What A Gentleman Wants (12 page)

“Stay.” He raised one hand to stay her, his keen gaze never wavering. “Show him in, Harper.” The butler bowed out of the room, and Hannah felt a rush of embarrassing color to her face. “Well?”

The disdain in his question made her want to flinch. And he hadn’t even met Pa yet! What could Pa possibly want? Not that it mattered; his presence could only make things worse. “It really would be much better if I saw him, alone,” she tried again. “No doubt he’s come to bring me news of home, or… or…”

“News? Does your little hamlet produce such news in a se’nnight that your father must ride to London to tell you at once? It’s a long journey.” His voice had sharpened again.

“Well, I shall find out,” she said, edging toward the door. Perhaps if she could head Pa off, in the hallway…

Too late. “Mr. Braden, sir,” announced Harper, standing aside as her father clumped into the room. With another faint groan of hinges, the door closed behind him, and the room was silent.

Although not tall, her father was burly, with wide shoulders and thick limbs. Now he stood in the duke’s elegant study, looking for all the world as though he’d come straight from his fields, in worn, rough clothing and dirty boots. Or from the pub, unless Hannah’s nose deceived her. The contrast between the tall, aristocratic duke and her tavern-brawling father couldn’t be harsher, even before her father spoke.

“I reckon you ‘ave an apology fer me,” he said, as if determined to offend. Hannah closed her eyes, mortified by association.

“On what grounds?” The duke’s voice was ice-cold.

“On grounds yer a duke.” She could feel the duke’s eyes boring into her, so Hannah opened hers, caught between wanting to apologize for her father’s rudeness and wanting to just bundle him out of the room before he could make things worse. No matter how much the duke’s pride could use a little trimming, she didn’t think a scolding from her father would do it.

Before she could say anything, though, her father went on. “I suppose it would ha‘ been too much to expect to hear that title when you was courtin’ my daughter. Lettin‘ everyone think you were just a gen-tleman with empty pockets musta been a real joke to you. Well, I’m come to let you know I don’t think it’s funny, and you best be ready to fix things.”

“Pa!” gasped Hannah. Clearly he didn’t recognize that the duke was not David. They did look very much alike, but Hannah could easily see the distinct differences. Her father was insulting a man he had never met

“What, pray, would setting things right entail?”

The calm set of his face belying the menace in the duke’s words.

“You didn’t ask proper permission to marry her.”

The duke lifted one shoulder. “A bit late to raise that objection.”

“She’s still my daughter.” Pa raised his chin. “You never made a settlement on her.” Hannah felt sick to her stomach as she realized why her father had come to London. When she had decided to marry David, his main reaction had been relief that he wouldn’t have to feed and house her and Molly. But now he had discovered that she was allegedly married to a wealthy man. Hannah lunged forward and caught her father’s arm.

“That’s none of your concern!” she whispered furiously. “Jamie worked it all out—”

“Jamie did a poor job,” he snapped. “Men like him know it costs to take a wife, and I don’t like being cheated.”

“Cheated! How can—?”

“Girl, go on back to your women’s things,” he interrupted. “I’ve got business here with your husband.”

“But, Pa—”

“Go on now. Can’t you see you’re not needed?” He shook off her hand and turned his back on her in dismissal.

For one second, her feelings registered on her face. Marcus felt an unexpected stab of pity for her; he had seen that look before, a child’s realization that his father didn’t want him. He couldn’t stop the instinctive resentment of a man who treated his child that way. “Yes, my dear, you may leave us,” he said, forcing a tight smile. “I wouldn’t wish to bore you.”

She started, looking at him with a searching intensity that surprised him. “No,” she said in a similarly strained tone. “I wouldn’t wish to interrupt.” She turned and left, closing the door behind her. Marcus turned his attention back to the rawboned farmer facing him, no longer under any constraint.

“Precisely how much did you expect to wring from me?” He took his seat, without inviting his visitor to do the same, and sipped his coffee, without offering to ring for more. He didn’t want to see this man, and certainly wasn’t going to pay him. He didn’t know what had happened between Braden and David, but Braden obviously thought he
was
David, and Marcus always had a very hard time forgiving people that mistake.

