Blackwood slid the document across his desk.
"Your wife will be entitled to spousal support calculated at current market rates, but she cannot claim any portion of the inheritance, the school, or the estate."
I scanned the legal language, noting the meticulous attention to financial details.
My father had thought of everything—except the possibility that I might actually care about the woman I married.
"This is quite specific about asset protection," I observed.
"Edmund was thorough. He wanted to ensure that your wife understood the arrangement's boundaries from the beginning." Blackwood retrieved the document and returned it to its file. "No gold diggers, in other words."
The crude assessment rankled me, but I understood my father's concern.
The Vale fortune was substantial enough to attract the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of people.
"What happens if she refuses to sign?"
"Then you'll need to find someone else. The prenuptial agreement is non-negotiable."
I considered this while studying the terms I would be asking Sadie to accept.
Marriage to a man she knew nothing about, five years of public scrutiny, legal restrictions on any future financial claims.
In exchange, she would gain financial security and the opportunity to continue teaching at Hawthorne—assuming I could convince the board to offer her a permanent position.
It wasn't a romantic proposal by any definition, but it wasn't exploitation either.
We would both benefit from the arrangement and both be bound by its limitations.
"The board," I said. "How much influence do they have over day-to-day operations during the five-year period?"
"Significant. While you'll have ultimate authority as headmaster, they retain oversight responsibilities. Budget approval, major policy changes, personnel decisions above a certain level—all require board consultation." Blackwood's expression suggested he found these restrictions reasonable. "Your father wanted to ensure institutional continuity regardless of leadership transitions."
"Including my wife's employment status?"
"If you marry a Hawthorne teacher, her position will certainly come under scrutiny. The board will want assurance that hiring decisions are based on merit rather than personal relationships."
Which meant Sadie would need to prove herself professionally while navigating the social complexities of being married to her employer.
Another layer of difficulty in an already complicated situation.
"Assuming I can convince someone to agree to these terms," I said, "what's the timeline for implementation?"
Blackwood consulted his calendar.
"Marriage ceremony must occur before March twenty-fifth—your fortieth birthday. I'd recommend at least two weeks before that date to allow for any last-minute complications. The board will want to attend, naturally, and there should be some media coverage to establish the relationship's public legitimacy."
"Media coverage?"
"Nothing invasive. A brief announcement in the local papers, perhaps a photo at the reception. Enough to create a public record of the union."
Blackwood's tone suggested none of this was out of the ordinary for a normal wedding, but how ridiculous could this be?
"High-profile families can't marry in complete privacy, Harrison. People will expect to see evidence of your new life."
I thought about Sadie's reaction to being thrust into the public eye, even at the limited level Blackwood was describing.
Would she be comfortable with newspaper announcements and board scrutiny?