“Need?” She shook her head and huffed again. “Why? Because of duty? Your friendship with my brother, theduke? Or your friendship with Thorne and my sister?” She forced herself to stiffen her spine and sit taller. “You loved a woman once. Loved her enough to ask her to be your wife. Do you feel for me what you once felt for her?”
“It is not the same.”
“Exactly.” She sagged into the depths of the chair with the conclusion that attempting to remain strong was extraordinarily wearying and not entirely worth the effort. “You do not love me. You are marrying me for every reasonexceptlove. That is why I wish our union to be in name only. I will not be used any more than I already have been.”
“I have never used you.”
“Perhaps not you personally, but you see, dear Matthew, women are pawns in this ridiculous Society in which we live. Our families barter us to align bloodlines, bring forth heirs, and increase fortunes. One would think we are no better than pedigreed hounds or purebred horses. And sometimes, in this unjust game for females, we are taken or given out of pity or duty because a player moved incorrectly across the board and must be penalized for breaking Society’s rules.” She gulped in a breath of air, realizing too late that she had forgotten to breathe during her heartfelt speech. She braced herself for his response.
Once again, he stared at her in open-mouthed amazement.
“Well?” She gripped the arms of the chair, digging her fingernails into the padded upholstery. “Does that clarify things for you, my lord?”
He slowly smiled and shook his head. “You are by far the most exquisite woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Thank God Almighty you are to be my wife.”
She studied him with increasing leeriness. He had never been known to behave as though his mind had left him, but perhaps he had sustained a blow to the head of which she was unaware. “What?”
“You are exquisite.” Admiration shone in his eyes and echoed in his tone. “I shall obtain the special license this afternoon so we may marry before week’s end.”
“Before week’s end?”
“Yes.”
“So you accept the terms I wish to be added to the marriage agreement?” She wasn’t budging on what she had requested and couldn’t imagine his denying her. After all, the Lord Ravenglass she knew and oh so woefully loved would never force himself upon a woman, even if she was his wife.
“I will not lie to you and say that I like your terms, but if you insist on a marriage in name only or no marriage at all, it does not appear I have a choice, since I refuse to bring shame upon you and your family.” But his expression gave her pause, making her wonder what he was plotting. “I already promised to do everything in my power to help you realize your dream of seeing your stories in print, so that point is irrelevant.”
“I see.” She cleared her throat. “Well, then.” Now what the devil would she do? Marry him, of course, as she had no other choice. “I assume we shall remain in London until summer?”
He offered her a sultry grin that threatened to make her squirm. “Is that what you wish, my lady?”
She attempted a nonchalant shrug. “My wishes are not relevant in this matter. Your presence in the House of Lords during the session is.”
“I have completed what is required of me during this session. Would a change of scenery, some time in the country, stir your muse and enable you to write more stories?”
He was up to something. She could smell it as plainly as the disgusting dish of onions, kidneys, and livers that she’d once told Mama would serve better as rat poison than dinner. That statement had required her to apologize to Cook and be sent to bed without her supper, which had achieved her goal of avoiding the meal entirely. But she couldn’t read his expression or the emotions in his eyes, so she erred on the side of caution. “If it pleases you and your schedule, I prefer to stay in London until Blessing is safely delivered of my new little niece or nephew.” She couldn’t help but smile. “I am eager to meet him or her.”
Matthew smiled back, and the rigid set of his broad shoulders appeared to relax. “Of course. I had forgotten about little Aloysius Starpeeper Knightwood’s upcoming arrival.”
Fortuity laughed with a very unladylike snort. “Oh my word, I fear I shall remember that name every time I cradle that precious child in my arms.”
“I wonder what they shall call littleStarpeeperif he is a she?”
“Perhaps Arabella Starpeeper Knightwood?” Fortuity snorted again, then covered her mouth. “Oh dear, forgive me. I am making the rudest of sounds.”
He seemed suddenly sad. “I love your sounds when you laugh and want our future to be a happy one, Fortuity. Truly, I do.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nervously chewed on it. “I cannot fathom what our future holds,” she whispered. “I fear it, Matthew.”
“Our future holds whatever we choose to place within it.”
His words made her shake her head. “Platitudes, my lord. The future is not a sturdy bucket to be trusted. One never knows when the bottom will fall out and all your hopes and dreams will wash away—lost, never to be regained.”
“What are your hopes and dreams, my little wren? Truthfully. Tell me so I might help you not only fulfill them, but protect them.”
She hitched in a quick breath at the depth of his sincerity. “I no longer know, Matthew.” With an apologetic shrug, she offered him a sad smile. “And that is the truth of it. I no longer know.”
He dropped his head and shifted with a heavy sigh. “I understand.”
