Regency High Society Vol 6: The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow. Anne O'Brien
Why I should accept the offer and become Lady Joshua Faringdon.
A lot of thought was required here. It was not a list as easily begun as the previous one. But at last she began.
1. Security.
For herself and for her son. She would never again have to worry over the future and whether she would have the means to put a roof over John’s head or clothes on his back. And there would be so many advantages for him. John would be able to have a horse of his own and—She stopped her mind dwelling on such material trivialities to return to the matter in hand.
2. Beth.
She would have the continued care of Beth, which she would enjoy as a mother, not merely a governess. She would enjoy a daughter.
3.I can renew my friendship with Judith and Simon.
That would be good. And she would not have Thea bearing down on her, demanding to know what she was about. Sarah smiled. She would have liked to talk to Thea about this whole unbelievable situation.
Then pursed her lips. She had told Judith that she would only marry again for love. For nothing less. With a sharp inhalation she rubbed ink from her fingers. Then, before she could change her mind, she wrote:
4.I love him.
As she closed her eyes against her admission, written there for all to see, the image came into her mind, startlingly clear. The sharp planes and angles of his face, the beauty of his eyes, which silvered when he smiled and they caught the light, the dense metallic pewter of his hair. The elegance of his figure, even though he still struggled with pain and discomfort. How very splendid he was. How he caused her breath to shorten and her mouth to dry—foolish woman that she was! And there was also his kindness to her and to John. And that extra quality, which drew her emotions inexorably to him, however much against her will. So what if he was a heartless rake and a libertine? He had never been heartless in his dealings with her. What if he could never love her? She could love him and live with him as his wife. She could certainly keep him out of the talons of avaricious women such as Olivia Wexford. His title and his wealth meant nothing to her. But the chance to be his wife, to be near him, meant everything.
Sarah sat and simply looked at the two lists, one beside the other, measuring and discarding. It was the matter of her dependence—or lack of it—that was the thing, she decided. And the Countess of Wexford, of course. She would be foolish to deny that! She bared her teeth in a fair imitation of a snarl as she recalled the lady’s smug complacence when she placed her slender fingers on Joshua’s wrist, demanding all his attention, to the exclusion of all else. But perhaps there were ways around such obstacles if she really wished… A little smile curved her lips, a bubble of excitement erupted in her blood. She hugged herself. Perhaps after all… Then rose to her feet to consign both lists to the flames, watching as they disintegrated into ash.
Next day Mrs Russell duly requested an interview with Lord Faringdon and wasted no time.
‘I have thought of your proposal, my lord. I made a list.’
‘A list? I see.’ Or perhaps he didn’t. What an unexpectedly fascinating woman she was. ‘And your decision?’
‘I will accept. I will marry you if that is your wish.’
Lord Joshua tightened his muscles against the sudden and unexpected surge of satisfaction at her words. He had not, in all honesty, thought it a possible outcome.
‘But I would make a suggestion,’ his housekeeper continued before he could reply.
‘Ah…’ Now what on earth…?
‘I think we should consider a contract before we make our final decision.’
‘Well, if you wish it…’ He tried not to allow the puzzlement to appear on his face, in his voice. ‘Do you not trust me to deal with you fairly as my wife? Of course there will be a legal contract, a binding settlement to ensure the future of yourself and John.’
‘No—I did not mean that… I know that you will do everything that is right in way of a settlement. I meant something in the way of a more personal contract—what we expect from each other and from our marriage to each other—if you take my meaning,’ It was suddenly very difficult to explain. She looked at him with anxiety, praying for understanding.
Lord Faringdon experienced a sharp tug of amusement, but he would not dare to laugh while faced with this most serious lady. ‘If that is what you wish,’ he agreed, a little warily. ‘But why?’
‘You may not wish to marry me when you see what I would hope for.’
‘I see.’ Again he didn’t, but he would allow her to have her own way.
‘Then I will write a list of… of my terms—and you should do likewise—of what you wish from me as your wife.’ Colour rose to tint her cheeks deliciously, instantly captivating him.
‘And if our two lists are acceptable?’ His expression remained remarkably solemn. ‘Compatible?’
‘Then I will accept your kind offer, my lord.’
It was hardly a romantic basis for a marriage, but he inclined his head in stern agreement. He would not smile! ‘Thank you, Mrs Russell. And how long do you envisage for this writing of compatible lists?’
‘I would like a week in which to consider it, my lord. If that is to your liking.’
‘Very well. You shall have a week to decide on my fitness to be your husband.’
Ignoring this deliberate provocation, suspecting his amusement at her expense, Sarah immediately turned to go, the business completed, but he stopped her, his voice gentle yet still commanding. ‘Will you allow me to do one thing, madam? To seal our agreement?’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘I would like to kiss your fingers.’ Her lips, he decided, with some degree of disappointment, were clearly beyond bounds here.
‘Why…yes…if you wish it, sir.’
Never had he approached so reluctant a lady. But nothing deterred, he bowed with due and solemn courtesy before her and, when she placed her hand in his, he raised it to his lips in the most formal of gestures. Her skin was cool and soft beneath the warmth of his mouth. ‘You are very practical, Mrs Russell. It would not do to embark on a liaison that stood little chance of success. I shall pray for compatibility.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ He was laughing at her! Her brows twitched together in suspicion.
He really would have to stop her inclination to use such formality — but perhaps not yet. ‘Perhaps we shall deal well together, madam.’ He took the opportunity to capture her other hand, to kiss those fingers as well.
‘It would be my wish, my lord. I would not desire you to be dissatisfied with the results of your most generous offer.’ The colour deepened with her reply. If she had but realised, he thought, it was a very sad little comment on her experience of life. He found himself reluctant to release her hands after all.
But Sarah drew away. ‘If you will excuse me, sir, Beth will be waiting for me for her lesson.’
‘And what is it to be today?’ He tried to lighten the tension between them.
‘French, my lord.’
‘Of course. Then I should say “Merci et au revoir, Madame Russell”.’
At some time during the following week Lord Faringdon sat down at his desk with a sheet of blank paper before him. For some inexplicable female reason, Sarah Russell wanted a contract between them. He supposed that he must give it some thought before the eleventh hour. What on earth would she expect from him? She had said that they should write what they hoped for from the match.
Be practical! That was what she would expect. Mrs Russell was a very practical lady. With his black brows drawn