“Has she had a fine education, perhaps, or experience in running a great house that would make up for her deficiencies in other areas? Is she a skilled hostess, who can organize a ball, a Venetian breakfast, or a dinner for fifty at a moment’s notice?”
He gritted his teeth. “You know she has not. But most new brides are unskilled in this area, too, and yet—”
“The difference is that most of them—andallthe gels on my list—have grown up assisting their mothers in the conducting of such events. They, at least, know how itshouldbe done.”
He set his jaw. “It doesn’t matter. Miss Woodford and I have—”
“This girl hasnoidea how to further your career. She will becompletelyout of her depth. For heaven’s sake, Nash, it will be a disaster for your career.”
Nash set his jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”
His aunt’s eyes almost threw sparks, they snapped so angrily. “Doesn’tmatter? Have you taken leave of your senses?”
He hadn’t planned to tell her so soon, had planned to let her learn it gradually, but there was no way around it now. He said with a casual air, “I may not remain in the diplomatic service.”
“What the devil do you mean?”
“I might take up, er, animal husbandry.”
“Animal husbandry?” she echoed with loathing.
“Yes, now I have an estate, there is no need for me to keep traveling. It’s very tedious moving from place to place all the time—”
“Tedious? You love it.”
“—so I’m considering settling down to run Uncle Jasper’s—that is, my estate. Breeding animals and . . . er, growing things.”
The lorgnette dropped. “You? A farmer? Pigs might fly!” She stared beadily at him. “So, it’s come to that, has it? In that case, there’s no alternative: you’ll have to buy the gel off.”
Nash stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me, buy her off. It’s the only thing to do—unless you’ve tumbled her already. In which case you might have to find her a husband.” She raised the lorgnette again. “Have you?”
“None of your damned business, Aunt. And I’ll be damned if I buy her off.” He thought about it and if he hadn’t been so angry, he might have smiled at the thought of how Maddy would react. “If I tried, she’d fling it back in my face.”
She snorted. “Because you’re worth more to her in marriage.”
“She’s not after my money.”
“Nonsense, of course she is—not that I blame her for that. According to that maid of hers, she was about to be tossed into the streets.”
Nash said nothing. He wasn’t about to confirm or deny it. Not that his aunt cared.
“And up you rode like a character out of a fairy tale, fell off your horse, scrambled your brains so you didn’t know whether you were Arthur or Martha, and before you know it, little Miss Woodford had her hooks in you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she caused the accident in the first place.”
Nash clenched his fists. “That’s not how it was.”
“Faugh!” she exclaimed. “Men are so blind. Made you think yourself a hero, did she?”
Nash clenched his fists. If his aunt were a man, he’d hit her. “My mind is made up. I will marry Miss Woodford. You may say what you will to me in private, but I insist you treat her with respect. If not . . .” He gave her a hard look.
His aunt raised her well-plucked brows so high they almost disappeared into her coiffure. “Like that, is it?”
“It is.”
She drank the last of her sherry and set down the glass with a sniff. “Even Harry, with all the disadvantages of his birth, managed to get himself an earl’s daughter.”
“Harry didn’t ‘get himself an earl’s daughter.’ He fell in love with a woman who happened to be one. There’s a difference.”
