Royal Regard

Chapter Twenty-Two, Part 4

"And why not?" she demanded. "Why would someone like you marry someone like me without intending to seek comfort in some other... some prettier woman's bed? My husband is paying you to take me off his hands, and as soon as you have his money, I'll be left at Wellstone and forgotten."

If this were the tack she was taking, he would never win by simply professing his sincerity—too many titled men professed, but never kept, such promises. In fact, a few months ago, had he been inspired to court one of Allie's candidates, he might have considered exactly that course.

But not today.

The very idea of being away from Bella most of the year was agonizing; trying to replace her with another woman was at best tiresome and at worst nauseating. Keeping her in London, where she was always so unhappy, made him feel the worst kind of lout, so he had already begun staffing Wellstone again, to prepare for the duke and duchess to take up residence year-round.

But, to convince her of his intent, he would have to use what everyone agreed was a last resort. Quite possibly the only way to render her completely speechless long enough to bring her around, but it might, under some—no, most—all—circumstances, set off her penchant for autonomy, and might easily be twisted by female logic—if there were such a thing—into one more reason to defy his wishes and her husband's.

"You honestly believe I want to marry you for money? Do you have any idea of the arrangements I've made?"

She turned up her nose. "All contracts can be broken."

"Have you ever seen a contract written by the Earl of Huntleigh?"

Apparently she had, as she unbent a little, tipping her head with a tinge of curiosity, well covered by continued disdain of the same type she had been leveling at him for weeks.

Well, he could stand another hour or so of that if need be. This might yet be managed by letting her yell at him for the many advantages he was offering to share with her.

"Darling, I have seven generations of family wealth, more money than Huntleigh many times over. I have no need of his fortune—your fortune. The only provision involving your money says you keep the lot of it, down to the last shilling, and you may do anything you like with it."

Her head snapped toward him, shocked to the bone, but surprisingly, not suspicious. She quickly regained the disdain, however. "You cannot promise to defy the law."

"No? Have you any idea what a duke and an earl can accomplish between them with a team of the king's solicitors in place? Even after your marriage—our marriage—feme sole, suggested by the king and already approved by private session in The Lords. Unless you'd like to brabble about it with Prinny and Parliament, of course."

She apparently lost her tongue—thankfully—at the idea she had been discussed and her future decided in The House of Lords. Recognized as an independent woman of property by the highest legal body in the land, beholden to no man for her support nor obligated to share her wealth. And she hadn't been consulted.

Nick knew that had been a bad idea, but her husband had said the more input she was given into the terms, the more difficult the negotiations would become. He had agreed at the time, assuming Huntleigh knew her well enough to make the decision, but her face now made him wince.

"How dare—"

Stop her before she gets started, Huntleigh had said. Charlotte's suggestion had been more instructive: Cut her off at every turn, before she gathers momentum. Once she gets going, she won't stop for days. As if he didn't know that by now.