Page 9 of The Best Husband Money Can Buy

Instead of looking grateful, she said, “Don’t say that. Indebtedness is a poor foundation for a marriage. You will soon hate feeling obligated, and then you will hate me.” Her lips curved in a wry smile. “I don’t want that.”

He felt as if he’d just been struck a solid blow to the midriff. Who would have thought that this woman, whom a week earlier he would have passed on the street without a second glance, would be able to get into his mind so effortlessly? After drawing a deep breath, he said, “You are very wise, and very generous.”

“Not really. The bargain we struck is a fair one. My money paid the debts incurred by your father, and in return I have secured a fine home and a distinguished rank in society.” A hint of irony sounded in her husky voice. “Not to mention a husband that all women will envy me.”

“I shall do my best to forget my sense of obligation,” he said, thinking she over-rated his desirability. When he was trying to raise money to save Canfield, parents had kept their eligible daughters far away. “I’ll be a properly arrogant husband in no time.”

Her face lit up as she laughed. He realized that he hadn’t seen her laugh before. Amusement transformed her from sober governess to a vividly alive woman.

That realization was followed by another: hewantedto take her to Harley. Not because he was in her debt, but because he wanted to please her since she asked so little for herself. “Since you’ve already written to the Dowager Duchess, we really ought to go to Harley. I promise I won’t be a martyr over it.”

She caught her breath, hope in her eyes. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to go if a visit would be painful for you.”

Ruefully he recognized that his accommodating wife was making it easy for him to be a coward. He must take care that she didn’t undermine what character he possessed. “I expect that the visit will be awkward, at least at the beginning. But actually, having just married makes this the perfect time to return. If I don’t now, I may be condemning myself to a lifetime of exile. I’ve just realized that I don’t want that. Harley and the family gatherings were too important a part of my life to throw away without at least attempting to mend those burned bridges.” His tone turned dry. “Of course, Brand may throw me out, but at least I will have tried.”

Surprised, Emma said, “Surely he would not behave so rudely. I remember him as being very even-tempered.”

Anthony hesitated, reluctant to lose his bride’s good opinion, but knowing it would be unfair to take her to Harley without telling her the whole story. “Even a steady man reacts badly to being told his adored fiancée is marrying him for his money and title. That every night he and Cecilia lay together, she’d be thinking of me.”

Emma winced. “Anthony, you didn’t.”

He sighed. “I’m afraid I did, along with some other equally insulting comments. We got into a ferocious fight. I’m bigger, but Brand was murderously angry. If our fathers hadn’t intervened, it might have ended in pistols at dawn.”

“Thank heaven it didn’t come to that!” she said vehemently.

“I wouldn’t want Brand’s blood on my head,” he agreed.

Amused, she said, “You’re that sure you would have won?”

“I’m a far better shot.” He had a brief, horrifying image of him and Brand facing each other with guns in their hands. Thank God that hadn’t happened!

“But if there had been a duel, wouldn’t the choice of weapons have been Brand’s? As I recall, he was a superb swordsman.”

She was right, he realized. “I never thought of that, probably because the quarrel didn’t go so far. I left Harley the same day, and have never been back. Once or twice Brand and I have met in public. He always gives me the cut direct.”

“So much has happened that I never knew about,” she said pensively.

He resumed his prowling as he thought about the return to Harley. Brand’s parents and grandmother would not allow any scenes, but the situation would still be strained. Sadly he thought of all the boyhood escapades he and his cousin had shared. They’d gone to school together at Winchester. Countless nights had been spent commiserating about the horrors of school, or sneaking out to buy the extra food necessary to growing boys.

That closeness was no longer possible, not with the shadows of Cecilia and Anthony’s own insults between them. But if he apologized profusely, perhaps they could at least be civil to each other in the future.

Lord, what would it be like to see Cecilia again? He wasn’t sure if he loved her or despised her. Both, perhaps. She was the only girl he’d ever loved, and she’d made a fool of him. Her betrayal had left permanent scars. If financial necessity hadn’t driven him to marry Emma, it was quite possible that he would have spent his life as a bachelor.

He ceased his prowling and studied his wife, who still sat peaceably on the sofa, giving no hint of her thoughts. He felt a curious duality. He liked her, and his respect for her intelligence and honesty was growing hourly.

At the same time, he saw her as the drab governess whose appearance had been designed to avoid notice. She had been right to say that people would wonder why the fashionable Lord Verlaine had married such an unprepossessing woman.

After a moment spent deciding how to present his case in a way so it would not sound too insulting, he said, “You asked to be treated with courtesy and respect for the sake of your pride. I, too, have pride. I don’t want to go to Harley and have the family judge me a fortune hunter who has taken advantage of your honesty and innocence.”

Her expression closed. “Does that you mean you’ve again changed your mind about going there?”

“It means that we’ll both benefit by appearing fond rather than barely acquainted. And that we must get you to a modiste and order you a new wardrobe immediately.”

Taken aback, she said, “I wouldn’t object to some new gowns. But you can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear.”

Uncomfortably aware that she had sensed what he wasn’t saying, he said, “How fortunate that we don’t have to. Come. I’ll take you to Madam Chloe. There’s no time to waste if we’re to have you turned out properly by next week.”

“Very well.” She got to her feet and retrieved her bonnet, saying darkly, “Just remember what I said about sow’s ears!”

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