Page 2 of The Lady in White
“Hatton, you know why I insisted on a plain and unassuming spinster for a bride! I will not damn some innocent young woman to the terrible fate that so many women meet when they have the misfortune to marry into this family!”
The older man’s face flushed and he looked away, unable to meet Douglas’s gaze. “That is superstitious nonsense, sir. You are not like your uncle. Not at all.”
“Not yet,” Douglas replied. “Not yet. But am I like my grandfather? Or my grandfather before him? It isn’t just my uncle, as you well know! Historically speaking, there is only one way this will play out. I will not wager that young woman’s life on it.”
Hatton shook his head. “You haven’t the time to be choosy. You had one year from the date of your uncle’s death to takea wife or forfeit the fortune. With only a few short weeks remaining, finding another prospective bride will not be easy. In fact, it might well be impossible!”
Douglas paced the length of the drawing room. “There are local women—”
“Who know the history of this family and this place, or think they know it,” Hatton pointed out. “They would never consent.”
Douglas cursed under his breath. It was true enough. Half the people in the village wouldn’t even look at him. Those that would did so with blatant hostility. His options were limited. “Damn it all.”
“She is made of much sterner stuff than you imagine, sir. Miss Jones is no milk and water society miss. That young woman has a spine of forged steel and a character that is just as firm,” Mr. Hatton stated. “Take a chance. It’s your only option, really.”
Douglas watched the older man walk away, victorious in his fait accompli. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he turned and made his way back to his library where Miss Jones was no longer simply waiting patiently. Instead, she was holding an ancient bronze dagger, part of his uncle’s extensive collection of antiquities, examining it as though she were the expert curator of a museum rather than a young woman trapped between the serving and upper class.
Her dark auburn hair was pulled back in a severe fashion, though strands of it were fighting her efforts admirably. For a moment, he let himself imagine the texture of it. Like silk, he thought. Like her hairstyle, her drab gray gown was intended to be functional only and not in the least flattering. None of that could disguise her beauty. He fervently prayed that he was not on the cusp of making a terrible mistake.
“Miss Jones, there is a matter of some confusion that must be cleared up prior to our discussing your future here at Rosehaven Manor,” he said.
She looked back at him, startled. “I wasn’t aware I had a future at Rosehaven Manor, sir. You had made that abundantly clear.”
“What I made clear was that you would not be my aunt’s companion. That remains true. But the other position, the more permanent one, upon reflection seems to be the best course of action. I realize you came here expecting to be hired as a companion, but I’d very much like to ask you to remain at Rosehaven... as my wife.”
Chapter Two
Louisa nearly droppedthe ancient artifact she held. “You cannot be serious. Only moments ago, you stated—and rather firmly, I might add—that I was not suitable.”
“I have reconsidered my stance, and my opinion has altered significantly,” he replied.
“I will not be made fun of this way!” Louisa could feel her face flaming with indignation. The whole business reminded her of the cruel teasing she’d endured as a young child. Offers of friendship had been extended simply to lure her into a situation where she could be humiliated before everyone. “It’s one thing to have brought me here at great expense and difficulty; it is quite another to laugh at me in the process.”
“I am not making fun of you. I can assure you, Miss Jones, that the offer is very real,” he said. “My intentions are honorable. If you would permit me to explain?”
Reluctantly, Louisa nodded. She didn’t trust herself to respond verbally.
“My uncle, whom I inherited Rosehaven from, died nearly a year ago. I was still with the army then. Between the difficulties in resigning my commission and the lengthy journey home, the year that he allotted for me to find myself a bride has nearly gone. While you are not the sort of young lady I imagined marrying, you are the only one to whom I can be wed in the amount of time I have left—if I fail, all is forfeit. Not the house,because it is entailed, but the fortune with which to sustain it will go to a cousin, who will then have one year to find a bride, and so on... until it reaches someone down the line of inheritance that is already married or willing to become so.”
Louisa’s eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. She’d never been so insulted in her life. Given that she’d lived a good portion of her young life either in the rookeries or on the street, that was certainly saying something. “So I’m not what you want, but I’ll do?”
He sighed, a sound of frustration and, she could only imagine, disappointment. “I am explaining this all very badly. Had Mr. Hatton been more forthcoming about my reasons, this might have been avoided. I specifically told him to seek a spinster with limited prospects. Someone who would not balk at the sort of arrangement I am offering.”
“I am a spinster with limited prospects,” she insisted.
“On that point I must beg to differ. No woman, Miss Jones, who looks as you do is ever without prospects.”
Louisa blushed furiously under the weight of his regard. He looked at her in a way that she understood, a way that many men had looked at her in her life. But she’d never enjoyed their attentions. With him, it was another matter altogether.
“But what sort of arrangement?”
“We will live here as man and wife, with all that entails, for one year. Long enough to meet the terms of the will. Then we will part and live very separate lives.”
Louisa could not imagine any man making such a choice. “Why? Why would you choose such an arrangement?”
He shrugged. “I dislike disorder, Miss Jones. I prefer my life to be regimented, dull, boring, and entirely uneventful. I seek to avoid anything that will spike my temper or even positive feelings. Emotional upheaval is to be avoided at all cost.”
Lies.At the very minimum, what he’d offered was certainly no better than a half truth. “And you think I would cause youemotional upheaval?”
