Page 231 of From Rakes to Riches

“I would assume so.”

“Why? Is there some publication where eligible young ladies are listed with their pedigree and monetary worth?” Anger bubbled inside her.

“Of course not. But when a young woman enters the Marriage Mart, certain things are shared.”

“So you shared—with who, the entire ton—that I have an oversized dowry?”

“I made it known, yes.” His brows dug down as his eyes narrowed. “That is how things are done, particularly when a young lady is not, as you put it, pedigreed.”

“I see.” She would never know if any man was ever interested in her for her or for the money she could bring him. Money that wasn’t hers, but with which she could change her life and be independent. Of course, women were never afforded that option. Just imagine if a father—or a bloody guardian—said,“This is your dowry, but if you choose not to wed, you may take it for yourself.”She nearly laughed out loud.

“You seem angry,” he said slowly.

“I feel trapped. I am utterly reliant on you and my future husband. I don’t even know what to do about poor Mrs. Tucket. She’d probably be happier back in Shropshire, but I can’t make that happen. I have to ask you or my husband to provide a retirement for her. Apparently, I have a dowry that Icoulduse, except that I can’t because it isn’t really mine.”

Lines burrowed across his forehead. “You aren’t trapped. I am doing my best to give you the best opportunities.”

“As dictated by Society. I must learn to dance and how to behave so that I may find a husband.”

He frowned more deeply. “I also obtained books and maps for you, as well as a pianoforte. I’ve tried to give you things you’ve never had and that you clearly enjoy.”

Some of her ire dissipated, but the sense of being in a cage did not. She thought of returning to Shropshire with Mrs. Tucket, but she’d be without choices there too, since her cousin would marry her off just as Overton was doing. “I am grateful, my lord, for everything. And I shall repay you by marrying Lord Gregory, provided he proposes. It seems that is the preferred, and best, course. I bid you good evening.”

She turned and left the library without tidying the maps. Because to stay another moment in his presence might have completely broken her spirit.

After a particularly longday at Westminster, Tobias went directly to the gaming room at the Phoenix Club where, over the course of an hour, he lost a considerable sum of money. Most of it went to Mrs. Jennings, a sharp, witty widow around forty years of age.

As he took his leave of the table, she did the same. “You seemed distracted as we played, Overton,” she said as they walked between the tables.

Between his troublesome ward and his lack of marriage prospects, Tobias was more than distracted. One might even describe him as morose. “My mind is cluttered,” he admitted. “It was a busy day at Westminster.”

“I don’t miss that about Mr. Jennings,” she said. “He spent far too much time there, which was probably the cause of the fit that killed him.”

Tobias recalled that he’d died—in his seat in the Commons—two years previously. “Mr. Jennings was a strong voice.”

“He was indeed. Is that what you were doing today?” she asked, peering at him askance with her bright blue-green eyes. “Pontificating?”

“Heavens no.” Tobias made a slight face for comedic effect. “I try never to do that. I did deliver a small speech about voting reform, but there aren’t many who support that.”

She smiled approvingly. “Mr. Jennings would have been proud of you.”

Tobias’s father would have been horrified, which Tobias counted as an added bonus. “Are you going upstairs to the members’ den?” he asked, intending to offer his escort.

“I am.” At her confirmation, he presented his arm and an invitation. “Thank you. Can I attribute anything to your behavior beyond polite kindness?”

He guided her toward the staircase hall. “What do you mean?”

“I understand you are searching for a wife. I am probably too old for you. However, my younger sister is not. She is, however, on the shelf and not currently in London.”

Tobias liked Mrs. Jennings, but this was an odd conversation. Did he appear desperate?

“I heard about your…situation last week here in the garden.” She gave him a sympathetic look as they started up the stairs. “I wondered if you might seek to find a bride who would not be troubled by your…activities.” Lowering her voice, she added, “My sister would not mind. In fact, she’d be happy to engage in an arrangement in which she provides you an heir and beyond that you lead separate lives.”

Tobias caught his foot on the next stair and had to clasp the railing. Mrs. Jennings gripped him more tightly and let out a soft chuckle. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I was not, ah, expecting you to say any of that.” His mind scrambled to think of an appropriate response.Wasthere an appropriate response?

“Such things aren’t typically discussed so brazenly, but I don’t see a need to mince words. You seem in want of a wife and find yourself in a difficult circumstance. I only wanted to offer a solution.”

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