Page 8 of A Wife for the Beast (Scandals and Second Chances #6)

His answers were delivered with the same businesslike precision he might have employed when discussing agricultural improvements or investment strategies, devoid of any warmth or personal investment in the outcomes he described.

Yet Evangeline detected beneath his calculated indifference a kind of desperate hope, as though he feared that too much enthusiasm might somehow jinx the negotiations.

"I see," she said, moving to examine a collection of leather-bound volumes near the window, her fingers trailing along their gilt spines as she considered her next words carefully.

"And what of the more personal aspects of such a union?

You spoke yesterday of the eventual necessity of providing an heir, but surely you must realise that such matters cannot be approached with the same detachment one might employ when purchasing breeding stock. "

A flush of color crept up his neck, and she noticed that his knuckles had whitened where they gripped the edge of his desk.

"I am aware that the intimate aspects of marriage require adjustment particularly given my current circumstances.

I would naturally approach such matters with appropriate consideration for your sensibilities and comfort. "

"How very thoughtful of you, Your Grace," she replied with a hint of irony that made his jaw tighten visibly. "And I suppose you have given considerable thought to the practical challenges of sharing a household with a woman who might hold opinions that occasionally conflict with your own?"

"I have given thought to many aspects of this arrangement, Miss Hartwell, including the likelihood that a woman of your evident intelligence and independence would require a certain degree of accommodation.

I am prepared to make such adjustments as prove necessary for the smooth functioning of our household. "

The careful phrasing revealed more than he perhaps intended about his expectations and concerns.

He clearly anticipated resistance to his authority, yet seemed willing to negotiate rather than simply impose his will through the legal rights that marriage would grant him.

The admission suggested a flexibility of character that his harsh exterior belied, and Evangeline found herself wondering what other surprises might lurk beneath his carefully maintained facade.

"Your Grace," she said, turning from her examination of his books to face him directly, "may I speak with perfect frankness regarding my situation and the decision I am required to make?"

"I would welcome such frankness, Miss Hartwell. Pretense serves neither of us in these circumstances."

"Very well. I find myself in the position of a woman with no alternatives save those you have offered.

I possess neither fortune nor powerful connections that might secure me a position in some household where my breeding and education would be valued.

I have no relatives willing or able to provide me with a home, and the prospect of seeking employment as a governess or companion holds little appeal, particularly given the circumstances under which I would be entering such service. "

He listened to her recitation of her difficulties without interruption, his expression revealing neither satisfaction at her desperate circumstances nor sympathy for her plight.

She found his neutrality oddly comforting, as it suggested he would not attempt to exploit her vulnerability for emotional advantage.

"At the same time," she continued, "I am not so foolish as to imagine that marriage to you would be a simple matter of financial security in exchange for domestic compliance.

You are clearly a man of strong opinions and complex character, wounded by experiences I can only begin to imagine.

Living in close proximity to such intensity would require considerable fortitude. "

"Are you attempting to discourage yourself from accepting my proposal, Miss Hartwell?" he asked with what might have been amusement, though his tone remained carefully controlled.

"I am attempting to ensure that we both understand precisely what we would be undertaking," she replied firmly.

"Marriage, even a marriage of convenience, creates bonds and obligations that extend far beyond mere financial arrangement.

We would be bound together for the remainder of our natural lives, forced to navigate disagreements and disappointments without the possibility of retreat to separate establishments. "

"And does the prospect of such permanent entanglement concern you?"

"It concerns me less than the alternative, Your Grace, which should perhaps alarm us both."

This time his amusement was unmistakable, though quickly suppressed. "You have a remarkable capacity for uncomfortable honesty, Miss Hartwell."

"I find that difficult circumstances have little patience for comfortable delusions. If we are to enter into this arrangement, we might as well do so with our eyes fully open to its complexities and challenges."

"And having opened your eyes so thoroughly to those complexities, what conclusion have you reached regarding my proposal?"

The moment had arrived, the point of no return that would determine the entire course of her future. Evangeline drew herself up to her full height and met his gaze with the steady directness that had characterized all their interactions.

"I accept your proposal, Your Grace, with the understanding that this will be a marriage of mutual convenience rather than romantic attachment.

