There was a long pause, during which Courtney could hear the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet as they walked. When Lucien spoke again, his voice was heavy with the weight of responsibility.
“Three thousand pounds, at minimum. Perhaps more, depending on how extensive the repairs to the tenant cottages prove to be. The roof of the main barn needs complete replacement, and the drainage system in the south fields has failed entirely.”
Courtney’s breath caught. Three thousand pounds was an enormous sum—more than many families saw in a lifetime. But her investment fund run by Tiffany was higher than that. Her own dowry was substantial, at fifteen thousand pounds. Her money would be enough.
“And without that investment?” Julian prompted gently.
“The estate will continue to decline,” Lucien said flatly. “The tenant farmers will be unable to pay their rents, more will abandon their holdings, and within a few years, there will be nothing left but empty fields and crumbling buildings. My sisters will have no prospects, and Ava-Marie…” His voice trailed off, the implication clear.
“I see.” Julian’s tone held the careful consideration Courtney knew well. “And you believe marriage would provide the necessary capital?”
The directness of the question made Courtney’s heart hammer against her ribs. She pressed herself deeper into the shadows, knowing she should retreat but unable to tear herself away from a conversation that so directly concerned her future.
“A marriage to a woman of substantial means would certainly help,” Lucien replied carefully. “The question is whether I can find someone willing to take on such a burden.”
“Someone like my sister?”
The words hung in the air between them, and Courtney felt the world tilt beneath her feet. Julian’s question was asked without accusation, but with the protective concern of a brother who needed to understand the motives of any man courting his sister.
Lucien’s response was so long in coming that Courtney began to wonder if he would answer at all. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.
“Your sister deserves better than a man who needs her fortune to save his family from ruin.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Julian pressed, his tone sharpening slightly. “I asked if that’s why you brought her here. If her dowry is the primary attraction.”
Another long pause, during which Courtney could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. She gripped the curtain so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
“I won’t lie to you, Julian,” Lucien said finally, his voice rough with emotion. “When I first considered pursuing Courtney, her dowry was…a significant factor. My family’s situation is desperate, and I have responsibilities I cannot ignore. Ava-Marie’s future, my sisters’ prospects—they all depend on my ability to restore our fortunes.”
The admission hit Courtney like a physical blow. She had known, intellectually, that financial considerations played a role in most marriages of their class. But to hear it stated so baldly, to know that her worth had been calculated in pounds and shillings…
“But,” Lucien continued, his voice growing stronger, “if money were my only concern, there are other heiresses who would be far more practical choices. Lady Pemberton’s daughter has ten thousand pounds, and she’s made it clear she’d welcome my attentions. Miss Hartwell has twenty-five thousand and fewer family complications. And neither woman looks at me as if I’m a ghost.”
“Then why Courtney?” Julian asked quietly.
“Because she’s the only woman I’ve met since returning from Ireland who makes me feel like I might be capable of love again,” Lucien said, the words seeming to be torn from him. “Because when I’m with her, I want something more than mere survival. Because while she can look at me as if I’m someone she knows, she also looks at me and sees my flaws and still wants me.”
Tears sprang to Courtney’s eyes, her anger at his mercenary considerations warring with joy at his confession of deeper feelings.
Lucien’s voice cracked slightly. “Society keeps reminding me I’m a gentleman, not a common farmer. Yet it doesn’t feel honorable to court a lady for her dowry when I don’t know if I can offer her the one thing she wants—my heart.”
“But you’re not preying on her,” Julian said gently. “You’re being honest about your circumstances. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” Lucien’s laugh was bitter. “When I’m courting a woman whose dowry could solve all my problems? When I’m inviting her to my estate, showing her what could be hers, knowing that her attachment to me might cloud her judgment about the financial realities?”
Courtney pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. She could hear the genuine anguish in his voice, the conflict between his feelings for her and his family’s needs.
“You’re assuming she’s naive about money,” Julian pointed out. “Courtney has always been practical about financial matters. She understands the reality of your situation.”
“I hope so.” Then Lucien asked, “Or is she wondering if my feelings are genuine, or merely the result of desperation? Would she question every word of affection, every gesture of tenderness, wondering if it’s motivated by love or by my need for her inheritance?”
The question struck at the heart of Courtney’s own fears. Even now, listening to his conflicted confession, she wondered how much of his growing warmth toward her was genuine and how much was influenced by his financial desperation.
“Just be honest with her,” Julian said with understanding. “Love takes time. Look at Serena and I. It took Serena an age to realize she loved me. Be patient with yourself. Relax and see if you can develop feelings for my sister. She deserves a chance at winning your heart again.”
“I’m afraid my heart is irrevocably broken,” Lucien admitted. “I care for her, Julian. More than I thought possible, after everything I’ve been through. But I can’t separate my feelings from my family’s needs. They’re tangled together in ways I don’t fully understand myself.”
“Courtney is strong. Stronger than you or I.”
