Page 80 of The Ladies Least Likely
Lydia’s eyelid twitched, a sure sign of annoyance. “You must realize we couldn’t hold our heads up to the gossip,” she said. “You’d never be taken seriously in Lords or anywhere else. She’d be cut everywhere, and you would too. You might have to leave the country. Is that what you want?”
Of course not. What he wanted was to live in bliss with the woman he loved, and the rest of the world could go hang.
He tightened his arm, feeling Gwen stir in protest. A mistress would be the easier choice. She would be accepted among the other women of the demimonde, the woman like her who earned their keep with their favors, and he would be applauded for capturing a rare beauty. Men of his station were expected to keep a ladybird. They were also expected to marry among their station and breed children to take up the reins of power once they had passed.
Children. With Gwen. He’d never before wanted to bring a child into this cruel world, had in fact taken pains in all his liaisons to avoid that outcome. But a child of his and Gwen’s, or several—his lungs clenched at the thought, empty of air.
“Your wife must be bred to the position, Rhydian,” Lydia said. “You can’t make a Welsh farm girl a viscountess. You’ll shame us all.”
“Is that your main objection, Lydia?” Pen said. “Then allow me to present to you Miss Gwenllian Carew, also calling herself Gwenllian ap Ewyas.” He sensed the gasp of surprise that went around the room as he said Gwen’s name. She rose and delivered a stiff but proper curtsey.
“Gwen, my stepmother Lydia, the Dowager Viscountess Penrydd, and Prunella, the current Viscountess Penrydd, my brother’s bride. There will be two dowagers once you wed me, which I judge will cause no end of confusion about town, but I could not care less.”
“Penrydd,” Lydia said, a set to her mouth that promised she would give no quarter. “It’s shocking enough what these people have done to your property, your family’s property. But to unite yourself in marriage to?—”
“A knight’s daughter,” Pen said, forcing his voice to remain level. “Badge presented for service to the Crown in supplying copper from his mines to line the hulls of ships for the Royal Navy. Who’s to say but that our ammunition at Tenerife might have stayed dry if Bowen’s ship had been so outfitted. Now, it’s not a title of a hundred years’ standing, I grant you, but if Sir David Carew has saved one life with his copper, that’s more than I can lay claim to doing in all my years of service.”
An utter silence fell over the room. Shards of colored light drifted through the stained glass set high in the wall. Gwen’s face caught the colors as she stared at him.
“That’s not enough,” Lydia said. “The money?—”
“Yes, my brother’s debts. Poor Prunella. Our respectable Edwin turned up rather more unsteady than we thought him, didn’t he? I’ll have you know, Lydia, that I’ve been wise enough to let myself be leg-shackled by an heiress. How much did they tell us the mines yield a year, Ross?”
Ross tore his eyes away from Mathry, who was lounging in her usual spot in the window, her curved form limned with light. “Ahem. Ah. The copper and lead-silver together, on the combined properties, produce about thirty thousand in any given year, depending on the price for ore. Gross income before salaries and supplies, that is. Sir.”
Lydia paled beneath the lead paint of her makeup.
“Thousands, you say?” Prunella looked as if she’d just been handed a pretty new hat.
Gwen scowled. “How do you know this? My father’s solicitor only replied to me this morning.”
“Ross made inquiries,” Pen said. “Now don’t go in a taking. I’ll ask you to repair the Penrydd fortunes, yes, but beyond that I’ll let you have a say in how the income is used.”
A joyful light broke over Gwen’s face. “I can buy St. Sefin’s.”
“Which will do you no good, since it will be mine again at our marriage. I told you this,” Pen said. “Besides, I have other plans for the place. I intend to sell St. Sefin’s to Mrs. Van der Welle for the price of—what do you think fair, Ross? One pound?”
Ross, overcome by a choking fit, could not respond. His reply would have been drowned out anyway by the uproar in the room. Pen was aware only of Gwen beside him. She trembled like a dancing flame and her expression of admiration as she looked down at him made him wish he could do something to win that look from her every day.
Dovey lifted her chin with eloquent pride. “I can pay you a hundred pounds, milord. We have savings.”
“Ten pounds it is,” Pen said to her. “I’m not convinced it’s the best move, mind, since what’s yours will go to Evans, do you ever accept him. But we could draw up papers that upon your marriage put the property in trust for Cerys, or some such. I’m sure Ross can find a legal recourse, and if he can’t, Barlow will.”
“Dovey?” Gwen blinked. “Marry Evans?”
“There are ways to keep it in her name, sir,” Evans said in a mild voice belied by the furious red blush of his ears. “And make it her jointure, of course, if something happens to me, with provision that the property go to Cerys in the event that?—”
“I have not consented to marriage,” Dovey said, her nose pointed toward the ceiling. “Mr. Evans has not made me an offer, proper or otherwise.”
“Dovey?” Gwen cried, staring at her friend. “And Evans?”
“My word, Gwen, how did you miss that? And here I thought you so clever.” Pen tightened his arm about her. She was so strong, so fierce, but she betrayed herself in how she unconsciously leaned toward him. Her body knew she belonged with him, even if her solid good sense still protested.
“Dovey and Evans,” Gwen repeated. “But they’re always chopsing. He’s forever scolding her, and she says he can’t do anything right, and?—”
“Gwenllian ap Ewyas, my ridiculous daft garden warbler. That man would give his every remaining limb for her. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s a particular tendre for him, haven’t you, Mrs. Van der Welle? She needs only be convinced another marriage won’t break her heart again, or leave her destitute, like last time. And if she has property with some income, that’s one problem solved.”
“We haven’t any income,” Gwen said.
