Page 40 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
“Whisky is fine.” Evan was surprised when Crenshaw reached behind several bottles on a sideboard and produced an unopened bottle of Lochnagar.
“I’ve heard this was your favorite.”
Evan should not have been surprised that the man had researched his favorite whisky. It was common for well-placed families to know the likes and dislikes of their guests to make them feel more comfortable. And while his visit today had not been known, it had been assumed that he would visit at some point. The man was only being a good host by being prepared. What disappointed Evan was how easily things seemed to be proceeding. Beyond one dinner and a brief conversation at Hereford’s ball, Evan had not talked to the man extensively. Yet, he seemed willing to offer up his daughter—either daughter—to Evan on a silver platter, complete with a tumbler of whisky on the side.
August was far more precious than that. The man should have been interrogating him on his plans for her future. Instead, he stood proudly as he handed a whisky to Evan. Taking it with a murmur of thanks, Evan enjoyed the slow burn of the liquid across his tongue as he tasted it, but it settled heavy with the guilt in his stomach.
“I admit that I expected you before now, Your Grace.” Crenshaw settled himself with all the aplomb of a peacock smoothing out his feathers in the chair across from Evan.
It occurred to Evan that he did not like this man very much. “Why is that, Crenshaw?”
The older man gave him a knowing smile that made hismustache twitch. “Because I know the value of my daughters, and I think you do as well.”
Evan inclined his head, conceding the point. “Ah, but I know the value I bring to a man like yourself. You would not be satisfied with anything less for your daughter.” Did the man even care which woman they were referring to? Probably not. The whisky went bitter on his tongue at his own complicity in this.
Crenshaw threw back his head and laughed. “This is what I so enjoy about you. I admire a man who doesn’t mince his words, who doesn’t try to say one thing while insinuating another.”
“Then we should cut through the preliminaries. I am here to seek your permission to marry Miss Crenshaw.” He might have asked to court her, but they all knew his goal. Crenshaw was right. There was no need to mince his words.
The smile the man wore was every bit the cat who had lapped up all the cream. “Our August will make a lovely duchess for you, Your Grace. There is, of course, more to discuss in the way of financials. I am sure you understand that I’ve had your holdings looked into. I am sorry to say that it doesn’t look good. However, I am certain we can come to an arrangement.”
Evan was stunned at how quickly everything was moving along. While he had not expected the man to put up much of a fight, he had expected something. Some pushback regarding her welfare. Evan nodded. “Of course.”
“I don’t have the figures before me, but I presume you would require the settlements of your debts with a generous sum to start renovations or what have you?”
“Yes.” Evan nodded again, still fairly stunned at the recent developments. “I have had my solicitor, Clark, arrange a meeting...” Mrs. Crenshaw’s voice interrupted him from beyond the closed doorway a mere second before it was swung open by a footman. The woman came sweeping into the drawing room.
“How lovely to see you, Your Grace. I am sorry I wasn’t at home when you arrived.” Her face was flushed, and she seemed faintly out of breath.
Had someone gone to retrieve her the moment Evan had stepped into the house?
Evidently, yes. Crenshaw did not appear in the least surprised to see her as he came to his feet and took her hands. “Welcome home, my dear. Isn’t it a lovely surprise to come home and find His Grace visiting?”
Evan had come to his feet as soon as she strode into the room. He offered a curt greeting, suddenly feeling like a prime side of beef on display at a meat market.
Once the woman had settled herself on the settee, Evan and her husband followed suit. Then Crenshaw said with a self-satisfied smile, “His Grace has asked for August’s hand in marriage.”
“Oh?” The way her eyebrows went up in practiced surprise had Evan tossing back nearly all of his whisky. “Thank you so much for the honor, Your Grace.” Then she immediately turned her attention to her husband. “Is that why I heard you discussing settlements and debts?”
Crenshaw had the grace to appear sheepish. If it were real or false, Evan could not tell.
“That is hardly appropriate conversation for the drawing room, Mr. Crenshaw. Not at all. Save it for your study.”
“Of course, dear.” Crenshaw gave her a smirk and diverted a knowing wink at Evan.
Evan managed to keep his voice benign as he said, “As I mentioned, I have arranged a meeting with Clark where we can discuss the finer details. My study at Sterling House is a setting of which I believe Mrs. Crenshaw will approve.”
“When would you like the wedding to take place?” asked Mrs. Crenshaw.
Evan shifted uncomfortably at the abrupt change. The conversation had gone better than expected, but it felt wrong, as if they had been lying in wait for him. Sweat prickled out along his brow as he felt the claws of their trap closing around him. Also, he had to admit to himself there was a fair bit of disappointment. It was not winning if August had not chosen him herself. He had done absolutely nothing to win the right to marry her.
Reminding himself that this marriage was indeed agood and necessary thing, he said, “As soon as things can be reasonably arranged. Sometime in May, perhaps. I would prefer to have Miss Crenshaw offer her opinion on such details.”
Mrs. Crenshaw preened prettily and started blathering on about dates and venues. It appeared that it had not occurred to her that he was right. August should have some say, he felt, and yet she would be the last person to agree to any of this.
“Excuse me, but do either of you not care to discuss any provisions for your daughter?” The words were out before he could call them back. The couple looked at him with matching expressions of bemusement. How was it that he, the fortune hunter planning to take their daughter away from them, was the only one concerned with her future? “While we do indeed need to discuss the financials of the match, should we not also discuss Miss Crenshaw’s needs and wants?”
Mrs. Crenshaw was the first to smile. “What more could she need? The settlement will be quite generous, I assure you, with a proper annuity.” She glanced at her husband for confirmation, and when he nodded, she said, “So she really has no need to worry.”
