He was, and in the most indirect way possible. He didn’t want to marry again, but at least this time, he was approaching it with a clear head. He was using her, and if she used him, well, it didn’t matter, because there were no feelings involved, no emotions. He wouldn’t have his heart broken again. His heart was safe this time. “I suppose Iamasking you to marry me.”
She blinked at him and reached for the wine again.
Rory watched her down the contents. “From your reaction, I take it your response is a no.”
She lowered the glass. “Am I allowed to say no?”
“Of course. I understand this puts you in an awkward position, but I wouldn’t sack you for refusing me this favor.”
“Favor?” She fumbled with the goblet, almost dropping it. “My lord, if you asked me to hold your hat, that is a favor. A marriage proposal is much more than afavor.”
“Don’t think of it as a marriage proposal,” he said, coming around the desk. “I’m asking you to become Frances’s mother. That’s the proposal.”
“But I have to marry you in order to do so.”
“Yes. It makes your governess position permanent. That’s a benefit, yes?”
Miss Brooking put a finger to the spot between her eyebrows and massaged. “I think the confusion results from the fact that we are not from the same class.”
Rory crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. “Isthere some confusion?”
“You see, your class sees marriage as a business arrangement, while my experience has been somewhat different. My parents married for love.”
“Yes, well, I tried marrying for love, and I don’t recommend it.”
Her gaze met his, and he wished he hadn’t spoken without thinking. Truth be told, her reaction was unnerving him. He’d thought she would jump at the chance to marry him. Genevieve was, in his eyes, still young and attractive, but she was old enough to be considered on the shelf. She couldn’t be holding out for other offers. Not to mention, marrying him would vastly improve her financial situation. Wasn’t marriage to the son of a duke what every governess wanted? He was offering her the chance to do the one thing he loathed—use him for her own advancement.
“My lord, if I might be honest with you?”
He nodded curtly.
“I hadn’t expected to ever marry. I’m not sure marriage is for me.”
Fascinating,Rory thought. He had never thought he might be in the position of having to persuade a woman to marry him. Yet might this be a ploy to make him think she didn’t want marriage when she really did? “Why is that?”
“I have been a governess for many years and lived with over half a dozen families, my lord. I have seen something of marriage.”
“And you don’t like what you’ve seen?”
“I don’t see the benefit for me, my lord. Right now I have my independence and control over my destiny. I can do what I like, go where I like, spend my income as I like. If I marry you, I become your property and give all of those rights away.”
“But you’d gain a daughter and financial security.” She frowned, but before she could present another objection, he said, “You’d also gain me. You’d be Lady Emory.” He narrowed his eyes, watching for a telltale reaction from her. Her expression didn’t change. She was a good actress. “In addition”—he stretched his legs out so his feet brushed the hem of her dress—“there might be more children. I take it you like children, yes?”
“Yes.” Suddenly, her eyes were huge in her pale face. “But no.”
“No?”
“I-I understood you meant a marriage of convenience.”
He shrugged. “You might call it that.”
“I assumed it would be a p-platonic marriage.”
“Hmm.” Rory gave the idea a moment to germinate. It died. “No.”
“No?”
“I’m not the sort of man who can resist temptation. If you were my wife, I’d want you in my bed.” And wasn’t that the part of this arrangement he didn’t want to admit to himself? He was tired of coquettes and nameless, faceless encounters in the dark. He wanted a wife to come home to. His mind jumped back to the way Miss Brooking had held Frances and whispered comforting words when she found her. Now, he was reaching for the stars. He would be fortunate to have a wife who didn’t turn away from him.
