Page 14 of An Earl Like You
That pretty pink blush crept up her cheeks again. “No, not at all.” She looked at her father. “Would you like me to play for you, Papa?”
“By all means, my dear,” was Cross’s hearty reply.
Hugh avoided meeting the man’s gaze as he took a seat where he could see her face. She spread out her music and sat down, running her fingers over the keys. With one more slightly nervous smile at him, she began to play. She had a lovely singing voice. Most well-bred young ladies could play, but few could sing, and Miss Cross could.
Eliza, he reminded himself. Perhaps his future wife, the mother of his children, the woman who would share his bed and his house. She loved her dog, she sang beautifully, and she liked the theater. Other than that he knew nothing about her. Could he do this?
She wasn’t a typical beauty. Her face was round and her hair was an ordinary shade of light brown. A string of pearls circled her neck, and Hugh was sure her pale green silk gown had cost as much as Edith’s court gown, but it suited her. Some women had no sense of style and bought the latest fashion whether it made them ugly or exquisite. With two sisters and a mother in his house, Hugh knew enough of ladies’ clothing to see that this lady chose well. When she reached to turn the page, he got up and went to stand beside her to turn the next one. Her voice wobbled a bit as he did so, but she played on.
Her skin was lovely. He spied a few freckles on her nose, but her shoulders and bosom were as pale as cream. Her bosom... Hugh reached for the next page and stole a quick glance downward. Plump and tempting, now that he looked at it. Her hands were graceful on the keys, and his mind wandered involuntarily into thoughts of what they would feel like on him. What it would be like to kiss her. What she would be like in bed. Would she be shy? Frightened? He found himself hoping not, even though he hadn’t even decided to court her yet.
Was half a million pounds worth it? Could he convince the girl he was mad with passion for her? Hugh thought he probably could. Could he carry it through into wedding her? Could he face the rest of his life with her, always wondering when Edward Cross would whisper more threats and demands in his ear?
Her hands went still. Hugh stared at the nape of her neck, at the honey-colored wisps curling against her pale skin. Could he chance it? Did he have a choice?
“Bravo,” called Cross from his seat. “What did you think, Hastings?”
He had to clear his throat. “Lovely. You’ve a splendid voice, Miss Cross.”
She twisted to look up at him, her eyes shining with delight. “Thank you, sir.”
Hugh smiled on instinct. That look... She wasn’t a beauty, nor even very pretty. London society would call her plain. But when she gazed at a man that way, with her heart in her eyes, she was not ordinary.
She sang another, and by then Hugh had had enough. He took his leave, blaming the long trip back to London. Miss Cross gave another graceful curtsy and wished him a safe journey. Edward Cross bowed and simply said, “Until later, my lord.”
The cool night air felt like an Arctic chill on his face as he walked down the long gravel path to the dock. Cross’s house, a splendid mansion of pale Portland Stone, sat in a lordly position above the Thames on the western edge of Greenwich. He’d sent his private yacht to fetch Hugh, and the pilot was waiting for him as he reached the river. Hugh settled into the plush seating at the prow of the boat and watched London glide past in the last glow of twilight. It would be dark soon, the time of night he usually set out in pursuit of winning.
If he married Eliza Cross, he wouldn’t have to do that ever again.
Hugh let out his breath. Taking Cross’s word that she had no idea what her father was suggesting, he tried to consider the girl on her own merits. Would he have considered courting her in the absence of her father’s manipulation?
Absolutely not, because he’d never heard of her—never even met her.
Would he have considered her as his bride if he’d met her some innocuous way, at a ball or a Venetian breakfast?
Almost certainly not.
Would he have considered her as his bride if he’d met her innocently, and discovered she came with a vast fortune?
Perhaps.
And there was the rub.
Hugh had accepted the fact that he must marry for duty. Most of his ancestors had, save his father, and the Hastings estates had prospered under their hands. Only Joshua, strong-willed, passionate Joshua, had married simply for love, and he’d nearly been the ruin of three hundred years’ accumulation of wealth and power. Truth be told, Hugh thought it was safer not to marry for love, because he needed the money so much more.
So, was there any reason Eliza Cross shouldn’t be the heiress he courted?
If Cross had offered a straightforward arranged marriage, this would be so much simpler. Hugh had friends who had wed that way; it was a business transaction, arranged by the families and approved by the lawyers. A man only had to find his bride appealing enough to bed her until she bore an heir, and then both were free to live their own lives. Perhaps this would turn out that way.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, he suspected deep down that she would not want that. And it was unfair to trick her into agreeing to it, no matter what her father thought.
Well. That was Cross’s doing, not his. Hugh had bargained a fair compensation. There was no reason not to court the girl for a bit and see how things went. If she saw through him and refused, he’d still have gained Edith’s dowry. But if somehow a spark caught between them, if she fell for him as her father foresaw, if he felt enough affinity to be content with her as his wife...
Hugh had risked longer odds.
Chapter 6
Eliza waited for her father to say something about the Earl of Hastings the next morning, but he seemed to have forgotten all about the man. He was in an exceptionally good mood, teasing her about the toys she’d fetched from the nursery for Willy.
