Page 19 of His Arranged Duchess
“You seem nervous,” he stated bluntly.
She swallowed, picking up a cup of tea and taking a sip. “I am not.”
“Hm. Well, I thought a monthly stipend of one hundred pounds would suit you. What do you think?”
Frances choked on her tea. “One hundred pounds?What on earth would I need with such an amount? Onehundredpounds? Heavens, that’s obscene.”
Lucien scowled just a little before returning his face to its usual composure. She had the feeling she had embarrassed him, somehow.
“I’ll not have people saying that I keep my wife in rags,” he snapped. “You must have a sensible allowance. People will take note of that kind of thing. How about fifty pounds?”
Fifty pounds still seemed like a terrific sum to Frances—itwasa terrific sum—but she supposed she could save whatever she did not spend. She would probably want to host parties, which was what duchesses seemed to do, or organize charitable events.
A literary salon,she thought suddenly.I could begin a proper literary salon. We could meet, read books, and discuss them. I could buy whatever books I liked, even the ones Mama expressly forbade me to buy.
A shiver rolled down her spine at that. She was thinking of a particular book, entitled simplyThe Highwayman.The plot, as far as she could tell, involved a beautiful young woman—they were always beautiful young women—who was kidnapped by a dashing, handsome highwayman as part of some nefarious plot. They naturally fell in love, and the book was said to depict such love in moreexplicitterms than some other books. She knew, of course, that proper ladies did not read such things. They did not even know that such books existed. But Francesdidknow and found herself inexplicably drawn to them.
Clearing her throat, Frances put all thoughts ofThe Highwaymanfrom her mind and applied herself to her breakfast.
“I don’t require a large allowance,” she said at last. “I don’t intend to waste my dowry.”
“Nor do I. Ah, here comesyourbreakfast. I suggest you put that bacon aside.”
Lucien sat back with an air of smugness and waved for Gray to come forward.
The butler set down a silver plate bearing a sticky jam tart and a fresh, citrusy-smelling slice of lemon cake.
“Sweets every morning, as requested,” Lucien remarked, lifting an eyebrow. “I trust this suits your needs?”
The sweets smelled fresh and delicious, as if there was sugar in the very fragrance. Frances breathed in deeply, unable to resist a smile.
“I think that this is an excellent start,” she remarked at last, grinning.
“Good,” he responded, taking a swig of his tea. “Perhaps this will encourage you to avoid harassing my staff for information about me.”
“I’ve promised I won’t snoop,” Frances responded primly, “so I shan’t. But there are a great many things you shall have to do to earn my trust.”
He smiled faintly, fingertips clicking rhythmically on the side of his cup.
“And to get in your bed.”
Frances froze, a jam tart halfway to her mouth.
“Ibegyour pardon?”
He chuckled. “Come now, my dear, let’s not beat about the bush. You’re a clever young woman, and you know quite well what ladies and gentlemen get up to in bed, I imagine.”
“I would rather you didn’t imagine such things about me.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table. “This coyness is very sweet, my dear, but it will lose its savour very quickly. I am a proponent of plain speaking. There is no sense in avoiding certain words and subjects, not when theymustbe discussed.”
“Must they?”
“Yes,” he responded calmly. “The plain fact, my dear duchess, is that I require an heir, sooner or later. And you, my prim little angel, refuse to give one to me. Now, I intend to be a suitable husband and will not share your bed until you wish it, but make no mistake. This is not a love match. I am not wooing you. I am simply going along with your wishes until we both have what we want. This marriage of ours, my dear, is one of convenience. You must never lose sight of that.”
A brief silence followed. Frances was horrified to discover that her chest was tightening, and she felt… Well, she felthurt.
I have no right to feel hurt,she scolded herself furiously.Thisisa marriage of convenience. We both know it. I almost married another man whom I did not love. Of course, I didn’t think that Lucien was actually courting me.
