Page 20 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“I’m well aware of that, Lia.”
“I am not in any way related to you.”
“Yes, I know.” He was going to crack one of his back molars if he didn’t stop clenching his teeth. “What is your point?”
She reached a hand up to rub the center of her forehead, as if she was developing a headache. He knew the feeling because he was beginning to think someone had dropped an anvil on his head. The whiskey, in retrospect, might have been a mistake.
“I seemed to have lost it, actually,” she said. “Perhaps you might try looking for it.”
“Gladly.” He went to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently nudging her down into her chair. Then he went round the desk to his. “Why don’t we start over? I understand Rebecca’s concerns about the future, but how did she come up with this scheme in the first place? On a practical level alone, it doesn’t make a lot of sense because I’m not exactly flush with funds. Taking on a mistress is not on my list of priorities.”
“I told her that,” she said in a gloomy voice. “But she says if you’re willing to keep supporting us at Bluebell Cottage, there’s no reason you can’t take me on as your mistress. Formalize the relationship, as it were.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Draw up a contract outlining terms.”
“Again, that makes no sense. I’m willing to do that without imposing . . .”
“Conditions?” she finished dryly.
“For lack of a better term, yes.”
“It’s merely a guarantee against what will happen in the future, Jack. A form of protection for us, at least financially,” she said in a tone that suggested he wasn’t very bright.
Not that he could blame her. He was feeling remarkably fuzzy at the moment, and not from the whiskey. “What’s going to happen in the future?”
“You’re going to get married of course,” she said in a flat tone. “If I have a formal contract of, er—”
“Conditions?”
She nodded. “Then you can’t throw us out, willy-nilly. Or at least your wife can’t anyway.”
Jack wanted to thump his head down on the desk. That would probably hurt less than the headache roaring behind his temples. “As I explained a few moments ago, I have no immediate plans to take a wife.”
His mother would have something to say about that as, strictly speaking, it would be the easiest way out of their financial mess. But as far as he was concerned, that was a weapon of last resort. Jack had no desire to rush into a marriage that wasn’t grounded in genuine affection and respect. His parents’ battling had taught him that lesson.
“What a disaster,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry, Jack. What was that?”
“I said, I have no intention of getting married any time soon.”
“Yes, but you will someday,” she said patiently. “And when you do, you can hardly expect the Marchioness of Lendale to tolerate a pair of scandalous females in residence just down the lane.”
He started to protest, but she held up a restraining hand. “It’s ridiculous to assume otherwise and you know it.”
“I would never abandon you or Rebecca,” he said.
“I know you wouldn’t want to, but you might not have much choice.”
It felt as if she’d just jabbed a long, cold needle into his heart. Did she truly have so little faith in him?
“Let’s set that aside for now,” he said. “But let us be clear on two things. The first is that you will remain at Bluebell Cottage for the indefinite future and the second is that I willnotbe taking you as my mistress.”
She nodded. “I assumed as much of course.”
He waved his arms with exasperation. “Then why the hell are we having this conversation in the first place?”
