As for Mr. West . . .
She studied him. Such a handsome man—perhaps the handsomest man she’d ever seen—but under his striking looks lurked a terrible darkness. To be married to this man, completely in his power . . .
Eleanor shuddered. Such a man must be cold down to his very marrow.
“Does your silence mean you accept my suit?”
Mistake number one, Mr. West. When a lady is silent, it rarely indicates agreement.
She gave him a tight smile. “I’d like to ask a few questions first, please, with your permission.”
“Of course, my lady. You’ll find I’m a generous husband.”
She gritted her teeth. “Why me?”
He bowed, and gave her a charming smile. “You don’t give yourself due credit with that question, Lady Eleanor. Your beauty alone—”
“Please, Mr. West.” She held out a hand to stop him. “I’m well aware you have no romantic interest in me. You’re not proposing a love match, and you insult me when you pretend otherwise. So, I repeat my question. Why me? Is it my dowry? It’s a generous one, I’ll admit. It’s tempted many gentlemen before you.”
He appeared surprised for a moment, but the look was there and then gone. “I don’t care about your money. Keep your dowry in your name, or use it as pin money. Whatever you like.”
Keep her dowry?What nonsense.Did he think her a half-wit? He’d strip her of every shilling before the champagne had gone flat at the wedding breakfast.
“I see you doubt me, but I assure you I have no interest in your fortune. Perhaps you’ve heard of the ship, theAmelia? She’s mine. I own her, as well as a dozen or so others.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. She’d heard of theAmelia, yes. Thetonconsidered anything to do with trade beneath their notice, but all of London knew of theAmelia. The ship had attained mythical status among the laboring classes because of the enormous fortune she’d made her owner, and even thetoncouldn’t ignore that kind of money.
That explained why he’d been invited to the Foster’s ball. She’d known he was wealthy, but his fortune exceeded even hers. Indeed, it made the fortunes of half the aristocracy in England look like a paltry pile of coins.
If this wasn’t about money, what the devil did he want her for? “Is it my social connections you want, then?”
The Carlisle earldom was an ancient and well-regarded one, and the Sutherlands were a large, tight-knit, handsome family. Their fortune was substantial, and despite the whispers about Charlotte, and Eleanor’s growing list of rejected suitors, they wielded considerable social influence.
But Camden West, with his devastating green eyes and piles of money could wed whomever he liked, and have a grateful wife in the bargain.
He shrugged. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Hope flared in her breast at this admission. “But there are several other young ladies in London with fortune and family equal to mine. Why force me into marriage when you could have one of them for the asking?”
His face closed. “I don’t want them. I want you.”
Eleanor’s jaw clenched. No, he didn’t. He didn’t want her any more than any of the others did, but he wanted something, and she wouldn’t rest until she found out what it was. “But why? Why me?”
“My reasons are my own. Will you accept my suit, or shall I enter a bet about Lady Charlotte into the book at White’s?”
Eleanor looked into his face, tight and hard as a fist, and realized he was deadly serious about this. For his own twisted reasons, he wanted to marryher, and if she refused, he’d ruin Charlotte.
Time. She needed time to come up with a scheme.
“Don’t you think my brothers will find it suspicious if I announce I’m marrying a gentleman I met only last night? My mother will find it so, I assure you, and don’t suppose Charlotte won’t ask questions.”
He gave her an impatient look. “What do you want, then? You wish me to court you?”
“Oh, I think we’ve put aside my wishes at this point, Mr. West, but if you want your nefarious plot to work, a courtship is in order, yes.”
Perhaps he was lying about her dowry, or perhaps he wanted to win the one woman in London who’d evaded all the others. She could believe it of him—a man of obscure origins who’d achieved such success, and amassed such a fortune. Camden West liked towin. He may not have a title, but he was as callous as any aristocrat. Marriage was simply another challenge, another game to him.
A game, with my hand as the prize.