I will endeavour to fulfill my duties as your duchess with appropriate dignity and competence, and I trust you will extend me the courtesy and respect due to my position, regardless of the circumstances that brought us together. "

For a moment, the Duke stood perfectly still, as though her acceptance had somehow surprised him despite the inevitability of her decision.

Then something shifted in his expression—relief, perhaps, or satisfaction at having successfully navigated what must have been an uncomfortable necessity for a man of his pride.

"Very well, Miss Hartwell. I am pleased that we have reached an understanding.

" He moved from behind his desk, approaching her with that careful gait that spoke of ongoing pain but determined dignity.

"If you are amenable, we might proceed immediately with the ceremony.

I have taken the liberty of securing a special license, and the vicar awaits our convenience in the morning room. "

The efficiency of his preparations left her momentarily breathless, though she supposed she should have anticipated such thoroughness from a man who had clearly given considerable thought to the practical aspects of their arrangement.

Still, the idea of proceeding immediately from acceptance to ceremony felt rather precipitous, even by the unconventional standards they had already established.

"Immediately?" she managed, hoping her voice conveyed calm inquiry rather than panic at the speed with which events were proceeding.

"Unless you have some objection to prompt action in this matter? I confess myself eager to have the business concluded, particularly given my upcoming departure for London. It seems prudent to formalize our arrangement before I am called away on estate matters."

His phrasing reduced their wedding to a matter of business efficiency, which she supposed was entirely appropriate given the nature of their agreement.

Yet she found herself wishing for some small acknowledgment that they were embarking upon something more significant than a commercial transaction, some gesture that recognized the magnitude of the step they were taking.

"No objection, Your Grace, though I confess myself somewhat overwhelmed by the rapidity of these proceedings."

"Would you prefer some time to prepare yourself? Mrs. Cromwell has laid out appropriate attire, should you wish to change from your traveling dress."

The practical consideration touched her unexpectedly, suggesting that beneath his businesslike exterior lay some awareness of feminine sensibilities and the importance women placed upon such occasions, even when they were matters of convenience rather than romance.

"That would be most thoughtful, Your Grace. Perhaps half an hour to make myself presentable for such an auspicious occasion?"

"Naturally. I shall inform the vicar that we shall join him shortly."

As Evangeline moved toward the door, her future husband's voice stopped her once again, carrying a note of something that might have been uncertainty or perhaps even vulnerability.

"Miss Hartwell—Evangeline—I want you to understand that while this marriage may be one of convenience, I shall not treat you with anything less than the respect and consideration due to my wife.

Whatever my failings as a man, I am not without honour in my dealings with those who depend upon my protection. "

The unexpected use of her given name, spoken in that deep, cultured voice, sent an odd flutter through her chest. Combined with his promise of honorable treatment, it suggested depths to his character that his harsh exterior concealed, possibilities for their future that transcended mere mutual convenience.

"Thank you, Your Grace. That assurance means more to me than you might realise."

"Lucian," he said quietly. "If we are to be married, you should perhaps accustom yourself to using my Christian name, at least in private circumstances."

"Lucian," she repeated, testing the sound of it upon her tongue. "It suits you; I think."

Something flickered across his scarred features at her simple acceptance of his name and, by extension, his person. "I am pleased you think so. Now go, make whatever preparations you require. We have a wedding to attend."

As Evangeline left the library to prepare for her marriage to a man she had known for less than two days, she found herself marveling at the strange turns her life had taken.

In the space of a single conversation, she had become betrothed to one of the most powerful peers in England, though their union would be founded upon necessity rather than affection, mutual need rather than mutual desire.

Yet perhaps such practical foundations might prove more durable than the romantic attachments that seemed to flame brightly before burning out in disappointment and recrimination.

If she and the Duke—Lucian—could build respect and understanding upon their shared circumstances, perhaps they might create something worthwhile from the unpromising materials fate had provided.

Only time would reveal whether her gamble would prove wisdom or folly, but as she climbed the stairs to prepare for her wedding, Evangeline felt a curious sense of anticipation rather than dread.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would meet them as the Duchess of Ravenshollow, with all the privileges and responsibilities such a position entailed.

The future, uncertain though it remained, had at least acquired a definite shape and direction. For a woman who had awakened that morning with no prospects save charity or degradation, such certainty felt remarkably like a gift, however strangely it had been bestowed.