Page 5 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“Surely you have the means to provide for more staff.”
“We do, but my father is more comfortable with the staff we have.”
She smiled tenderly at Marsden. “Then I shall be so as well.”
“Hire as many as you like.”
Locksley’s jaw clenched, and she fought to keep her expression neutral. It seemed he wasn’t only engaged in a battle of wills with her. There was a sharpness to Marsden that belied the rumors claiming he was mad. Already his protectiveness of her reassured her that she’d made the correct decision in answering his advertisement.
“Healthy,” Locksley barked.
This time, she didn’t hold back the smugness. “I have never been ill a day in my life.”
“Even as a child?”
“Even as a child. I was never colicky. Never fevered. I still have all my teeth, so they’re healthy as well. Would you care to count them?” Regretting that last offer when his eyes darkened as though he’d count them by running his tongue over them, she waited with bated breath for his retort, grateful when he merely clucked his tongue and gave his head a small shake.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
She was actually surprised that he would take her word for anything. As he studied her, she waited, dreading the last one, hoping he might spare her—
“Fertile?”
Bastard.Here was the tricky part.
“There was a son. A dear sweet thing. He died before his first year.”
Locksley flinched, his eyes filling with regret as though he wished he hadn’t asked as much as she did. “I’m sorry for your loss. It was not my intent to cause you pain.”
At least he possessed some compassion, even if he was putting her through her paces. She should stop here but she’d come too far to leave any doubt as to her suitability. While she was marrying the marquess, it was evident that his son would play a large part in their lives, and he was the heir apparent. She would be providing the spare. It was imperative that she and Locksley not constantly be at odds.
“The boy was healthy and strong. He died through no fault of his own. The woman who was supposed to see to his care... was negligent.” She turned to Marsden. “I will hire neither a nanny nor a governess to oversee your son’s care. I will tend to him myself. He shall grow to maturity, good and noble, deserving of your family name.”
“I never doubted it, my dear.” He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Finished with your inquest? We have only an hour before the vicar arrives.”
She wondered how he knew that without looking at his watch. The clock on the mantel was obviously broken. It had shown the time as forty-three minutes past eleven when she walked in, continued to reflect the same hour and minutes even though she felt as though an eternity of interminable seconds had ticked by.
“I’d like a few moments alone with Mrs.Gadstone to ensure she understands exactly what it is to which she is agreeing.”
“As I mentioned, she and I have already corresponded. I’ve told her everything.”
“I’m sure you have. But sometimes a different perspective can cause enlightenment.”
“I don’t want you chasing her off.”
His gaze slid over to her. “She doesn’t strike me as someone who is easily chased off.”
Was that respect she heard in his voice? Or a challenge?
Picking up the ring of keys, he unfolded his long, lean body. “Allow me to show you what will become your new home, Mrs.Gadstone. I swear to you that I shall behave as a proper gentleman.”
She didn’t want time alone with him, and it wasn’t because she feared he’d misbehave. She was relatively certain he wouldn’t. Her concern was that he was too handsome by half, too tempting, too masculine. She knew from the gossips that he did not live a life of complete leisure, but was prone to traveling in barbaric, challenging parts of the world. He was broad of shoulder and muscled, but not overly so. There was a sleekness to his form. She could envision him slicing through water, galloping over the moors, hefting an ax to chop wood with equal measure.
She should decline, assure him it wasn’t necessary. Her mind was made up. As though deducing the path of her thoughts, he angled his chin down slightly, his gaze penetrating. A challenge. Drat him!
Slowly she tugged on her gloves. If he offered his arm, she was going to want the extra layer of material separating her skin from his. Rising to her feet, she took a deep fortifying breath. “I would be delighted to have you give me a tour of the place.”
“You don’t have to go with him,” Marsden said.
