The box grew still around them. He hadn’t expected her to push back like this. This was a reaction he couldn’t understand. He was a much more favorable prospect than Baron Faversham, and even if he and Margaret enraged one another, becoming a duchess was an offer no woman in her right mind would refuse.
“What has given you that impression?” he asked.
Margaret snorted. Alexander couldn’t help but smile.
“The first time we met, you made perfectly clear that I was not a suitable option for courtship, let alone marriage,” she explained. “I have not become more suitable since then. No man who is thinking clearly would ask for my hand unless he felt he had no other choice. You will be taking on my father’s debts as your own, supporting my mother and sister for all of time... And let us say nothing of the fact that you and I do little but quarrel. You cannot sincerely wish to make a wife of me.”
“Does that matter to you? Marriages are forged out of convenience more often than not. And in what pertains to you specifically...” He studied her. “You are entirely acceptable.”
She raised her brows and scoffed. “Flatterer.”
He was exasperated. “Acceptable in so much as you have been born with sufficient beauty and wit to become a duchess. I do not ignore your flaws – this trouble with your father, for a start. But it does not concern me. The benefits of marrying you will outweigh the disadvantages. And there would be grave disadvantages for me. I have made up my mind on this matter. Make up yours so we may be done with it and move past this unpleasantness with the press.”
Margaret left him waiting a moment, fiddling with her hands. For the first time since she had entered the carriage, she lookedgenuinely frightened. The levity they had managed to foster had died in an instant.
“Before I give you my answer, I must know one thing.”
“Then ask it.”
“Once we are married, what would you expect from me? You said that this would be a marriage of convenience, but I am unsure what that implies.” Her brow furrowed. “I have heard rumors, Your Grace, about mistresses coming in and out of your London home.”
Now it was Alexander’s turn to leave her waiting. He was not a rake but had taken no vows of chastity either. His affairs had been far and few between, and in the last few years, there had been no mistresses to speak of. He wondered what she meant, until it dawned on him that she was referring to the women he and Ripley had interviewed. One of his staff must have gossiped about him with Margaret, making it more likely that a Somerstead Hall servant had gone to the press over anyone else.
“I can assure you that whatever you have heard is false. I have not taken a mistress in many years, and once we are married, I will never take another.” He tried to project himself into the future, imagining a lifetime with Margaret. “It remains to be seen how we will fare as man and wife, but I would treat my vows to you as the unbreakable, binding promises that they are. And I would expect the same of you. What more awaits us... I cannot say. That would largely depend on your own expectations. I would not touch you, for one, not unless...” He left the secondhalf of his sentence unspoken, hoping she would read between the lines.
Not unless you asked me to.
A blush crept up her neck, and she swallowed hard.
“Those are my terms, Miss Pembroke.”
He glanced out of the carriage window. They were approaching Grosvenor Square. He had asked the driver to circulate until they were done speaking, but Alexander had waited long enough. He tapped on the carriage wall again, signaling the driver to direct them to Margaret’s home. She seemed to understand what the gesture meant, rubbing her brow in thought.
By the time they circled to her house some five minutes later, she still hadn’t answered him.
“Miss Pembroke?” he asked as the carriage slowed to a stop.
Margaret glanced up, and the look in her eyes made him uncharacteristically nervous. Maybe Margaret had been wrong in her assessment. Therewasa part of him that wanted to marry her – and not just for the convenience.
“Your terms are more than fair, and you yourself are...” She paused, avoiding his gaze. “You are entirely acceptable to me,too. I would be a loon not to accept your proposal, Your Grace. So, yes. I will become your wife.”
Relief swept over him. Alexander finally relaxed, nodding at her answer. He felt a sudden tenderness for Margaret now that she was set to become his wife. Everything would be in order soon, thanks to her.
He could finally contact Isadore.
And yet the prospect of reuniting with my sister, while it was once my primary motivator, seems equally important to me now as ensuring Miss Pembroke’s safety.
“Then I will come inside with you and tell your mother the news,” Alexander said, shuffling across the bench as the driver came around for the door.
Margaret smiled. “I will ready my vinaigrette.”
After leaving the Pembroke home, Alexander returned to Langley House. The manor rumbled with conversation, indicating that Carlisle was in residence and was hosting friends from town.
Alexander found him in the game room, paused a moment to eavesdrop as Carlisle showed off a lion skull mount to his acquaintances, describing what seemed to be a trip to Indiahe had taken in his youth. When Alexander made his presence known, Carlisle set down his wine and approached, excusing himself from the group. They quickly occupied themselves with their game of billiards, allowing Alexander to slip out with his uncle.
“Drinking and billiards at this time of day,” Alexander said as they walked the corridor. “That’s rather unlike you. What are you hoping to obtain from them?”
Carlisle huffed and looked back down the corridor with disgust. “Is it that obvious? The men in there are from the Royal Society. We came down together from Bath and arrived at noon, while you were out. They are utter boors, the lot of them, but they are planning a scientific tour of The Levant next year to which I am hoping to secure an invitation.”