“I thought a thousand pounds would be a fair price for a wife.” The older man’s flinty gaze didn’t waver. Marcus nearly laughed. A thousand pounds was a pittance. He’d come all the way to London just for that?

“Why should I pay anything?” Marcus asked, the corner of his mouth lifting. Really, this wasn’t even a contest. “She wasn’t living with you, providing any sort of assistance to your household. If anything, I believe her marriage spared you the expense of supporting her.”

“That matters naught,” growled Braden. “She’s my daughter. I got nothing the first time, on account o‘ she wed the damn vicar. Daughters ain’t worth much exceptin’ when they marry, and she done fine this time. A thousand pounds I’ll have from you.”

“No.” Marcus almost smiled as the man bristled visibly.

“I know my rights—”

“Your rights?” Marcus came to his feet again, leaning over his desk to emphasize his words. “Marriage settlements are concluded by mutual agreement before the wedding takes place. After that time, she belongs to me. Any right you might have had to request a settle-ment expired the day she wed, and any attempt you make to interfere with my wife will result in grievous consequences for you.” He paused to let this sink in.

“I see no reason to give you a thousand pounds now when you didn’t see the need to ask for it before.”

“You never said you was a bloody duke before,” Braden snarled, his beefy hands in fists.

Marcus’s smile was as thin as the blade of a knife. “How careless of me.” He pulled the bell.

Braden ground his teeth. “Arrogant nob,” he said bitterly. “You take my girl from her home and won’t even do your duty by her family.” Harper glided into the room.

“Harper, see Mr. Braden out.” Marcus turned his attention to the papers on his desk. Braden nearly howled with rage as Harper waited for him.

“I’m seeing my girl again! She’ll do what’s right.”

“Harper, see Mr. Braden out,” repeated Marcus, emphasizing the last word. “Good day, sir.”

With another fierce look, Braden left, and Marcus sat staring at the papers in front of him. He poured more coffee from the silver pot and sipped it. Then he turned in his chair and regarded the window behind his desk. He frowned. The latch should have been closed, but it wasn’t. He got up and closed it, then stood regarding the work still spread on his desk. He rang for Harper again.

“Where is the duchess?” He hadn’t presented her to his staff as such, but after the scene this morning, there could hardly be a soul in his household who didn’t think of her that way. Obviously he would have to encourage that, if he wanted the charade to last.

“Madam has gone to the garden, I believe,” murmured Harper.

Marcus sighed and went to find her, arguing with himself every step of the way. It was none of his business if her own father hurt her feelings. She could have sent for the man to come, and staged the whole scene. She could be the one who wanted the thousand pounds. It was just that damned wounded look in her eyes that bothered him. It made him think of David, who had been cut to the quick every time dieir father had brushed him aside as useless and unneeded.

She was sitting on a stone bench, her back rigid, her eyes fixed straight ahead. He came to a stop beside her.

“You have a beautiful garden,” she said after a moment. Marcus glanced around.

“Yes.” She nodded without looking at him. He sat on the other end of the bench.

“Whatever you paid him, I will pay it back.” Her words were so soft, he barely heard them.

“What makes you uünk I paid him?”

Her hands were clenched, white-knuckled, in her lap. “I know he came to ask for money.”

“And just because he asked, I would give it?”

She still didn’t look at him; he wasn’t even sure she had blinked. “I know you want everyone to think we are married.”

“I fail to see how paying a man I have never met will accomplish that” Her eyelids dropped, and she sighed.

“He will cause trouble if you don’t.”

“I doubt it.” She just shook her head, eyes still closed. A bee buzzed around her hair, but she didn’t seem to notice. He let his gaze drift over the garden around them, realizing he hadn’t been out here once this spring. The gardener had planted roses where the lilacs used to be. Or had the roses always been there? “I expressed to him how upset I would be if anyone were to interfere with my wife. He shall sorely regret it if he causes trouble.”

“He’s my father.” It was more apology than protest.

“And you, to all appearances, are my wife.” Marcus didn’t bother to hide the rather callous emphasis on the possessive. “There are benefits to that, and you might as well take this as one.” She said nothing and didn’t move, but she wasn’t crying. He crossed his arms, watching her from the corner of his eye.

