What a kind, noble man to make such a sacrifice! Mrs. Dove-Lyon had made an excellent choice. A gentleman who would go to such lengths to save his brother should make an exemplary husband. “Your loyalty to your brother is most admirable. It gives me high hopes for our union.”
“High hopes?” His voice went suddenly hoarse.
“Do you need a brandy, Lord Whitcomb?” She stood and went to the decanter on the sideboard. The man was obviously suffering from a dry throat.
“Badly,” he croaked.
She handed him a heavy crystal class filled with the golden liquid that matched the flecks in his eyes.
He drank it down in several gulps.
“Another?” She reached out for his glass, and their fingers brushed as she took it. For a moment, their eyes met, and a flicker of awareness and possibility passed between them. The tension made her tingle down to her toes.
“I’d better not.” He relinquished the glass and averted his gaze.
A pity. For a moment, she thought she was getting somewhere. She returned the glass to its table.
“Lady Clarissa, may I ask what your expectations are regarding this union? I believe we’ll get along better if we are forthright from the start.”
She returned to her seat and grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. I would be delighted to tell you about my expectations. You see…” She paused, leaning forward. “I’m hoping for a love match. In fact, I have my heart set on it.” She had done so ever since her mother explained what a love match was when she was a little girl playing knights and princesses. Now as a young woman, the novels she read only made her want one all the more.
And Lady Ashton’s fate had made her terrified of the alternative.
He dropped his head into his hands.
“Oh, I know it won’t start out that way. We barely know each other. And you haven’t had time to get used to the idea of matrimony, let alone me. But I asked the widow to find me a man I could love with all my heart and who could love me in return. Papa paid a great deal of money for that stipulation. And now Mrs. Dove-Lyon has brought meyou. I’m hopeful that with time, we will come to adore each other.”
Lord Whitcomb’s shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh, and then he looked up, his face drawn and careworn. “I’m afraid the widow made a mistake. I wish you every happiness, but Ican’t give you what you seek. You want a man with a heart, and I have none. You should ask Mrs. Dove-Lyon for another match. I’ll find some other means to pay my brother’s debts.”
Oh dear.She’d done it now. How could she salvage this? All her doubts came crowding in, making her wonder if what she wanted was even possible. Lady Ashton’s fate loomed before her. What if he sent her off after three months and left her to live alone and unloved?
But she was certain he had a heart. He had to! She simply had to find it. And from the way he was saving his brother, she guessed it was a warm and caring one too, no matter what he said. “I trust Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s judgment, and I don’t believe she erred. It’s very kind of you to be concerned about me, but I have faith that this will turn out for the best. Please give us a chance.”
He stared at her, wide-eyed, shaking his head. “Your optimism knows no bounds, does it?”
She chuckled. “Papa is always saying the same thing. As a little girl, I rescued a rabbit that had gotten its leg mangled in a trap. I was convinced it could make it through with the right care. Papa tutted and said my optimism was going to be my downfall.”
“And what happened to the rabbit?” His sardonic expression didn’t escape her, but she decided to ignore it.
“Mr. Bunnykins lived for three more years. With a limp, of course. Of course, he couldn’t go back to the wild. But I kept him in a hutch and fed him every day. He lived like rabbit royalty. I loved him, and he loved me. He was the best pet I ever had. That’s not the ending you were expecting, was it?”
He let out a gust of air. “No, I suppose not.”
“I’m lucky, you see. Things have a way of turning out for the best for me. And I just know it’s going to be the same with us.” It had to, because the alternative was unthinkable.
He cleared his throat. “I amnotMr. Bunnykins. And I cannot give you what you want. As I warned you, I have no heart to give. You would be far better off with someone else.”
He was going to take a great deal of convincing. For a moment, her confidence wavered. What if she tied herself to this man, and he was speaking the truth?
No, fortune wouldn’t fail her like that, and she’d already seen cracks in his armor. Beneath all those frowns, she was certain there was an ardent and affectionate heart, despite his efforts to convince her otherwise. She could bring him around with time. She just had to have a little faith.
At that moment, the door at the back of the office cracked wider, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon entered with a rustle of black silk. “How are you two doing in here? Is everything settled?”
“Yes,” Clarissa said at the same time Lord Whitcomb said, “No.”
The widow’s head turned sharply toward Lord Whitcomb. “You, sir, have no say in this if you want to save your brother’s sorry hide. It is entirely up to the lady.” She turned slowly to face Clarissa. “And what do you think, my lady? Is he the one, or would you like to be presented with more candidates? Lord Whitcomb was at the top of my list for you, but if you would prefer to keep searching, I can oblige...for a price, of course.”
Clarissa took a long look at the man across from her, gazing at her imploringly. It was clear what he wanted, but she strongly suspected it wasn’t what he needed. It occurred to her in a flash of realization that someone in his past must have hurt him badly for him to be so fearful of love. Just like a romance hero. She wanted to lead him to the light, show him that the heart could be healed. It would take time and patience. She was determined to give him both.
