But he couldn’tpossiblybe serious! Who would choose an obscure country teacher to launch his high-spirited, high-bred sisters into society? The cream of society, at that.
And why Emm, of all people, a woman he’d met on a bare handful of occasions? Because she was here, under his nose? Because she’d given him no encouragement? Because he didn’t like to be crossed? Because he had to win?
She had no answers. Luckily a class of lively girls soon pulled her back to reality.
She didn’t stop for a minute all day, which helped put things at a distance. Finally, well after dinner, when the girls were all in bed, Emm finally got the chance to slip up to her room and think. She sat on her bed, pulling the thin, worn counterpane around her for warmth.
Whether it made sense to her or not, hehadasked her to marry him. The more she thought about it, the less he seemed like the kind of man who would joke about such a thing.Marriage.
She walked to her window and stared blindly out into the dark night.
All the usual duties of a wife.
She pressed cold, shaking hands to her cheeks. He was Lord Ashendon. Of course he would want an heir.
She hardly knew him. She would be placing her life—and body—in the hands of a man she’d met four times. And didn’t much like.
But whose face and body haunted her dreams.
His plan hadn’t changed, just the payment. He would probably want to marry Emm in quick order, place the girls in her hands and return to whatever drew him on the Continent.
Presumably he planned to impregnate her before he left. She wasn’t even going to think about that—oh, who was she fooling? She could think of very little else.
But he didn’t want Emm herself—how could he? He didn’t even know her, had shown no interest in who she was, where she’d come from or how she’d come to be working in the school she’d once attended as a pupil.
He didn’t care who she was. He just wanted someone on whom he could dump his problems and then leave. Someone who wouldn’t have any choice in the matter. A wife.
Oh, lord.
But oh, she would have security for life. And, God willing, a baby of her very own...
Rose and Lily would be her sisters-in-law, and Georgiana, the girl she hadn’t yet met, her niece by marriage. They’d have a London season together, a first for all four of them. She could ensure that the girls weren’t forced into marriage. She’d let them choose for themselves, and Emm would make sure the men they picked were worthy of her girls.
Her girls.Sisters, a niece and a child of her own. After all this time, a family.
She undressed swiftly and slipped into bed. The hot brick was waiting for her, thawing her frozen toes.Thank you, Milly.
She lay in bed, shivering with a combination of cold, excitement and apprehension. And prayed that he meant it.
Chapter Eleven
I... chose my wife as she did her wedding gown, not for a fine glossy surface, but such qualities as would wear well.
—OLIVER GOLDSMITH,THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD
“I’ve come for my answer.” Lord Ashendon stood in front of the fireplace, booted feet apart, hands linked behind his back, dominating the room. “Will you marry me?”
Emm’s throat was dry. “Yes, Lord Ashendon, I will marry you.”
“Excellent. I’ve instructed my lawyer to draw up the marriage settlements. I will want the business conducted as soon as possible...”
Emm stood there, shaking. She’d just agreed to marry Lord Ashendon. With one short sentence she’d changed her life, wholly and dramatically. She felt hollow inside, strangely bereft.
He kept talking, listing the things needing to be done.
She wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected his response to her acceptance of his proposal to be, but it wasn’t this, as if he’d ticked off an item on a list and was moving on to the next.
He appeared quite unmoved, as if her agreement were a foregone conclusion.
