Page 5

“I understand that. So I should stay here in the manor for the time being. It is large enough. We would never see each other. I will only stay here until the house is available, and then I shall move there.” She longed to look away because the judgment in his eyes caused her stomach to churn with rage.

He thought her foolish. That much was clear.

Then, he snorted audibly. “Oh, so only for whatever duration providence may dictate, then? Lady Appleton may well live another two or three decades. We are going to be cohabiting until then?”

“Or until such time as circumstances should alter. You do own several other estates, many of which Lady Appleton would be much happier at, I venture to say,” she said.

“A duke’s sister-in-law ought not to live in the Dower house.

It is not right. And I will not be sent away, as I said.

I refuse to become an object of society’s condescension and false sympathy. ”

“For what reason do you find it objectionable to return to your home?” he said.

“For what reason? I left it to be a duchess. To live in a grand manor. I was promised that I would live the life of a duchess. Do you truly think that I wish to be married to a seventy-two-year-old man? I was asked to make sacrifices—and I did. And I want my reward.”

She knew how he saw her—as some sort of title-grabbing fortune hunter. The same way she saw him. But did that matter? No. What mattered was that she received what she wanted, what she needed. She could not be in her father’s home again and lose everything she had just gained.

“Madam,” he said, willfully avoiding using her title, “you were married to my uncle for the briefest of time. You are fortunate that I do not contest the will. What would it look like if you stayed here—living in his house—when he is gone? With me? No. It would be a scandal. It would appear that you and I were fraternizing. I will not have it. I inherited a dukedom, not a scandal.”

“It is hardly a scandal for an aunt to live in her nephew’s home.”

This time, the snort that came out of his mouth was so loud he tilted backwards slightly. “My aunt? You are twenty. I am nearly ten years older than you. I must caution you against such unwarranted, ridiculous demands.”

“I am not ridiculous. I am demanding what is mine. I am owed the house. I am owed a place to stay. I will not return to my father’s house. I will not be pitied and looked down upon any more than I already was for having married a man your uncle’s age. It is not right.”

Something in her tone gave him pause. She saw it in the way he flinched. Of course, it was not right. Anyone with any decency could see it.

“Pray, where is your father? Why are you negotiating these terms without him?”

She shrugged. “I do not know. He left for some scheme months ago. After arranging my marriage to your uncle. We have not seen him since.”

He took a deep breath.

“If I return home, he will come to me and demand the money I got in my jointure. He will waste it. The entirety of my settlement, down to the last farthing. Then, he will remarry me to some other fellow who will pay for his debts.”

He gulped visibly, and perhaps at last, he understood.

It was well known that her father was a ne’er-do-well who wasted all of his money.

Surely, even in Edinburgh, they had heard of the hapless Lord Lowey.

His tongue ran across his lips, and then he smiled.

It wasn’t the sort of smile that told her he understood her point, however.

It was the sort that made her worry over what might come out of his mouth. She braced herself.

“Very well. You may stay here. For a brief time,” he said, raising his index finger at her, “—under one condition. You are to be married.”

“Married?” she said. “I have barely stepped foot into the mourning period.”

“I understand that. However, it is generally acknowledged throughout polite society that this marriage was an arranged one. And the few minutes you were actually married can hardly be seen as needing an entire year of mourning. No. You will remain here as you wish. And I will ensure your father does not get his hands on your wealth.”

“And how will you do that?” Was he addle-brained as well as a fortune hunter?

“By securing for you a more advantageous marital alliance. One in which you get a say, not your father.”

“I just wish to live here, in the home I was promised.” Could this really be happening?

“Well, those are my conditions. You may stay here as long as you agree to marry again, to a man who will keep you and your fortune safe. If you disagree, then I will ask you to remove yourself and your belongings by the end of the day. Today.”

This man was unconscionable. He was wicked-minded just like his uncle. She wanted to protest, but as she looked at him and saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smirk, she understood that she stood no chance.

No. The only way she could get what she wanted was to beat him at his own game. He expected her to say no; she understood that.

And so, with a bright smile, she humbly nodded.

“Very well. I shall take you up on your offer. I shall stay here, in my rooms as assigned, until such a time you can find me a more suitable husband. One I will also agree to.” She raised her head and saw how puzzled he was by her agreement.

Evely had to work hard to suppress a grin, but she managed.

“All right then, we are in agreement,” he said at last, his tone defeated.

“Very well,” she agreed, and when they parted ways in opposite directions, her lips curled up into a smile, for she knew she had won.

He might not think so, but it was true. For, of course, no matter what man he presented to her, she would not accept a single one.

Indeed, she would drive them all away until, in the end, there wasn’t a bachelor left in London, and then, he would have to do what she asked in the first place.

Have the dower house vacated so she might move in and live there for the rest of her days—unwed and free.