Which she supposed it was. And didn’t that make her feel beggar maid to King Cophetua?
Tall, ridiculously handsome, the very figure of a romantic hero, he delivered his plans for their marriage as if he were briefing a troop of soldiers. “You are welcome, of course, tohave a member of your family examine the settlements document and negotiate any alterations before it is finalized.”
“I have no family,” Emm said. She wanted to hit him. An agreement to marry should not be taken so... sopractically.
Surely, at least there should be a kiss.
Which was ridiculous, she berated herself silently. Did she imagine Lord Ashendon had fallen in love with her after four brief meetings?
“Oh.” He considered that a moment, then continued, “I will go up to London tomorrow and obtain a special license. We shall be married in a week’s time.”
“A week’s time?”It came out almost as a squeak.
“Yes?” He looked at her as if she’d made some irrelevant interruption.
“I cannot possibly marry you in a week.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
Because it was too much of a rush, because she wasn’t ready to be married to a virtual stranger at the end of a week, because her head was still in a whirl of tangled thoughts and emotions. Because, because, because.
She was feeling more than a little agitated, so she walked to the window and looked out for a moment. The view was nothing like the one from her little attic room, but somehow it calmed her. “I will need a new dress.”
He looked at the dress she was wearing, grimaced slightly and nodded. “Very well. Buy one. Buy a dozen. Buy whatever you need. Have the bills sent to me at my aunt’s address. It won’t take a week, will it?”
“Probably not,” she conceded. If she was going to be his wife—Lady Ashendon! A countess!—she’d need more than one new dress, but she supposed she and the girls would have to buy all they needed in London. Bath had some good dressmakers, but they wouldn’t match up to the finest London could offer. And he would expect the finest.
“But I must also give Miss Mallard more notice than a week; she will have to find a replacement for me.”
“I will deal with Miss Mallard.”
“That you will not,” she said immediately, and when hegave her that look she was starting to become accustomed to, the one that suggested she was stepping out of line, she added, “Miss Mallard is entirely my business. You have no idea what I owe her, and I will not have you ordering her around.” And riding roughshod over her sensibilities.
“Ordering her around?”he echoed. “I donotorder ladies around.”
He seemed so genuinely insulted that she had to stifle a laugh. “No, of course you don’t,” she agreed. He had no idea of how he appeared to others. “Nevertheless, I will be the one who speaks to Miss Mallard.”
He clearly didn’t like it, but after a moment he gave a brusque nod. “Very well, but whatever she says, the wedding will take place at the end of the week. And if she cuts up stiff about your leaving, you may refer her to me.” It sounded like a threat.
“Why, what would you do?”
“Make financial compensation for the loss of your services, of course.” The gray eyes narrowed. “What did you think I’d do?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” It wasn’t so much how she feared he might treat Miss Mallard, it was that she didn’t want him completely taking over her life. He was like the tide, sweeping everything and everyone before him. She needed to be a rock and hang on to the small piece of independence she had left.
She glanced out of the window again and took several deep, calming breaths. “Why must the wedding take place so quickly? You realize it will cause a great deal of talk.”
“What does that matter? It’s nobody else’s business,” he said impatiently. “As to why it must be soon, I believe I informed you that I have urgent business to attend to.”
She sighed. “Yes, your ‘important government business.’”
“Precisely. So the sooner everything is arranged, the sooner I can leave. Now, have we covered everything? Make whatever arrangements you want for the wedding—order whatever you want and have the bills sent to me. I’ve booked the abbey for next—”
“You booked the abbey? Already? You must have beenvery sure of my answer.” And Bath Abbey, instead of St. Swithins, where the Mallard community normally attended! It would be very grand. She supposed an earl would expect to be married in the grandest place possible.
He looked a little self-conscious but said gruffly, “I like to be organized.”
“And if I’d refused you?”
