Page 13 of An Earl Like You
“No, nor will she.” Cross’s expression hardened. “At the first word you breathe to her about this conversation, my offer is irrevocably withdrawn. I’ll call the debts as strictly and as promptly as the law permits, and Hastings—I won’t hesitate to set the bailiffs on you.”
Hugh’s lungs felt squeezed in a vise. “Very well. I won’t speak to her.”Ever again, he hoped. God spare him the sight of another Cross, even one as pleasant as Elizabeth Cross.
“The thing is, my daughter wants to make a love match.” Cross poured himself more brandy. “If you were to court Eliza, whether or not she accepts you would be entirely up to her. She deserves to be adored, pursued, ardently courted, and she’ll not settle for less.”
Hugh laughed harshly. “You want me to play a lovesick swain, but with no guarantee the lady would even have me. What are the odds, Cross? Since this is a gamble, I need to know my chance of success.”
“I’ve no bloody idea,” said Cross, unruffled. “She smiled at you very easily, though, and I know my girl—she could fall for a gent like you.”
Hugh rested his knuckles on the table and let his head hang. He was trapped in a nightmare. If he’d thought his father’s mess couldn’t be any worse, Fate had just served him a mighty comeuppance. “How, may I ask, did you choose me for this scheme?”
“You lost well.” Cross grinned at Hugh’s furious glare. “You seem to be a decent chap. I kept my ears open, and, well, what I heard boded well.”
“You heard I was desperate,” he bit out.
“And just as desperate to hide it.” Cross slapped one hand down on the table, making Hugh look up and meet his gaze. “I’m a fair man, Hastings. If you make a good show of courting Eliza and she turns you down, that’s it—I’ll not ask anything else of you. Pay the debts as you have been, and we’ll have no more reason to speak.”
Hugh closed his eyes. That was small mercy. But as much as he wanted to walk out of this room and let Cross stew in his own plots, he had to think rationally, even ruthlessly. Cross held his debts, but Hugh knew some of them were worthless, personal debts of honor signed by his father that he had no obligation to pay. Even so, Cross could make life unbearable for him if he so chose.
However.
Cross wanted something very dear from him. He wanted Hugh to marry his daughter and presumably give him a noble grandson. He even wanted Hugh to make the girl fall in love with him. Although he’d been putting it off, Hugh knew that marrying an heiress of his own class wouldn’t have required such a thing; marriages were arranged for power and influence all the time. There would not need to be any pretense of love with an aristocratic girl, who would understand exactly what bargain she was making from the beginning.
Slowly Hugh resumed his seat. If Cross could throw down a gauntlet, he felt at liberty to make some demands of his own. “You ask a great deal,” he said evenly. All those evenings of winning and losing without breaking his equable demeanor came to his aid now. “Those are high stakes indeed—the rest of my life, till death shall us part, my name, my title, my heirs, even my affection. Assuming the lady consents, which she may well not.”
There was always that option, he supposed—court the girl but in such a manner that she would gently refuse him when the moment came. But that would be leaving money on the table, something Hugh had learned not to do. “Of course, if I dedicate myself to winning her, society will notice. Other unmarried ladies will presume my affections are engaged, and turn their attention to other gentlemen. If Miss Cross should refuse me, I would find myself still in debt, having lost the better part of a Season I might have spent contracting marriage to another.” He arched a brow as Cross leaned back in his chair, thin-lipped.
“What will you gain, you mean? If she refuses you?”
“Precisely,” said Hugh with a hard edge to his tone. “My time has value, Cross, to say nothing of the effort of courting a woman.”
Cross gave him an appraising look, as if he were rethinking his evaluation of Hugh as an adversary. “What do you want?”
“Ten thousand.” That would be Edith’s dowry. By God, he had to get something out of this.
Cross’s eyes were shrewd. “A high price for a month of your time.”
Hugh shrugged, his card player’s mask in place again. “I’m the seventh Earl of Hastings, the tenth Viscount Dayne and Baron Carlisle. My title was granted by King Henry V. You could have made this offer to any man in London, but you chose me. Yes, I place a high value on my time.”If you’re going to buy an earl for your son-in-law, you’d best be prepared to pay the price for one, he thought savagely.
To his surprise, Cross nodded after a moment. “Done.”
“And I’ll not make a debt payment while I’m courting her,” Hugh pressed. “If you intend to forgive the entire debt in the event I’m successful, there’s little point. Besides...” He smiled thinly. “I need funds to wage a proper courtship.”
Cross’s face grew stony. “That’s quite a lot of flowers, Hastings.”
“Those are my terms.” He picked up his brandy glass at last and raised it. “Are we agreed?”
The other man didn’t move for a moment. Hugh held his pose, his expression calm, waiting.
“Done.” Cross raised his glass, and they drank, Hugh with a sense of disbelief. “One more thing,” Cross said as Hugh pushed back his chair. “You have to take the dog.”
Compared to having a bride foisted on him, a dog was nothing. Hugh jerked his head in agreement.
They walked to the drawing room in silence. Hugh’s nerves still vibrated like plucked strings; what had he done? When they went in and found Miss Cross seated at the pianoforte, he studied her with new eyes. Did she really not know about this mad scheme of her father’s? It would greatly affect how he chose to proceed.
She looked up from her music at their entrance. For a second, alarm flickered in her soft green eyes, but she rose to her feet and made a curtsy. “Have you concluded your business?”
Her voice was pleasing, not shrill or strident. Hugh bowed his head, newly attuned to every little thing about her. “We have, Miss Cross,” he said before the other man could answer. “I hope we’ve not kept you waiting.”
