A Noble Man. Anne Ashley
pair of tailor’s dummies!”
“God in heaven!” His lordship clapped a hand over his eyes. “Where in the world do you learn such expressions?”
The exaggerated raising of one brow was a clear indication that she considered the question totally unnecessary. “From the male members of this household, who else?”
Not best pleased at suddenly finding himself at a disadvantage, the Earl went striding back across to his desk. “I’ll have a word with that brother of yours when next I see him. He must learn to put a guard on his tongue when you’re about.”
“I’m reliably informed that Marcus should be arriving any time now, and intends to stay in town for a week or two. I must say though, Papa, I think you’re being grossly unfair to take him to task,” she pointed out in her absent half-brother’s defence, “especially as you yourself use the most appalling cant when in my presence.”
He was about to refute this, but then thought better of it and, instead, scooped up and waved the letters he had received during the past two weeks from those four hapless suitors. “Don’t think that you can lead me away from the matter in hand, you cunning little minx!”
The only effect this mild rebuke had on his headstrong daughter was to make her smile more brilliantly, and his lordship’s annoyance finally got the better of him. “You appear to take a light view of marriage, Sophia. Well, permit me to point out that it is a very serious business. An ill-judged choice of partner only brings misery to all concerned, and I do not intend that you should make a mistake in your choice of husband if it is within my power to prevent it. So, I have come to a decision.”
He paused for a moment to ensure that he had her full attention. “I have made no secret of the fact that I intend to settle a large sum of money upon you when you marry. There is, however, a condition attached to my generosity. If you choose to marry without my consent, then your future husband had better possess sufficient funds to support you, because you will receive not a penny from me.” Again he paused while he tossed the letters from the rejected suitors back on the desk. “Now, do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly, sir. What you are trying to tell me is that I may marry whomsoever I choose providing he has wealth and belongs to our social class.” An ominous glint replaced the teasing sparkle in her eyes, as Sophia rose gracefully from the chair nearest to the hearth. “It would appear, then, that I am destined to lead a life of hardship, for I would far rather be poor and married to a man of real worth than riveted to some empty-headed fribble whose only concern is how best to tie his cravat.”
His lordship could be as determined as his headstrong daughter when he chose, and refused to give way on this issue. “I would suggest that you go up to your room and think very seriously about this matter,” he remarked, unbending.
Obediently she moved across to the door, but turned back to add, eyes still glinting, though whether in anger or devilment or a mixture of both, his lordship wasn’t perfectly sure. “Of course I shall do as you wish, but not for any great length of time. Mama would not be best pleased if I were late in putting in an appearance at my very own ball.” And with that quite deliberately provocative remark she left the room, and her father wondering what he had ever done that the gods should have seen fit to curse him with such a headstrong chit of a girl.
The Countess, emerging from the front parlour in time to see her daughter mount the stairs, was not slow to notice the stubborn set of those lovely features, and knew even before she entered the library to find her husband glowering out of the window that the interview had not progressed quite as he might have wished.
“I assume Vale’s offer received the same contemptuous refusal as the other three,” she remarked, seating herself in the chair recently vacated by Sophia.
“That daughter of yours is impossible!” his lordship snapped. Which, of course, was answer enough.
“Why is it, Thomas, that she is always my daughter whenever she has displeased you in some way, and your darling little Sophie at all other times?”
Annoyed though he was, he could not help smiling at this undeniable truth. He turned to look at the woman who had brought real peace and contentment to his life, and not for the first time blessed Providence for ensuring that their paths had crossed all those years ago out in India.
Unlike Danielle, his first wife, Marissa had never possessed any real claim to beauty, not even in her youth, and yet his lordship considered that her many wonderful qualities had withstood the test of time, whereas mere prettiness never could. She had proven to be a devoted wife and loving mother to their own offspring, and even though she had failed completely to cement a maternal bond with Marcus, the only child by his first marriage, his eldest son had never made any secret of the fact that he held his stepmother in the highest esteem.
A sigh escaped him as he drew his mind back to the present, and seated himself in the chair on the opposite side of the hearth. “I fear, my dear, that I have made a mull of it all. Sophia flatly refuses even to consider Vale’s offer.”
Her ladyship smiled faintly. “Can you honestly say that you’re surprised? He is, after all, a good deal older than she. Apart from his wealth, he has little to commend him, and I’m afraid the size of a gentleman’s fortune would have very little influence on our daughter.”
“She has made that abundantly clear.” The Earl’s grey brows snapped together, clearly revealing his continuing displeasure. “Of course, all this flagrant disregard for wealth and rank was instilled in her at that confounded school. She ought never to have gone there, Marissa! That Guarding creature is nothing short of a revolutionary, with her nonsensical notions of equality.”
Once again the Countess smiled that serene smile of hers. “If you recall, Thomas, we both agreed that Sophia would benefit from a year or two away at school. It was, let me remind you, you who insisted that she should not be placed in any one of those superior seminaries in Bath, where she would be absent from home for weeks at a time. The Guarding Academy, being situated so close to home, and having such a good reputation, was the most obvious choice. And as regards what she learnt there…” Her ladyship reached for her embroidery and began calmly to ply her needle. “She learnt nothing from Mrs Guarding that you yourself did not instil in all your children. From an early age all four of them were taught to treat those less fortunate than themselves with fairness and civility. And that, my dear Thomas, is precisely why we rarely have a servant wishing to leave our employ.”
He found himself quite unable to argue with this. “Very true, my dear,” he concurred. “I do believe in treating good and loyal servants courteously, but that doesn’t mean I’d be content to have a footman as a son-in-law.”
Her ladyship’s brows rose at this. “And what on earth makes you suppose that there is any likelihood of that occurring?”
“Because that confounded daughter of yours can be quite stubbornly headstrong when the mood takes her!” his lordship retorted, irritation surfacing again. “She as good as informed me that nothing would induce her to marry a member of her own social class, and that she would far rather be poor and riveted to some impoverished nobody, would you believe?”
The Countess regarded her husband in silence for a moment, realising suddenly that far more had taken place between father and daughter than she had at first realised. “Why should Sophia imagine that she will ever be poor? She is an heiress. You have agreed to settle a fortune on her.”
For the first time his lordship betrayed clear signs of unease. “Only on condition she marries with my full approval,” he mumbled, already regretting having issued such a threat.
It was only to be expected that a girl accustomed to having most everything her own way almost from the day of her birth would kick over the traces when finding herself harnessed for the very first time. But what choice had he? He had only her best interests at heart. Why in heaven’s name couldn’t the headstrong chit see that!
Feeling suddenly weary, he leaned back in his chair. “Oh, Marissa, I’m at a loss to know what to do for the best. I’m