“I will enjoy managing Audley, but you need to own it.” She shifted closer.
Wide awake, he pulled back to stare at her. “Why?”
Green eyes stared back. “You want a seat in Commons.”
“Yes, but—”
“Audley has a seat, but only if someone votes for you.”
“I don’t see—”
“Rafe. There is only one landowner in this borough. Not a single shopkeeper has enough assets to qualify. So I’m it, but females can’t vote. The trust makes no provision for filling vacant seats.”
He shook his head. She was right. Without a male landowner to cast a ballot, the seat would be filled by Parliamentary appointment – of a Tory. But he could not take advantage of her newfound trust. “Think about it for a few days, sweetheart.”
“If you insist, but I won’t change my mind. I’d rather you handled the investments anyway. And I trust you.”
“As I trust you. Now and forever.”
“I’m glad. Now go to sleep.”
He pulled her against him, turning her so his shaft nestled against her buttocks and his hand cupped a breast. Her hair brushed his face, enveloping him in her scent.
How had he been so lucky? Fate was a mysterious force, sometimes rewarding the most appalling stupidity.
Many thanks to the wonderful members of the Beau Monde and the Regency loops who collectively know everything about the Regency period and selflessly share that information with others.
Copyright © 2004 by Susan Ann Pace
Originally published by Signet Regency (0451210956)
Electronically published in 2007 by Belgrave House
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.