin slightly.
The matter of an heir was not small. Men had built entire lives around less.
He was not indifferent to duty in that form.
But he had not come to Bendon House in pursuit of a wife in the ordinary sense, and he would not pretend otherwise merely because the consequence now stood before him with a steady voice, frightened courage and a beautiful countenance that intrigued him.
“And this is absolute?” he asked.
She nodded firmly. “Yes.”
“Very well.”
The swiftness of his answer seemed to unsettle her.
“Very well?” she repeated, and she almost sounded disappointed.
Hector nodded just as firmly as she did. “Yes, I agree with your rule, but I have one condition of my own.”
Her composure returned at once. “What is it?”
“You must care for the girls. That is the purpose of this arrangement. Their comfort, their health, and their security come first. I have a sort of reputation amongst young children, where I have been called a monster; you will help them get over that fear. Nothing else.” It was an order.
Poppy studied him then and imagined how he would look to a child. His eyes, height, and broadness made him seem monstrous, but as he spoke, that mirage slowly drifted away, leaving room for the man beneath.
“I have been doing so for quite some time,” she said smugly. “Longer than you. But truly, I understand.”
“I hope you do. Because if you have any foolish romantic ideas about this arrangement becoming something more, you should abandon them immediately.”
Silence followed before Miss Norish laughed loudly. She tried to contain it and failed, which made the sound far more revealing than any answer she might have given. Hector grimaced as he listened to the clumsy, tinkling sound.
“This is not a joking matter, Miss Norish,” he admonished her.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, though laughter still touched the edges of the words. “It is only that romance and Your Grace seem the most unlikely pair imaginable.”
Hector sat very still.
He ought to have been offended, but he was in awe of her honesty. It was refreshing to a man of his title. He found himself attending to the quiet after her laughter had died down, and she seemed to hold herself together after unraveling in her own mirth.
Besides, she is right.
“Keep your thoughts of me as such,” he said firmly.
“If that is what you wish for,” she replied drily.
“You understand,” he continued, “that I cannot offer you what another husband might, but I will provide for you. You will have the position and protection befitting my wife. And you will not be mistreated in my house.”
“But it would be loveless.” The sadness in her words struck him painfully.
There was a slight shift in her stillness, and he imagined that she must have dreamed of falling in love and getting married. Hector felt slightly guilty that he would be crushing that dream of hers.
“Yes, it would,” he said honestly.
She shifted uncomfortably before him.
“I do not require luxury,” she eventually said quietly.
“I did not offer you luxury; that comes with the title. I offered you safety and time with my nieces.” His tone was clipped.
This time, she did not answer him quickly. He turned his cane slightly beneath his palm as he prepared himself to get up and walk away from this conversation and distracting woman whose scent would stay with him until they met again.
“Should I take your silence as your acceptance?” he asked, and her breath caught again.
Hector heard the soft intake of breath, and he struggled to control his own breathing. There was something so mesmerizing about her that she affected him so. He desired to listen to her witty words and catch glimpses of her blushing skin.
Would she be even more distracting as his wife?
He watched her soft features shift as she dove deep into her thoughts. He would not coax her, and he would not soften the question into something she could slip around. Her answer had to be clear, for both their sakes.
A long moment passed before she spoke again, and Hector noticed that the tremor in her voice was completely gone.
“Yes, I will marry you,” she said.