Disappointment sank through her when he redirected the conversation away from his family.
“You told your sisters about me.” He didn’t react but for a slight nod.
“I did. Beatrice’s husband has great relations with Edinburgh merchants. She can be of help to you. And Addy’s very involved in women’s rights and supports efforts to organize vendors and such. She might be a useful connection for you, if you decide to move forward with your cordials.”
That would be useful, and helpful.
Then why was she disappointed with the explanation?Because you wanted him to tell his sisters about you for no other reason than because he could not help it.
“Yes, thank you.” They both lingered there until Evan seemed to snap out of it and pointed to a door on the side of the room.
“Let’s go to my study. We can talk there.”
The study was different than the other room. More elegant and masculine with its leather furniture and scent of tobacco. It was not filled with light and the smell of bacon or the remnants of dogs and babies. It was a room for serious conversation, and in a way Luz was glad he’d brought her there. They seated themselves across from each other on plush leather wing chairs. She felt like she was being swallowed by hers, while Evan seemed to cover every inch of the one he was perched on, lounging in it like a king on his throne.
“That’s for me?” he asked, pointing at the binder she was still clutching.
“Yes.” She handed the parcel to him and decided to just get it over with. “It’s an agreement I had a solicitor draft on my behalf.” He nodded, perusing the papers. “It would prevent you from having any claim on my inheritance, the house my father left me in Edinburgh, or any profits from my distillery or any future businesses.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. His beard was newly trimmed. It reminded her of the fastidiously landscaped gardens at Versailles. Not a whisker out of place. Her hands itched to touch it; that night at the tower it had surprised her how soft it felt under her hands. She could smell the oil he used on it from here, bay and allspice. Not scents she associated with Scotland or Paris—no, that was a fragrance of the tropics. She itched to know why Evan Sinclair had a predilection for it.
“Your terms seem reasonable,” he finally said, setting that steadfast leonine gaze on her.
“You agree to all my conditions?” Luz could not eliminate the suspicion from her voice, but Evan only smiled at her.
“As long as you agree to mine.”
There it was. She’d known he hadn’t been forthcoming of all he expected from her. At least he hadn’t waited until after they were married.
“I’m not giving you an heir.”
“Awhat?” He sounded genuinely flummoxed, eyes practically bulging out of his head. The reaction was so visceral she was grateful he had not been drinking anything or he would’ve sprayed her with it.
“Why on earth would you think I’d require ye give me a bairn?” Judging from how acute his brogue had become, he truly was surprised.
All right. She would not be expected to produce children, but the thought wasn’tthatabsurd.
“Why wouldn’t I surmise that you’d require an heir,Lord Darnick? It’s not as if your lot isn’t obsessed with lineage and passing on all your land and ill-gotten gains to the next generation.” She was suddenly annoyed, and a little hurt, that the thought of a child with her seemed so distasteful. Which was doubly irritating, given she absolutely did not want children with this man oranyone. She had one child to raise already, and that was all the responsibility she wanted when it came to progeny.
A muscle fluttered in his cheek as if he was clenching his teeth, but when he spoke he was perfectly placid.
“If there is one thing you don’t ever have to worry about, it is my desire to perpetuate anything having to do with my family’s lineage.” A shiver ran down her spine as she held his stony gaze. It was unsettling to have those eyes she now associated with warm, pleasurable things filled with such intense loathing.
“If you don’t require children, then what are your conditions?”
He surveyed her slowly, languorously, a sweeping glance over her eyes, a moment on her lips, slid down to her neck, then back up again.
“I would ask that you reside in my home when we arrive in Edinburgh. It will be better for both of us to maintain appearances. A couple of months should be sufficient.” He was sprawled on the wing chair now, thighs spread, chin resting on his hand as he looked at her from that hypnotizing, half-lidded gaze. A powerful, beautiful specimen, dangerous even in repose. “Once we arrive in Edinburgh, things will move quickly. We will be married by then, of course.”
The shock those words provoked. Flames roared to life inside her.
“We shall be married in Scotland.” She sounded breathless. She was more than that: this conversation had her flapping in the wind.
“It would take too long to do here. Getting the permission would take weeks. I have to be in Scotland before then, and you also have time constraints. Once we cross the border into Scotland, all you need to be is a resident. I live there and you own property,” he explained, then averted his eyes. He focused on something over her shoulder. “I thought we’d go to Braeburn and marry there. It’s a day of travel. Just a few hours from Edinburgh.”
“Why not just marry in Edinburgh?” she asked, and she saw the flutter in his cheek she now associated with Evan being asked to answer things he’d rather not.
“I thought it would be good for us to have a few days to get to know each other.”
