She bent to pick another flower, then heard, “How about a moonlit ride tonight? Sounds rather romantic, doesn’t it?”
It did indeed, but she had to decline. “It might be with the right man—which you are not.”
“And why not me?” he said indignantly.
She laughed and threw a flower at him. “Don’t pretend you’re wounded. You admitted you’re a rake. If I do end up considering marriage and all of my stipulations are met, I certainly won’t be marrying a rake. So I will wait until I find that perfect chap before I agree to a romantic rendezvous.”
“Then you wouldn’t marry a rake even if you happened to fall in love with one? Not that I’m asking you to consider marriage, mind you, gads no—but what if I were? That’s a rather rigid restriction to impose on yourself, don’t you think?”
“Ha! What if I end up shooting you when you stray and I get hung for it? No, thank you.”
He laughed. “Appreciate the warning, but—what stipulations were you referring to?”
She started to say “None of your business,” but stopped when she realized this was a good opportunity to get another man’s opinion of her conditions for marriage when all she currently had was her father’s biased view. “I intend for my fiancé to sign a contract prior to our marriage, whereby he agrees that as my husband he will not attempt to govern my behavior, will not touch my money, will not sell any businesses I might acquire—”
“You intend to become a shopkeeper?”
He looked so appalled she couldn’t help laughing.
“Goodness, no, but if I find any businesses that look promising and it appears they could use financial assistance, I might send my solicitor round to offer an investment from a potential silent partner. They’d never have to meet me or know the investment comes from a woman. However, I might be more active in a horse-breeding farm I hope to start. I wouldn’t mind breeding Snow again. He produced some very sturdy foals in the last few years before I left Scotland. My father and I both enjoyed working with the horses there.”
“Why not breed racehorses here? Much more lucrative, which is exactly why so many nobles dabble in it.”
“But I’ve no interest in that. And consider how limited the uses are for racehorses. Would you hitch one to your coach, or wagon, or plow? But a strong, sturdy horse from Snow’s line would be useful for everything except racing—not that he’s not fast, too.”
He approached her, but only to give back the daisy she’d tossed at him. “I’m curious. With both of your parents alive, how is it you have so much money to waste? An inheritance from grandparents?”
“No, Father just wanted to make sure I have options to do whatever I want, and not to have to depend on my mother, who is very, very good at saying no.”
“So let me get this straight. Your husband will have to sign off on never touching or promising away your money, but you can still empty his pockets?”
She grinned. “No, I’ll agree to the same terms. There won’t be an endless stream of creditors banging on his door on my account.”
“Sounds rather fair then.”
She looked at him in utter amazement. “You’re joking, right?”
“Why would you think so? I wouldn’t mind a wife who paid the bills.”
She snorted. “I didn’t say I would do that.”
“Afraid you will need to offer some sort of incentive, sweetheart, if you are serious about such a contract. Without giving up something on your end, you’ll never find a man who will sign it.”
She frowned. She’d known it would be very difficult to get a man to agree when most men married for money or property or, at the very least, a lucrative dowry. But she wasn’t going to give a husband carte blanche on running up endless bills, either.
But then she narrowed her eyes on Monty, reminding him, “Don’t nit-pick. I already said I’d be offering myself as a wife who doesn’t require any upkeep. And besides, my mother will no doubt supply a dowry. Getting her daughters well married seems to be the only bloody goal she’s got.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on your mother, who’s been nothing but gracious since we arrived?”
“Not harsh enough anddon’task.”
“I’ll find out eventually,” he predicted. “Might as well fess up.”
“No, and you won’t.”
She moved back to Snow, annoyed by his negative opinion of her stipulations for marriage and his certainty that he’d find out why she hated her mother. He couldn’t really find out about the scandal that loomed over her family, could he? No, not unless she foolishly mentioned it. But his confidence still irked her.
Before she reached Snow, she was suddenly lifted off her feet and Monty was carrying her toward the edge of the lake.
