Page 15 of Baron in Check
“What about Chanteroy?”
“I’ll take his queen and have mine. I won’t just be nine points ahead, I’ll have the material advantage.”
“You mean you’d have my dowry if I become your”—Hermy gulped—“queen?”
“No, I’d have a strategic advantage.”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
CHAPTER 8
It was the perfect solution. If she married Greg, she couldn’t marry Lord David Chanteroy. Her brother’s morbid conditions that controlled her life after his death would be mute points. The end.
Except that it would be the beginning. If she married Greg, the marriage had to be consummated. What they’d done a few years ago, before the bans were read, didn’t count, it had to be after they’d made their vows. She loved him, so that would be easy. But showing him how she felt, reveling in his touch after longing for him for all this time, was a leap of courage and honesty that made her shudder. It wasn’t in her nature to withdraw and resign. She was used to playing a tough game and to be conquered. Even if she were desperate, she’d rather let the game end in a stalemate than let her king be taken down. She wasn’t going to be the low-hanging fruit regardless of her reputation.
Perhaps she shouldn’t force him into a marriage of convenience. He had, after all, taken on enough responsibility for her. And yet … Greg behaved as if he’d been waiting for her to come back all this time. Her return was almost too easy. Couldit be possible he’d been hoping for her return? Could she be so lucky?
“I sent a message to Fave Pearler’s wife, Rachel, and asked her to send you the seamstress.”
Hermy blushed at Greg’s kindness in ensuring she’d have clothes. He must have noticed she’d arrived empty-handed except for her dog. His generosity bordered on charity, and she was a little embarrassed—no, a lot. But she didn’t have anything else to wear and had no choice but to accept his hospitality.
“Fave’s married?”
Greg nodded and stabbed a piece of Brussel sprout with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. “She’ll also bring the essentials until you can either procure your luggage or buy whatever else you need here. You can take the carriage to Regent Street tomorrow. Ben Klonimus will wait for you and let you buy or borrow any jewels you need.”
“I don’t need any jewels, Greg. And I have enough money. You don’t need to?—
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, swallowed, and then reached for her hand. “That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry. Let me start again.”
“No take backs in chess.”
“Then let me change my strategy. You’re my guest and all I wanted was to make you comfortable.”
She narrowed her gaze.
“When the Ton find out you’re in London, much less here, they will feast on the gossip. When I sent Rachel a message to ask for the essentials a lady would need, she responded with a parcel and a note of warning from Eve.
Hermy dropped her napkin and hid her face behind her hands. “Eve Pearler knows?”
“Not from me, but yes.”
Ah, there was the trouble! Her return wasn’t so easy after all. “They’ll think I’m your resident mistress.”
“Nobody thinks that.”
“You’re right. The Pearlers know me. But the Ton will claim it to be true.”
“It’s not true. And if you’re married and my Baronesse, the rumors can finally be put to rest.”
“There’s another problem.” Hermy paused as the footman served wine. All her favorite dishes were beautifully plated in Greg’s formal dining room: pheasant, quiche, and pear compote. It was uncanny. She eyed Greg curiously as he dug in and chewed with aplomb. Hermy suppressed a giggle. He’d always had an appetite for life, adventure, and good food.
He also used to have an appetite for her.
“What’s the problem?” Greg stabbed a piece of pheasant and sliced a bit off.
“My guardian needs to give permission for a special license.”
