Love With the Proper Husband (7 page)

“Ah, but you soon will have. As the Countess of Pennington, you will have no end of social obligations and responsibilities, and through them all, your every move will be watched and remarked upon.” He picked up the figurine of an ugly pug dog and studied it. “In the beginning, of course, there will be a great deal of curiosity about you for the very reasons you have mentioned: in spite of your parentage, you are a virtual unknown. Friend and foe alike will be alert for any hint of impropriety, any modicum of inappropriate behavior.”

She stared for a moment, then laughed in spite of herself. “Simply as a point of information, you should know my behavior is always impeccably proper. I pride myself on it. However, if you are trying to further your suit, this is not the way to do it. And it scarcely seems worth the effort, especially as I have no desire for position or—”

“What of family?” He looked at her sharply. “Do you not want family of your own? A husband and children?”

The sister she never knew and the nieces she’d never met immediately came to mind, and she pushed the thought firmly aside. She had not yet decided what, if anything, she should do in their regard, and as for children in general…“I am not particularly enamored of children, nor do they seem especially fond of me.”

“Well, we do not have to have more than a handful,” he said blithely. “In truth, two will be sufficient, both male, of course.”

“Of course.” She should have expected as much. In this he was no different from any other man with a title. “And no doubt they would be as stubborn as their father.” She crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. “I have turned down your ever so gracious proposal. An offer that absolved you of any further responsibility, as even the most stalwart advocate of arcane principles of honor would agree, yet you persist in believing a marriage between us is possible.”

“Not merely possible”—he flashed her a knowing grin—“but inevitable.”

“Nothing is inevitable, my lord, beyond the rise and set of the sun, the change of seasons, and other attributes of nature.”

“And what makes you think that you and I are not as inevitable as nature? That we are not as fated to spend our lives together as the stars are fated to light the night sky. Or as the day is destined to follow the dawn?” His words were as offhand as if he were speaking of nothing of any consequence, but there was an intriguing gleam in his eye.

“I would scarcely call a plot hatched by our fathers to ensure the continuation of our—or more specifically
your
—family line to be fate.” Still, it was a surprisingly lovely idea, the possibility that he and she could be destined for each other. Lovely and completely farfetched.

“Really? You do not think the fact that you quite literally fell into my arms before we even knew of this arrangement to be an indication of destiny?”

“Oh, that is good, my lord.” She applauded with polite sarcasm. “Excellent strategy. Taking what is essentially no more personal than a business arrangement between misguided fathers and molding it into something mysterious and romantic. How did it go again? Ah yes.” She rested the back of her hand against her forehead and adopted a dramatic tone. “My dear Miss Townsend, we are fated to be together. Our destiny is written in the stars. It is…inevitable.” She straightened. “Well done indeed.”

Thank you,” he said modestly. “I thought it was quite good myself.”

“Still, I must point out I did not fall into your arms. You walked into me and nearly knocked me off my feet.”

“Knocked you off your feet?” He raised a knowing brow. “And does that not say fate to you?”

“It says only that you were not paying attention to where you were going. It is nothing more than mere coincidence that we both chose to visit Mr. Whiting on the same day at the same hour—”

“Some would say there is no such thing as mere coincidence.”

“—and chanced to cross each other’s path.”

“No such thing as chance.”

“That’s utter nonsense and you know it.” She shook her head. “Honestly, my lord, I do not know why you persist—”

“Why won’t you marry me?” he said abruptly.

“Surely that is obvious.”

“Not to me.”

“Then I shall add obtuse as well as stubborn to your list of character flaws. Very well.” She heaved a long suffering sigh and counted off the reasons on her fingers. “First—I don’t know you. Second—I resent having my future determined by men, especially men long in their graves. And third—I have no desire to wed.”

“Ever?” He raised a brow. “Or just not to me?”

“Both.” She braced herself. Mr. Whiting certainly showed no understanding of her desire to remain unmarried. She didn’t doubt Pennington would share the solicitor’s opinion. “If a woman is not interested in children—”

“And you are not interested in children?”

