Page 65 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
He took another breath, proceeding slowly because hevery much felt as if he was poking at a nest of bees. “Do the people in New York not say similar things?”
There were a few moments of silence before she said, “They do. No one knows what to make of a woman in business.”
“No, I suppose they do not. I only say that to demonstrate that it is not so much their censure that has given you reason to shun the title.” He paused long enough to allow that to sink in. “What is the true reason?”
“Because I would not have it forced on me, of course.” One shoulder shrugged again, and she still did not turn to face him. Her shoulders trembled slightly. Despite her strong voice, she was close to cracking, and his heart ached for her.
“Then go home and live out your life as you had planned. You will continue to work in some capacity—I have no doubt of it—and marry some dowdy professor on your thirtieth birthday.”
This made her whirl to face him. Her eyes were wide before she seemed to grasp ahold of herself again. “How do you know that’s my plan?”
He grinned. “I know you whether you want to admit it or not. You want someone quiet who will be too timid or too consumed with his own scholarship to get in your way.”
She bristled. “You know nothing about me.”
“We both know that is not true. I know so much about you now, August.” She looked down quickly, and he took that as a sign that he was right. “I know that you are afraid of a man taking away the small bit of power and autonomy that you have been able to wrest for yourself. I also know that the last person you expected to take that from you was your father.”
She nodded, and though she still looked down, he thought she must be holding back tears, because her whole frame shook with the effort. Gently, he rested his palms on her shoulders. It was all the encouragement she needed to throw herself into his arms. There were no great sobs, but the trembling increased.
“I feel so terribly betrayed.” Her voice was muffledagainst his chest. “It’s as if he has merely amused himself with me all of these years. As if he doesn’t understand or care that I have my own needs.”
Evan squeezed his eyes shut as he held her to hold back the anger he felt for her father. There was no doubt that she was right about the man’s sentiments. Crenshaw was ruthless when it came to business, and it seemed he merely saw his own daughter as an extension of that. She was to further the family’s influence, and if that came at the sacrifice of her own well-being, then so be it. He wanted to punch the man right in his arrogant jaw.
He despised how he had played into this game of adversaries and resolved to proceed fairly. She deserved that. She deserved so much more than that, more than him, but he needed her.
“I would not treat you that way, August.” He whispered into her hair as he tightened his arms, savoring the feel of her curves and warmth against him.
She pulled back but did not release him. Her eyes were bright with tears. “I... I realize that...” She paused and took in a deep breath, her lips trembling with the effort. “I’m sorry I misplaced my anger at my father. It’s not your fault. At any rate, I have come to talk to you. I want to negotiate our marriage.”
“You wrote down your terms?” he asked, referencing the sheet of parchment on the table.
“Yes, but I expect you to add terms of your own.”
“Are you certain this is what you want?”
She shrugged. “I am certain that my trust in my parents is shaken. I think this is the only way for me to get any semblance of what I want.”
“And what is that?”
“A happy marriage, though I had planned for that to be far into the future, but it was a goal, nonetheless. Some autonomy. It is actually all in the terms I have set forth.” She pulled back then, all business again. “If you will?” She indicated the table.
He paused, disturbed by the fact that he was the villain in her story. “We can have a happy marriage, August.”
She gave him a slight nod, as if she did not believe it were true, and then took herself to her chair.
***
It took some time for August to settle herself at the table. He sat across from her as if this were a true negotiation, and she found that she was reluctant to begin. All her years of thinking of marriage in pragmatic terms and as some looming business transaction in the future, and it turned out she was a romantic. Her idea of a happy marriage—before now—had been two people who tolerated each other for companionship and children. Well, she wanted more than that. The problem was that she didn’t know how to definemore, or how to write it into a contract. Also, she was feeling quite vulnerable after nearly giving in to tears with him. In addition, she couldn’t stop thinking about him being naked in the tub. It was an unsettling way to begin a negotiation.
Clearing her throat to give herself some reason for the delay, she picked up the pen. “I have taken the liberty of listing the simple components I believe we both require. Shall I read them?” A glance at his expression showed strain around his mouth and eyes. He nodded, so she continued. “I believe it is desirable to have at least two male children, yes?”
The image of his naked chest rising up out of the water filled her mind, the light dusting of tawny wet hair, the pink of a hard nipple, the strength encased in smooth skin. She would see even more of him to conceive those children. A pleasant flutter low in her belly had her shifting in her chair.
“It is the standard.” His tone was closed off and difficult to read.
“Primogeniture being what it is, I have written that two male children is ideal. If, however, we have reached five children without two male issue, then I would want to renegotiate. If we have one son at that time, then I will likely not be willing to bear more children.” She paused. The wordsonsat between them, heavy and unwieldy withmeaning. One day soon they would have a child together. It did not seem that something so hallowed should be a business transaction, and yet it was. She blinked to bring the words into focus again. “If we have two sons immediately, then I would still like to have a daughter, but again, I believe five children is a good limit. However, and I must stress that all of this is dependent upon my health and ability to—”
“Jesus Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and then stared at her incredulously. “I would never force children upon you. Of course your health comes first. That is not something that we must write down to enforce later.”
