“You leave what they think about Dora to me. I’m asking you to behave as if you are my wife in public and around the servants.”
“Well, of course I will.” She knew she sounded cross and why not? She didn’t understand why he was harping on this issue.
“Excellent,” he replied as if she had given all he could ask. “Now, for my second demand.”
“Another one?” Why did she sense he was toying with her?
“You have two stipulations,” he reminded her. “It is only fair I have two.”
“I don’t think you should have any,” she shot back.
“But you have already given me one, so—” He opened his arms as if showing he played no tricks.
She scrunched her nose in doubt. “Very well, what is your second condition?”
“That you start dressing better. I say, Clarissa, you have a countess’s manners but your dowdy wardrobe needs great improvement. I’ll pay,” he added before she could protest.
Still, she was rather offended.
“My tastes are modest,” she had to offer.
“Your tastes are boring. You should wear color and show off some style. You don’t want Dora to be ashamed of you.”
That stung. “Dora doesn’t care what I wear.”
“She will. Someday.”
“However, you seem to wish to see me more stylish now.”
He grinned at her. “I would. Or else I would never have negotiated for such a stipulation,” he said with an unrepentant shrug. “Besides, Clarissa, I’ve seen you wear better.”
That was true. Of course, those dresses had grown old and frayed at the hems. They’d also become a touch tight, especially in the bustline. If he was talking about what she wore to village dances, well, those gowns had been borrowed.
The two serviceable dresses she currently possessed had been a gift from the matrons. Clarissa had selected them because they made her feel like a proper lady’s hired companion, except she didn’t enjoy wearing them.
Her resistance to his request began to change. She wouldn’t mind pretty things. “I will amend my wardrobe.”
“Well, then—” He stuck out his hand. “Do we have a marriage bargain?”
She glanced at his gloveless hand and thenback up to his face. He acted serious. There was no telltale glint in his eye that he was mocking her.
And Clarissa knew the time had come for her to make a decision. Anyone else would have leaped for this opportunity. She would be a countess. The thought was fantastical to her.
She would never worry about money or her security again. She’d be safe. She would also be able to guide and protect Dora, a sweet baby who didn’t deserve to be abandoned any more than Clarissa had. She was already more than half in love with the child. She’d always enjoyed babies but Dora was special.
Unfortunately, she had Lord Marsden for a father.
“Yes, we have a marriage bargain.” Resolutely, Clarissa placed her bare hand in his.
His fingers clasped around hers. The warmth of his body flowed from his arm spreading throughout her, enveloping her.
“Thank you,” he said fiercely. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
All she could do was nod. She was overwhelmed by not only the bigness of him—Mars was a very tall man and she was petite—but also his solidness. He was all muscle. Strong, capable, protective... and now she was entering the circle of his protection.
“My mother left an hour ago—” he continued, but Clarissa interrupted him in surprise, glad for a new subject.
“An hour ago? She didn’t come by to see Dora.”
