“I would not have brought this conversation to you if she hadn’t.”
“She did not seem very pleased when she left.”
“She agreed… reluctantly.”
“So, what did you promise her?”
Joseph fought the urge to let out a breath of frustration. He wasn’t in the mood for this needling.
Lord Heaton simply stared expectantly at him.
Joseph leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands and met the Earl’s eyes. “Your niece will be in good hands, My Lord. Though I cannot promise that this is anything more than a convenient marriage, nor can I promise that I will love her, I can promise to respect, care, and provide for her for as long as she is mine.”
Lord Heaton nodded then clapped his hands as he launched to his feet. For such an elderly man, he moved rather sprightly, Joseph observed. “That’s all I needed to hear,” the Earl said. “And if Catriona agrees to this, then who am I to say nay? You handle pressure rather well, Your Grace.”
Joseph stood slowly, a little thrown by Lord Heaton’s change in demeanor. “I hadn’t realized that you were pressuring me.”
“You hadn’t?” The Earl scowled. “I’ll have to work on that then. It is about time I learn to perfect my ‘overbearing uncle’ role.”
Joseph didn’t know whether or not he was serious, didn’t know if he should laugh, so he simply moved on. “I would like to take Catriona for a promenade.”
“By all means, Your Grace, go ahead. You’ll quickly learn that no one can control what my niece does.”
Lord Heaton patted Joseph on the shoulder, and it somehow felt like both an apology and a warning. He watched Lord Heaton shake his head, clearly fighting a smile, before he picked up his book and went back into his corner to read, leaving Joseph to his own devices.
A little thrown by the entire conversation, Joseph left the room… and ran right into the butler.
The man, dressed all in black, straightened. “Would you like for me to see you out, Your Grace?”
“I would like to see Miss Wallace.”
The butler’s lips tightened. “I will see if she is available.”
And with that, he was left alone again.
After a couple of minutes, the screaming resumed, sounding much closer this time. Almost as if they were just a few doors away.
Joseph moved without thinking, following the sound. He didn’t know why he did it. He saw no virtue in eavesdropping on conversations—on purpose at least—but his curiosity got the best of him.
“He’s in love!”
“Oh, hush, Maisie, you know good and well that he isn’t.”
He didn’t recognize the first voice, but he was certain that the second person who spoke was his newly betrothed, and she sounded absolutely exasperated.
“If you two must know,” she went on, “our marriage will be one of convenience. We harbor no affectionate feelings for each other.”
“Then why does he want tae see ye?” came a third voice, so thick with the Scottish accent that it took Joseph a moment to decipher what she was saying.
“Perhaps he wants to sort out the details of our arrangement, Ava,” Catriona stated. Joseph could almost picture her sitting with her back ramrod straight and a stern, displeased look on her face. “Or perhaps Uncle Frederic opposed the marriage.”
“Oh please,” came the first voice—Maisie. “You know Uncle would never oppose such a thing. He would give us all of England if that were what we wished.”
“Exactly, which means if you want this marriage, then he will not oppose,” Ava spoke again, this time in complete English. “And you do want this marriage. Who wouldn’t? His Grace is tall, handsome, brooding?—”
“I fail to see why one being brooding would be an admirable quality,” Catriona mumbled.
“It only makes him less approachable,” Maisie explained. “Which makes him more appealing.”