She hesitated and he pounced.

“Aha!” He smiled in a smug manner, and she added
infuriating
to the list. “All women want children. It is a facet of their nature.”

“Perhaps.” Gwen was willing to concede this particular point, as she had often wondered if her dislike of children had more to do with those she had had in her charge than any lack of maternal instincts on her part. Still, the desire to procreate had yet to stir within her, and she was not certain it ever would.

“Children aside, I do not see marriage as a desirable state for a woman.”

“Why on earth not?” His tone was indignant, as if her distaste for marriage was a personal insult. Impatience swept through her. “I scarcely need explain my reasoning to you.”

“As your intended, I believe I have a right to know,” he said in a lofty manner.

“What I
intend
toward you at the moment has nothing whatsoever to do with marriage but is indeed just as permanent.” She tried to keep her tone firm, but his persistence was as amusing as it was irritating. She had never matched wits with a gentleman before and it was remarkably stimulating. “Lord Pennington, the only true benefit of marriage to a woman is financial. I have no need of marriage as I have a modest income, nowhere near yours, I imagine, but sufficient for my needs.”

His gaze flicked over her gown. “Extremely modest it would appear.”

Any sense of amusement vanished. “I have just learned of my financial state and have not yet had the opportunity to put any of my funding to good use in the purchase of a suitable wardrobe.”

“That too is a relief.”

“Too?” She studied him carefully. “What do you mean,
too
?”

“Well, I simply meant…” He paused, obviously searching for the right words. He looked exceedingly uncomfortable, and she hadn’t so much as a twinge of sympathy for him.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“Come now, Miss Townsend, you know full well what I meant.” His gaze roamed over her once again. Entirely too intimate and speculative and approving. For a moment she had the most disconcerting feeling he saw her entirely without the benefit of clothing. “I was prepared for someone not the least bit attractive. Someone rather overbearing in appearance. You are a most pleasant surprise. I am extremely fond of red hair.”

She ignored the rush of heat to her cheeks. “As flattering as that is, my lord, it’s neither here nor there. Now then, we were speaking of the reasons why women choose to—”

“What of love, Miss Townsend?” His tone was mild but his gaze was intense. “Affection? The sort of emotion that keeps poets putting pen to paper. Surely you believe there are woman who marry for benefits far more esoteric than finances?”

“Certainly.” She raised her chin and met his gaze directly. “I simply think love, affection, emotion are ridiculous reasons to tie yourself to a man for the rest of your days. Marriage is a cage, and love is nothing more than a baited trap.”

“Really?” He studied her intently. “You have given this a great deal of thought, then?”

“Some.” She shrugged. It had long ago dawned on her that it wasn’t simply marriage that destroyed women’s lives but love. Love that made them follow a man to the ends of the earth or destroy their health in pursuit of a son or ignore infidelities by spouses who had sworn to love them forever and ignore as well the pain they wrought. “Enough to know I have no desire for it.”

“Then this is perfect.” He grinned. “You do not love me. I do not love you. Oh, admittedly I fully expect to experience a certain amount of lust toward my new wife. Toward you. Indeed, even now—”

“Stop it at once!” In spite of herself, she wanted to laugh. He was most amusing. “You are incorrigible. Do you never take no for an answer?”

“Never.” He moved toward her.

“What are you doing now?” She stepped back.

He stopped in front of her, a scant few inches away. His gaze slipped from her eyes to her lips then back, and she could have sworn he’d physically touched her. “As you are not interested in love or fortune I thought I should demonstrate the benefits of lust in a marriage.”

“Surely you do not intend to…to…” She swallowed hard and stared up at him. “Kiss me?”

“No, of course not,” he said softly. Once again his gaze lingered on her lips. “I had not even considered it.”

“You’re lying.”

“I most certainly am not,” he murmured, but she would have wagered her entire inheritance he was. “My dear Miss Townsend, when I intend to kiss you there will be no doubt in your mind.”

“There is none now.” She would not have thought it possible but his eyes were an even deeper green than before.

