Page 13 of Cora
“We’re not sure. An unfortunate rumor started before Christmas. Lord Huntley made a large withdrawal right around the holiday, leaving the bank temporarily short of cash. We haven’t been able to catch up since.”
She filed this information away for a future date. Watching Annalise depart into the dreary afternoon, Cora had a sinking feeling her year was about to get much, much worse.
* * *
Gideon
Gideon readthrough Miss Wilder’s list of demands with a wolfish grin. She thought she could bring him to heel, did she?
She could. So very easily. She had no idea what power she held over him. He wasn’t about to inform her, either.
One line crumpled his face into a scowl.We shall maintain separate homes at all times.
He crossed that out and wrote,chambers.Let her have her own bed and sitting room if she so chose. Many couples did. They weren’t living apart, and that was final.
The thought of having her close enough to listen to through a door at night flushed him with heated yearning. He wanted to learn her habits. Every little thing she did to keep her skin so gorgeously creamy, her dark hair so thick and shiny, her body so generously curved. He wanted to know how she spent her time when no one was watching.
But he hadn’t gone to all this trouble of ruining her brother’s business just to become a hen-pecked husband. She must understand her place. Become an asset to the Wentworth name. He intended to transform her from a forgotten spinster into the lady she’d been born to be.
It was his way of making amends.
Eleven years ago, he’d been twenty-seven years old and mired in the delicate process of taking over for his father. The elder Mr. Wentworth had been strongly advised to step down from his role, but he loved his work more than his own family and resisted the idea of relinquishing control. Social connections meant everything to his father, who had spent decades cultivating the confidence of a young queen, and later, her prince consort.
One did not simply go ruining that much established trust for the sake of an inexplicable obsession with a duke’s illegitimate daughter. Gideon understood that Cora was not an option for him. Not unless he wanted to give up any chance of his father handing him the reins.
No matter if the sight of her caused his heart to pound as though it might explode. The clubby aristocrats with whom he’d attended Eton had decided that Cora and her brother didn’t belong in polite Society. It didn’t matter how well she played pianoforte, or how flawless her manners—they had deemed her an outcast, and there was nothing her father or anyone else could do to salvage her Season.
It was only a matter of when and where she was publicly humiliated, how deeply, and by whom.
If a part of him regretted not standing up for her, Gideon knew he’d done it for the right reasons. He could not afford to alienate the people who entrusted his father with their fortunes.
Finally, after a years-long purgatory, it was time to rectify the wrong he’d done. Hurriedly, he scratched out a response.
I accede to the lady’s requests with the edits above. I have three demands of my own. Firstly, Miss Wilder shall remain faithful to her wedding vows for the entire duration of our marriage.
Gideon was not going to be cuckolded by his wife. He had heard nothing about his bride’s chastity, positive or ill. Finding out anything about Miss Wilder was maddeningly difficult. She eschewed all social circles typical of their class except for keeping company with Lady Honora Caldwell, a marquess’ daughter widely regarded as a pretty but none-too-intelligent gossip who had been long since relegated to the spinster’s shelf.
Odd, that they should have struck up a friendship.
Secondly, Miss Wilder shall comport herself as befits a lady of her station. She shall be gracious, composed, discerning, and generous in public.
A grim smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked forward to her behavior being anything but ladylike—in private.
Thirdly, Miss Wilder’s wedding dress shall be white.
CHAPTERSEVEN
CORA
“Is he insane?”
Cora paced Lysander’s study. Titania had jumped onto his lap, been firmly removed, and was staring forlornly up at him waiting for an opportunity to repeat her mistake. Cora would be amused by her pet’s behavior if she weren’t in disbelief about Gideon Wentworth’s stipulations. She still couldn’t believe she’d said yes to his out-of-the-blue proposal.
“That’s what you’re upset about? The color of your wedding dress?” Lysander tented his fingers and stared at her. “Not the fidelity or the ladylike comportment bits? The dress.”
Under his breath, he muttered, “Women.”
“Those upset me too, but they are of less immediate importance.” They were meaningless. Once they were married, there wasn’t anything Gideon could do to enforce her fidelity or ladylike behavior, aside from, say, consigning her to a madhouse or divorcing her. She wasn’t worried about the first prospect, and she was liable to be the one petitioning for a divorce, not him. With her dowry intact and Lysander’s support—however reluctant—she felt certain enough of her ability to escape a bad marriage to take the risk of marrying Gideon.
