Page 43 of Wicked Rivals
“I have been considering marriage to her for a few days now, and after last night, I feel obligated to do so, and not just because I want to control her property. The poor creature needs looking after.”
No matter how strong a woman like Rosalind was, she needed to be protected, cared for. And given her tragic past, she deserved a bit of spoiling, too. Once she stopped being so bloody resistant to his romantic overtures, he could give her the world and anything else she might wish.
Jonathan laughed. “Needs looking after? You make it sound like pity. The woman I met doesn’t seem to need that.”
Charles seemed to agree. “She was doing well enough on her own, even besting you at your own game, until you decided to overreact and try to ruin her.”
Growling under his breath, Ashton shot a glower at his friends. “You’ve never complained of my methods before when it’s a man involved.”
“But she’s not a man,” Jonathan pointed out. “And as far as I know you’ve never taken such extreme measures with your other competitors.”
Ashton realized the truth in Jonathan’s words. “Yes, well, it’s my damned fault I went too far. I’m doing my best to remedy the situation and make amends in what way I can.”
Charles frowned. “You send a woman flowers and jewels when you run afoul of a lady—you don’t marry her. I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to.I’mthe one marrying her, not you.”
“But—”
Jonathan cut in. “Has she even agreed to the marriage?” He brushed his sooty hands on a cloth rag hanging off the back of the wagon.
“Not yet, but she will.”
The distant sound of children laughing had the three of them turning.
Rosalind and Joanna were chasing a dozen or so children about the meadow, those belonging to the Maple and Higgins families. Joanna’s actions did not surprise Ashton; she had an open heart for everyone, and children seemed to gravitate to her. But Rosalind? He could not believe she had joined in.
Her hair was coming loose from its pins, and her rose-colored gown was wrinkled and dirty, yet she didn’t seem to notice. She captured a boy who couldn’t have been more than two and swung him around, causing the lad to squeal in delight. The older children clapped and laughed.
The rosy hue to Rosalind’s cheeks filled him with warmth. She was feeling better it seemed, and that in turn made him happy. It was clear she enjoyed the adventures of business, but she was also a free-thinking woman with ideas of her own, something which made his conversations with her fascinating rather than tedious. He’d spent many a dinner or ball engaging with young ladies who were only too quick to agree with anything he said or laugh at any comment they thought might be a joke.
It would be quite a stimulating experience to be married to Rosalind and share his life with her. They could ride, plan business decisions, even take long walks in a pleasant silence together. And by the looks of it, she enjoyed children. That gave him a strange light feeling deep in his chest. After everything she’d endured, Rosalind deserved some sort of happiness. Money alone would never achieve that, as he well knew.
I could make her happy. If there was one thing Godric, Lucien and Cedric had taught him, it was that the happiness found when one combined a well-matched husband and wife was not a matter of addition—it was multiplication.
Joanna called out, waving to him and his friends. “Ash, come and have some lemonade.”
“Shall we, gentlemen?” Ashton nodded at the area by the road where two blankets were spread out and refreshments were waiting for them.
His mother was in her element, marshalling the children and Joanna while the men worked. They had decided to make a picnic of it while the local men aided in the removal of the debris. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that his mother was watching Rosalind with an intensity that was beginning to concern him.
Regina knew better than to meddle in his business affairs, but he didn’t doubt for one moment she’d meddle in his romantic ones. All the more reason for his and Rosalind’s game of pretend courtship. He needed to remember to do something today in front of his mother to show his interest in Rosalind.
“Ashton, a word if you please.” Regina was seated on a corner of one of the blankets, a glass of lemonade in one hand and a lacy fan in the other.
“What is it, Mother?” He crouched down beside her on the blanket. She folded up her fan and patted a spot beside her, then held out a glass to him. He took the glass and settled on the ground.
“I thought you were jesting when you said you planned to marry that woman, but I’m starting to see something in her I rather like. I simply wished to let you know you have my approval and blessing.”
“I don’t need either of those things,” he replied coldly, but instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
“As you should be. For once, we agree upon something, and you act beastly about it.”
For a moment neither of them spoke, each of them looking pointedly in different directions. The light breeze that drifted across the blanket and ruffled the grass cooled his body and his temper enough that he gave in to the curiosity of what his mother had just admitted.
They rarely agreed on anything, especially in ladies. She was constantly throwing women at his feet, and he would turn up his nose and walk off, having no interest in whatever young miss she was convinced he should marry that week.
“You truly like her?” he asked.
