He chuckled. “I like the sound of your mother.”
“Yes, she was lovely,” she said mistily.
“When did she die?”
“When I was a little girl. An accident with a horse. Papa married her because she was a princess, but I think they fell in love afterward. I always like to think so, anyway.”
He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his gaze on her.
“Papa always wanted to replace them with real diamonds, but I did not want him to, for then it would not be Mama’s tiara anymore.”
She took a deep breath and returned to the subject at hand. “But I must sell some of these jewels and I need your help to do so, as I don’t know my way around London yet.”
“Why do you need money?” he demanded.
She stared at him. “What a stupid question! Because I do. I’m going shopping tomorrow, for a start.”
“You won’t need money for that. Have them send their accounts to me at this address. And for any trinkets, here.” He started to peel banknotes off.
“No, stop it,” she told him. “That’s not fair. Why should you be out of pocket for my clothes?”
He said through gritted teeth. “Because you are to become my wife and a man provides for his wife.”
“I will be a paper wife only,” she began, then said hastily as a speculative look suddenly lit his eyes, “and if you try to demonstrate that I am flesh and blood, Gabriel, I will smack you! I am being serious here and you promised me this afternoon that you would not ride roughshod over my opinions.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I’m listening.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I am merely discussing options with you,” he explained.
“Well, listen to this: I owe you enough as it is, without owing you the very clothes on my back. I have my pride, just as you do.”
“I see,” he said quietly.
“And as well as clothes for myself and Tibby and Nicky, I will need money to cover the expense of the wedding reception.”
He folded his arms again. “That does not concern you.”
“It does,” she argued, frustrated. “If this was a normal wedding, my family would pay for the wedding and the reception. It’s traditional: the bride’s family pays.”
“Yes, but you are a widow without close family. Besides, my aunt will have a fit if anyone—you or I—tried to reimburse her. It is her pleasure, her gift to us.” The stubborn line to his jaw was back again.
“There is nous.”
“Isn’t there?” he said. “It looks very much like there is to me. It is the whole point of this marriage.”
She frowned, wondering if he really did mean that. And why he kept referring to it as a marriage, when really, it was just a wedding. “But—”
“No, you are quite right, at the moment we are two separate entities,” he said angrily. “Thisis us.” And he kissed her. Thoroughly. And very possessively.
She emerged from the embrace flustered but determined not to show it. She could handle it—him.
“Stop it—you will not distract me from my purpose. If you won’t help me sell my jewels, I’ll find someone who will.”
He glared at her for a long moment. “You’re an infuriatingly stubborn woman,” he said at last. “Very well, hand the blasted things over. It will take some time to effect the sale, so in the meantime have all your accounts sent to me at this address—and yes, I’ll keep a separate account for you if you insist—and take this for pin money.”
She tucked the banknotes he passed her into her reticule and gave him the jewels. The pearls, too. They would fetch a very good price, she knew. A woman making a paper marriage for political reasons with a man she had known less than two weeks could not afford to be sentimental.