“Have you been kissed before?”

“Not willingly.”

“Oh?”

“I have had the attentions of men forced upon me on occasion,” she said before she could stop herself.

Concern crossed his face, and any ardor that might have crept up on her unexpectedly vanished.

“Does that bother you?” she said rather more sharply than she wished.

“It bothers me that any gentleman would force his attention upon an unwilling female. I can only hope you were not harmed.” Sincerity sounded in his voice, and she realized he was a rather nice man, all things considered. Still, he was not, nor would be ever be, her betrothed.

“Not at all. I learned precisely how to deal with unwanted attention.” She placed her palm squarely in the center of his chest and firmly pushed him away.

He grinned and stepped aside. “Surely there was more to it than that?”

“Of course.” She swept past him and crossed the room, putting a safe distance between them. Gwen marveled that he didn’t realize how very close she came to allowing him to kiss her, and worse, to kissing him back. She had never known such an impulse before and was not entirely sure how to deal with it now.

She reached the fireplace, then turned back to him. “However, it did not seem necessary at the moment. You strike me as the kind of gentleman who accepts that when a lady says no, no is what she means. You would be surprised how many gentlemen, who consider themselves honorable, have few qualms about disregarding that when it comes to women in their employ.”

“Men are disgusting beasts,” he said firmly.

She ignored the amusement in his eye. “Indeed they are.”

“However, there are those of us, exceptions to the disgusting beast rule, who would never force our attentions on an unwilling female.”

“Good.”

“In addition, there are those of us, again not in the disgusting beast category, who have yet to meet an unwilling female.”

She snorted in disdain. “Come now, my lord, you have never met a woman who did not particularly wish to kiss you?

“Never.” He shrugged casually.

“You are as arrogant as I thought when we first met.”

“And as charming, I hope.” He wagged his brows rakishly, and she choked back a laugh.

“However, you are mistaken in one thing, Miss Townsend.” He folded his arms over his chest. “In the matter of our marriage, you have said no over and over today, yet I do not, nor will I ever, accept it.”

“Why not?” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “You are as annoying as any child I’ve ever met and just as difficult to understand.”

She turned on her heel and stepped to the window, trying to sort out the contradictions that made up this man before her.

“I have given you a most graceful way out of this. No one could hold you at fault for not honoring your father’s promise. Lord knows you’ve tried. Admirably too, I might add. And it’s not as if you have anything to gain save honor and my dowry, although that’s scarcely worth mentioning to a man of your means.”

He cleared his throat. “Miss Townsend, there is something—”

She waved him silent. “I, on the other hand, would derive great benefit from this match. I would acquire a tidy personal fortune, not to mention sharing in your wealth.” An odd thought struck her, and she turned back to him. “Your finances are substantial, are they not?”

“They are,” he said carefully, “for the moment.”

“For the moment?” At once the truth slammed into her. “Good God, you’re penniless, aren’t you?

You need this marriage. My dowry and my pathetic little income.”

“A minute ago it was a tidy personal fortune.”

“A minute ago it didn’t matter.”

“Regardless, I am not broke.” He huffed and refused to meet her gaze. His voice was low. “Yet.”

“Yet?” For a long moment she stared at him. The truth was obvious, and she was appalled she hadn’t seen it before now. She chose her words with care. “I stand to inherit a fortune if we wed. How much do you get?”

The look on his face was confirmation. He resembled any one of her charges when caught doing something he shouldn’t. “I would not have put it so bluntly—”

“How much, my lord?”

“In truth, I don’t get anything besides a wife, of course. And the benefits of that are yet to be determined. I simply don’t lose what I have.” He blew a resigned breath. “If we do not marry, I forfeit my entire fortune.”

“I see,” she said slowly. His determination to marry her now made sense.

“Miss Townsend.” He moved toward her. “This is not my choice. I would gladly live in poverty for the rest of my days rather than force either of us into a marriage that is not to our liking.”

“I doubt that.” She huffed in disbelief. “I have been poor, and it’s not the least bit enjoyable.”