Rose stared at him and yowled in disapproval.
“I know,” he told her, glaring at her. “I know you don't like it, but I don't know what else to do.”
Rose ignored him, turning away.
Alexander sighed. “It's not as if I can see any other way out of it,” he said. “Believe me, I have thought through so many scenarios, I don't even know how to tell you how many there have been. But the fact remains that if I am not married, I am vulnerable.”
Maybe even if he was married, but he didn’t want to think about that.
“You know Lohndrey is coming back,” he said, his voice beginning to sound a little desperate, even to himself. “And if I don't have a wife, he's going to force me to marry his daughter.”
Rose looked unimpressed.
“I just can't. Not to mention the fact that it would then give him access to my estate, with his daughter as its mistress, and I can't be responsible for allowing a sorcerer access to an estate like that. My people deserve better from me. There is too much at stake for me to stand idly by—not when time is running out.”
If his father was to be believed, the sorcerer would be coming back with his daughter on the eve of his thirtieth birthday.
If only he could talk to Jenkins about it…but he hadn't been able to tell a soul.
Every time he tried, his voice would stop working. Over the years, he had tried to slip references to the curse into his daily conversation, but no matter what he said, it never seemed to click—not that he expected it to.
Since magic had been outlawed years ago, no one he spoke to on a daily basis had any reason to suspect that he was under a magical curse. It simply wasn't something that would be in the normal realm of possibilities.
But, as he had learned on that day so many years ago, magic was real. And even though it was outlawed, there were still people practicing it, like the sorcerer who’d had a need for vengeance against his family.
So now he needed a wife, and fast. Because if there was one thing he knew, it was that he could not marry the murderer’s daughter.
He stopped pacing and collapsed into the chair by the fire. Rose, sensing that he had stilled for a moment, followed him, jumped up onto his lap, curled up there, and began to purr. He methodically stroked her back and took a deep breath.
Getting married before his thirtieth birthday wasn’t something he’d planned on doing, but it didn’t seem out of the realm of the ordinary. And while marrying someone just for the sake of being married wasn’t his favorite plan, it seemed like the best option to protect both him and his people.
He could only hope that the sorcerer wouldn’t take it out on them—or his wife.
Hopefully, Beatrice would say yes, because of all the girls he knew in the region, she was the only one he could imagine marrying. None of the nobility were eligible—Lord Taylor's daughters and Lady Liliana Rendon were far too young for him. He could have gone to Riyel to find a bride, but he didn’t want to risk Lohndrey arriving when he wasn’t home.
A local bride was necessary, and Beatrice Montgomery fit everything he needed.
She was surprisingly well-educated, and she wasn't vapid like many of the ladies he’d met in Riyel. She was less afraid of him than the rest of the commoners, and at least they could discuss books if they had nothing else in common.
It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful, too.
But that was entirely inconsequential. She was the most suitable option, and if she turned him down, he would be stuck.
All he could do was hope that he would be persuasive enough to convince her that marrying him was a better option than staying a librarian.
He shot to his feet at the sound of footsteps in the hallway, displacing the cat, who let him know she was displeased by digging her claws into his shin.
But he didn’t pay attention to Rose.
Was she here already?
But when the door opened, it was simply Jenkins, who opened the door and frowned at him. “You’re going to ruin the floor with your pacing, my lord,” he said. “Why don’t you sit?”
Alexander shook his head, shaking the cat off and beginning to pace yet again. “How can I sit?” he asked. “You know what I’m about to ask her.”
“You know I don’t approve,” Jenkins said, a sour look crossing his face.
“I know,” Alexander said.