Marcus was accustomed to getting what he wanted from people just through the force of his position and name, resorting to intimidation only when necessary. It worked on people of rank, who wanted something from him, or at least feared what he could do to them. This woman, though, had the whip hand over him in that he needed her cooperation to keep David’s lies secret. Any time she took it into her head to do it, she could ruin everything.

He would have to deal differently with her, he realized. He took another careful look at her, from her simple knot of hair to her plain dress. What would appeal to a country vicar’s widow? “We haven’t settled things between us,” he said abruptly. “In light of this afternoon’s visit, it is time we did.”

Hannah turned warily. No matter how much she told herself she didn’t care if the duke were offended or insulted, she did care that her father’s words and actions reflected on her, and she hated it that he still could hurt her. Surely by now she would be used to the fact that she was only a poor excuse for a son to him. She tried to focus on what the duke had said. “Settled things?”

“Your… compensation.” She sighed, her head beginning to ache. What a wretched mess this was becoming, first pretending to be married to a man she had never met, lying to a mother and sister-in-law she would have dearly loved to have, and now knowing her father thought she had somehow cheated him.

“I don’t want your money.” He put up one hand, his gaze trained on the opposite side of the garden.

“You deserve something in return for your assistance. Hear me before you refuse.” Hannah nodded wearily, wishing she were still in her own cottage and subject only to her own conscience. “My desire to conceal David’s actions remains unchanged. I cannot do it without your help, though, and I have been remiss in not making clear how grateful I will be for that help. Your father, I believe, was to have been your support, had David not made his offer.” He turned those dark, penetrating eyes on her. She nodded again, somehow just knowing that he already knew that for a fact He nodded curtly. “Then I offer you independence. A country manor, or cottage, whichever you prefer, plus housekeeping funds. I would not wish to insult you by forcing a large amount on you”— a mocking smile bent his mouth—“but it will be sufficient for your needs. Invested wisely, you should never need rely on anyone again.”

“That’s very generous,” she murmured, her temples throbbing.

“In addition you may keep any clothing and other gifts Rosalind and Celia give to you or to your daughter. The cost shall be none of your concern; if there is anything to question, I shall discuss it with Rosalind directly.” Hannah said nothing. She just wanted to go home, but where was home? She remembered then the small property David had deeded to Jamie.

“David deeded a country property to my brother, as a sort of marriage settlement,” she said. “If that were in fact his to give, I shall live there.”

“Ah, David’s hunting lodge. It was his, and is yours, if you want it. I warn you that David never kept it in the best condition, and if I recall correctly it is a small, primitive shelter.” Hannah thought her own dear vicarage would seem small and primitive to this man, but she hadn’t made the time to go see David’s property, so she ought to take heed of the warning. It was hardly in his interest to give her a house she didn’t need, after all, unless… If he still owned the house, she would be subject to his whim and fancy.

“Had we actually contracted to marry, I would have provided a dower estate,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts. “You shall have ownership of the house for my lifetime, and I shall name you the inheritor of it, for your daughter.”

“And what must I do?” Her will to fight was gone. Everything and everyone was against her. For the first time, Hannah fervently wished she had left David Reece lying under the blueberry bush.

“Display a reasonable appearance of marital contentment. I don’t care how you spend your time, so long as you are ready to attend such society affairs as Rosalind or I would normally attend. I have a great deal of work most of the time, and won’t make great demands on you. Most marriages are distant, and ours need not seem any different.” He paused, his gaze sharpening. “The only thing you cannot reveal is the true nature of our relationship. This includes letting Rosalind think you share my bed, or have in the past”

She had no other choice. No good one, anyway. “How long?” she heard herself ask.

He shrugged. “A month, two at most. The Season will end then, and Rosalind and Celia will return to Ainsley Park. You may keep in contact with them if you like, but only so long as you never reveal the truth.”

“And what about you?” she asked, trying to think through the consequences of this decision better than when she had decided to marry David. If she could never reveal the truth, she would never be completely free of his control. Even estranged, everyone would think she was still the duchess, and therefore still the duke’s to do with as he wished. “What contact will I have with you?”