“Indeed, we do,” Harry replied, following him into a room lined with bookshelves and filled with the scent of aged leather and brandy—a combination that was unsurprising under the circumstances.
The Earl indicated the chair across from his desk, and Harry took a seat, his posture growing more stiff.
“I trust your journey was pleasant, Your Grace,” the Earl began, moving to the sideboard, where an array of beautiful crystal decanters gleamed.
Harry watched as the man hesitated over a carafe filled with amber liquid before setting it back down and returning to his seat.
“I’m more accustomed to company later in the day. The tea will be here shortly,” the Earl said, fidgeting slightly. “But I imagine you’re here to discuss the dowry? And the jointure, of course?”
“I assure you, your daughter will be well taken care of. I’ve just come from my solicitors in town, and this is what I’m prepared to offer in terms of jointure.” Harry pulled a folded document from his pocket and slid it across the desk. He observed the Earl’s face pale as he read the terms.
Harry had been generous, ensuring Arabella’s future would be secure, even if their marriage was more of a business arrangement than anything else.
“I take it this will suffice?” he asked, his voice cool.
“Of course, very generous, indeed,” the Earl replied reluctantly. “I’ll have my solicitor review this and finalize the details. Now, regarding the dowry, as you know, times have been difficult, and…”
Harry almost rolled his eyes at the Earl’s predictable attempt to up-play his financial woes. His uncle might think him a fool, but he was not one by any means. He’d called on his solicitor after the ball and instructed him to look into the Earl of Worcester. Thus, he knew that while the estate was not doing as well as it ought to, given its holdings, it was by no means bankrupt.
He interrupted the Earl. “I’m aware of your situation, My Lord. However, I must insist on a dowry of £10,000. It’s a reasonable sum, considering Lady Arabella’s standing and the circumstances.”
The amount he requested was modest by his own standards, especially given his title. His solicitor had called him mad for demanding so little.
The Earl’s smile faltered. “£10,000, Your Grace? That is quite steep. Surely, given our desire to resolve this matter swiftly, you could accept a more modest sum? Perhaps £5,000?”
Harry’s irritation flared at the Earl’s blatant attempt to lowball him. “My Lord, £5,000 is insufficient. Your daughter is of noble birth, and despite your current financial difficulties, this match will significantly elevate your family’s status. Let’s not forgetthat I am, in fact, rescuing your family from certain ruin. If you wish to save money, that’s your choice, but the marriage will not proceed for anything less than £10,000.”
The Earl’s demeanor shifted, desperation seeping into his voice. “Perhaps £7,500 then? I could manage that with some effort. You must understand, Your Grace, our position is rather precarious.”
Harry’s eyes hardened. He had no intention of being swindled. “£10,000, My Lord. If you cannot meet this requirement, we have nothing further to discuss.”
This time, he stood up, ready to leave, his earlier threat now a promise.
“Very well, £10,000 it is,” the Earl conceded hastily, panic coloring his voice. “For Arabella’s sake, I will find a way. But please, do sit down.”
Harry felt a perverse sense of satisfaction at the sight of the Eatl’s anxiety.
“Once this is settled, I want the marriage to proceed as soon as possible. A special license, given the circumstances, would be best.”
Circumstances you have created, Lord Worcester.
“Naturally,” Harry replied instead, resuming his seat.
Just then, Arabella appeared in the doorway, her footsteps light on the polished floor. She had evidently overheard the entire conversation, her face pale and her eyes wide with embarrassment.
“Arabella,” the Earl said, his voice softening as he turned to her. “We were just finalizing the agreement. Your future husband has very reasonable expectations. He will obtain a special license so you can marry next week. Isn’t that grand?”
“Wonderful,” she replied, her voice lacking enthusiasm, as though she’d been given a task rather than important news.
Harry rose, his expression softening as he bowed slightly. “Lady Arabella, I wished to speak with you privately before the wedding. There are matters we should discuss.”
Arabella nodded once. “Of course, Your Grace. I would appreciate that.”
The Earl clapped his hands together, beaming. “Excellent! I’ll leave you two to it. Just remember, everything will be splendid.”
With that, he exited the room, leaving Harry and Arabella alone.
“I heard the dowry being discussed,” she started, the words coming out clipped. “It seems quite profitable for you.”
